#‘loving another person seems like tying a noose around one’s own neck’ AND HE WAS RIGHT AND YET. AND YET.

[rhymaes]

The Untamed (2019) // Anne Sexton

[hydra-collector]

Suck Me Out

Ships: Intrulogical, some Intruloceit

Characters: Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Janus Sanders (minor character), Roman Sanders (minor character), Virgil Sanders (minor character), Patton Sanders (minor character)

TW: Self-harm, choking, autoerotic asphyxation (not really though), depression, self-deprecation, I don’t want to spoil but if any of those previous tags bother you even a little, I suggest you don’t read this (I’ll tag the spoiler, though), cursing

Words: 1,716

Summary: Remus wouldn't expect them to understand. He's intrusive thoughts, god of kinks. Of course they wouldn't see it. But once in a while he wished they would.

"I'm serious, Logan," Remus gestured to his tightly adorned garment, "necktie."

Logan rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. "When you're done with your kinks, join us for movie night. We finally get to watch a documentary."

Remus shrugged and pulled tighter the pretty blue tie that had previously been on Logan's neck. His face was purple from the cutoff of blood and his hand struggled to keep grip. He began to tilt backwards a little towards the wall before Logan took his arm and pried away the tie.

"Remus, stop. You're gonna fall."

"But it feels so good."

Logan only sighed in response and reclaimed the tie around his own neck, leading Remus to the living room. 

Roman was the first to speak out of the welcoming mumbles.

"Remus, save your arousal for night time. We're trying to watch a fun movie about space," though he seemed skeptical of the amount he could enjoy a documentary.

Patton scolded the two of them for mentioning such subjects, but swiftly put on the movie anyway. 

Virgil and Roman became surprisingly enamored in the science of black holes and their possible opposite, white holes. Logan excitedly paused it at multiple points to fawn over or elaborate on some of the research like a child. Remus, however, sat leaning against Logan, staring mindlessly at the television.

What if I was in a black hole? 

Remus tried to shake the thought off, but it was persistent. 

If black holes lead to white ones that spit you out into another universe, could my world here end? 

Maybe he'd be happy in this other universe. Something in his brain would change and the sadness would be gone. Or maybe it'd be traumatic. 

"...Remus!"

"Huh?"

"I paused the movie to see if you were alright. You did not seem to notice when I did."

"Yeah, I'm, I'm fine. Think I'll just…" mumbling off something about the bathroom. 

The minute he left he felt lonely. And stupid. Lonely and stupid. He shouldn't have let them see that. Now Logan's gonna be concerned because there's obviously something wrong. He stared intently at the mirror. 

Ugly. They hate me. 

What if he said that to them? He'd be guilt-tripping them and he'd be a terrible person. Even thinking it , he's a terrible person. Die.

His arms flashed to his neck, grabbing as tight as possible. His balance began failing… 

No, he can't do that. Then he worries them and they don't need that. How does he even know death is better than this?

Thomas doesn’t need him. Thomas doesn’t want him. His mental health would be better if he never even existed. Thomas doesn’t deserve what he does.

I want to fix that.

He can't help but cry. Muffled shrieks that must sound like moans from the living room. Sharp breaths that must sound like enjoyment slip out. Hits to his arms and legs that only add to the many bruises sound disgusting to them.

But none of it is. 

Sure, they have good reason to believe that Remus has some kinks, he is indeed mostly intrusive thoughts, which he’d admit is related to kinks, but he half-wished they wouldn't assume. He didn't really want them to know, but it killed him to be constantly alone about it. 

Alone.

Forever alone.

Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil. They’re the “light sides.” Of course he’s happy Janus got accepted, but… he doesn’t get that. He probably never will.

Fuck it. 

He tiptoed his way to his bedroom, ceiling adorned with a hook in preparation. On a day easier than this, he’d drilled it for today. Under his bed sat a box holding the rope, paper, and pen he’d carefully hidden. He thanked his previous self.

Tying the noose, his ears kept open for visitors wondering where he was. Before he hung himself at last, he wrote.

I’m sorry. 

Patton, Virgil, I love you. Janus, I love you. My brother, I love you. And Logan. I love you. Thank you for caring. 

But it wasn’t a kink.

He questioned if he should refer to Roman as his brother, and decided at last to do it. He didn’t want to alienate him as he died. He’d never get to tell him again.

I’m glad this is the end. I wasn’t needed.

He kicked the chair from under him.

Thomas will be happier without me.

As the rope constricted, relief and fear washed over him.

They all will.

“Remus!”

--

His throat hurt.

“Remus?”

He then noticed he could see a face. A beautiful face.

Logan?

“L-”

As soon as he tried to speak, his throat stopped him. Logan took his cheek in comfort.

“It’s okay, Remus. We found you. You’re going to be okay.”

He looked around to find he was sitting on his soft bed, pillows piled behind his head. The rope, and the hook were both gone. A drill, that had presumably been used to remove the hook, sat on the far dresser.

“We found your note.” It was Roman this time.

“I’m so sorry we ever thought it was a kink. We should have talked to you.” Logan’s eyes were gazing prettily at Remus’s.

“-”

He was reminded he couldn’t speak, so pointed to the paper on which his note was, and made a writing motion. Logan soon obliged to his wishes, though getting a different paper. Remus began to write. Again.

You had good reason to think it was.

He smiled a bit, and would have laughed, when Roman and Logan read this. They didn’t seem as amused as he was, and only looked worried. He flailed his arms to get the paper back.

Y’all don’t understand my sense of humor.

Where’s everyone else?

Logan beckoned to the door and Janus, Virgil, and Patton came in. Seeing Janus’s scales, his beautiful face… he never did get to ask him out.

Janus.

Logan brought him over while Remus wrote his message.

Probably not the best time, but I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you that both me and Logan have a crush on you.

“What?”

His human side grew red. Someone, who you like, who’s just attempted suicide telling you they want to date you is a very odd feeling.

“Remus, what did you-” Logan attempted to look at his message to Janus, and immediately shut up when he saw it.

Can I talk to Virgil now?

Virgil had been snickering in his corner, seemingly able to read the paper. He stopped as soon as he was called, putting on a more serious face.

Sorry Janus pushed you down the stairs.

“Wh- you’re not going to say some sad thing about me leaving the dark sides and you getting depressed? Just apologizing for Janus?”

I’m not going to blame it on you. It was Janus who pushed you down the stairs. And my idea.

“I’d call you an asshole but you’ve just attempted suicide and this is your daily personality.”

Remus made peace signs before requesting to talk to Patton, who unsurprisingly apologized over and over for treating Remus like a piece of shit. He did need to apologize, but Remus knew he was making an effort. Even if it wasn’t going very well.

Hey Ro-Ro, my bro-bro.

Roman also apologized. 

I mean we were literally split for you to be the “good” brother and me to be the “bad” one. If anything that made it the worst.

Roman had nothing to do but give him a hug.

Logan,

could I have a kiss?

Logan smiled and kissed Remus lightly on the cheek. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a good idea to kiss someone on the lips if they’d been frothing at the mouth. 

That was tiny!

He would have gone to cuddle and kiss Remus more if no one else had been there. For now, Remus hugged everyone individually until they dispersed. 

Thankfully, Logan was put on watch duty, to make sure Remus really was feeling better, as he seemed, and wouldn’t try anything.

Logan pressed kisses to Remus’s forehead, cheeks, and nose. His warmth bled onto Remus, who desperately needed it. Logan’s eyes were beautiful. His arms wrapped around him. He felt safe. Remus snuggled into the affection, nearly happy he’d attempted suicide and been found. But-

He picked up the pen and paper again, reluctant to let go.

Logan, what if I did that because I wanted attention?

“Hey, Remus, no. You did it because everyone’s been against you. It’s made you feel like you don’t matter. But you do. We need you. Even if you did because of attention, it was because you needed attention. It’s okay if you wanted attention. If you were willing to go to… those lengths just to get attention, you needed it.”

Logan

thank y-

Remus’s eyes filled with bittersweet tears before he managed to finish writing, and he clutched Logan tight. He let go again to tell him more.

I felt so horrible. I still feel so horrible. I’m sorry I acted so happy when I wasn’t. I know you care but I shouldn’t be here. All I do is hurt Thomas. Now I’ll hurt him even more because I failed. He’s going to feel like shit. I’d pull out my own organs and put them in my horrible person pile if I could. It would have been okay if I’d succeeded. I’m so sorry if you would’ve missed me, but I can’t keep hurting Thomas. If I would’ve died he would have been fine, but I failed so-

Remus sobbed into Logan’s arms again, laying as close as possible, feeling his warmth, his body as much as possible. His boyfriend rubbed his hand over his back, arms, through his hair. He was starting to cry a little as well. He felt so horrible that he hadn’t helped how Remus felt.

“Remus, if a part of Thomas died, he’d have a piece of himself missing. It may not seem like Thomas wants or needs you, but you’re a part of him nonetheless.”

What do I do?

“Remus,” Logan turned his boyfriend’s face gently to look him in the eyes, “all you need to do is stay alive.”

What if I can’t?

“I'll be with you. As long as you need. You stay alive as long as you can.”

[trade-baby-blues]

Sweet Savannah Sunshine

Pairing: James Flint x Thomas Hamilton 

Word Count: 1593

Warnings: angst, mentions of past homophobia, more angst, one (1) single swear word

Flint couldn’t remember ever being this nervous. Not upon reaching Skeleton Island nor upon tying himself to the helm during a tempest. On both occasions, the worst outcome had been death, but which was the worst outcome here? That he would end up in Savannah to work and die alone as James Flint? Or that Thomas would be waiting for him and he would have to remember how to be James McGraw? 

Thomas. Flint would have to get used to saying it aloud again. He’d treated the name as a sacrament for so long it felt heavy on his tongue. It struck him, then, that there was only one person left alive, aside from Flint himself, who knew Thomas’s name and story. Even that felt like too much, as if the more his name was spoken the more pieces of Thomas would disappear from Flint’s memory. 

Would he even recognize him anymore? It had been a decade since he’d last seen Thomas. Perhaps he’d finally grown his hair out after all his griping about wigs. James could imagine it, soft as it had been, tumbling over Thomas’s shoulders in golden waves. His fingers twitched as he imagined running his hands through it, imagined it brushing his own shoulders as Thomas leaned to kiss him. 

Would he taste the same? Would he feel the same? Or would his body be marked by ropes of muscle that came from years of labor? Would his skin be pale as it was in the London fog, or would it be tanned from the Georgia sun? Would he recognize Thomas? Would Thomas recognize him? 

A bolt of panic shot through Flint’s spine. Ten years he’d spent memorizing Thomas’s face, sketching it on any available surface. He’d committed himself to that face, but had Thomas done the same? Or had his miserable shit of a father told him that James had left without looking back? Another jolt of panic. James’ heart roared louder than the ocean around him. What if Thomas hated him for leaving? What if he rejected him now, after all he’d done to get where he was? Because of it? 

James could hardly breathe as he shut himself in the captain’s cabin, locking the door and sliding down it as he focused on the bite of the wood in his back instead of his own gasping lungs. Suddenly, he was a boy again, clinging to his mother’s skirts as a British officer explained that there was an accident at sea and his father would not be returning. It was the first chapter in a story defined by tragedy. 

How he could feel so keenly the loss of something he did not yet have, James didn’t know. And yet the mere thought of Thomas dismissing him made his blood turn to ice. He buried the thought in the same corner of his mind that James kept the rest of his darkness, focusing instead on the wood beneath his palms and the gentle sway of the ship on the water. It reminded him that he was still James Flint, and James Flint didn’t have time to lose himself in emotion. The only context in which James Flint knew fear was the look in his enemies’ eyes before he slew them. 

Flint dragged himself off the floor, resigning himself to solemn silence for the remainder of the journey. Silver would interpret his silence as acceptance rather than what it actually was: a feeble attempt by a desperate man to hang onto the last shreds of his composure.

The nervousness Flint had felt on the ship paled in comparison to the fear that claimed him the second his boots hit sand at port. He had half a mind to turn tail and run back onto the ship, to demand Silver take him back to the Maroon camp with the tone of voice he knew even Silver couldn’t deny. Yet, the other half of his mind urged him forward. Urged him onward. Even now, on the heels of peace, Flint couldn’t stop tearing himself apart at the seams. Perhaps Miranda had been right all those years ago. Maybe he did need someone to fight, be it Rogers or Silver or himself. 

A hand guided him forward. Gunn’s hand. James had hardly taken the time to get to know him, assuming that one or the other of them would have died at the camp or the ensuing battle or any of the other myriad of ways Woodes Rogers would have seen them all killed. He thought idly about getting to know him now, asking Gunn his favorite color or if his mother read to him as a child, if only to quiet his own mind, but James’ tongue was too leaden to croak out the words. He hardly even felt the bite of irons around his wrist, too distracted he was by the ghost of irons around his ankles, weighing down every step that brought him closer to the end of his own story. 

James hadn’t even noticed Gunn handing him off - had only noticed a difference when the sun was on his face again and a rougher hand grabbed his arm to push him forward. The man smelled of sweat and tobacco - two familiar scents. But he also smelled of grass and flowers, a scent both foreign and comforting. It was so different than the sea. 

James took another deep breath as he was walked towards a field. The smell of freshly tilled earth greeted him, bringing his mind around to thoughts of Odysseus and his shovel. He wondered how much farther inland he would have to walk to forget about the sea. 

As it turned out, James had only to walk another foot before everything else fell away from him - his name, his past, his story - because there before him stood a form more familiar to him than his own. The same cropped blond hair he could feel between his fingers, the lithe neck that had surrendered under his lips and which now stretched down into an expanse of bare skin pulled taut over ropes of muscles that contracted and relaxed as Thomas worked the earth the same way he would have worked James’ body - worshipping it and reveling in it at once. 

He stopped, then, as if he could feel James’ eyes on him. As he turned, every second of the last ten years fell away. He was an officer again, standing in the dining room having just thrown Alfred Hamilton out of his own house and Thomas - Christ, Thomas looked as eager now as he had in that moment, so full of hope and longing as he took the first step forward and showed James for the first time what love was meant to feel like. 

He basked in that gaze now, drinking Thomas in without reservation. He looked every bit as regal as he had in London, only with an added sheen of sweat covering his skin. He looked like cut marble, as if James was looking upon David himself, though even the towering masterpiece seemed little more than a child’s sand sculpture in comparison to the soft planes of Thomas’s body. 

James was well aware what he must look like: a man starved, hungry for the touch of Thomas’s skin against his. He could feel the tenuous grip on his own composure slipping as every step brought him closer until a familiar voice crept into his mind and froze him in place. 

Hennessy’s voice, as clear as the day it had been when it forced James out of the Navy, out of his home, his life. James could hear Hennessy’s voice now as the words tightened around his neck like a noose. It is too profane. It is too loathsome. Silver had assured James that the plantation owners were aware of the true circumstances in which Thomas had come here, that they didn’t much care who he bedded, but James was unwilling to take that chance again, not when Thomas was so close - so close that the thought of losing him again might actually kill James on the spot. 

Thomas still had not moved, studying James from afar. There was a look in his eye that James couldn’t place from this distance. He watched Thomas touch the skin where his wedding band had been. It was a nervous tick. Something he’d done only when he was worried, and James felt the realization like a gunshot: Thomas was just as scared as he was. 

No sooner had the realization hit him than James was walking, running, flying forward. He was Icarus and Thomas was the sun. If the wax melted and he plummeted to the ground, there was nowhere James would rather land than Thomas’s arms, and land there he did as their chests crashed together like waves on the hull of the Walrus. Thomas’s arms pulled him close as James dragged his calloused hands against the bare skin of Thomas’s back. 

And then Thomas’s lips were against his and James could think of nothing else but the slide of their bodies against each other. Nothing else held meaning but the taste of Thomas and the glow of his smile as he stared at James with enough love to chase away the chill of the sea that had wormed its way in James’ very bones. Heaven and hell were nothing more than words to James as he let go of the oars tying him to the sea and picked up the shovel to bury Flint for good. 

A/N: Uuuuuuh sorry I’ve been MIA on this blog for like...months and then come back with a Black Sails fic of all things but I binged the entire show and it has consumed my life but I do promise to get back to regularly scheduled fics eventually lmao. 

[ruwithmeguys]

Just re-read your "Indecent Proposal" fanfic. Still AMAZING. I still hate Laurel. I was reminded of something from Sherlock. If you theorize before the data/evidence is in, then that compromises your deduction of the evidence, b/c you force-fit the evidence to fit your theories. Everything Laurel's doing! She theorized Felicity was bad, now she 'sees' that the evidence supports her theory b/c she wants it to, b/c she theorized before all the evidence came together.

Do you realise how lovely you are sending me this ask?

I’m horrible at responding to asks because my job makes itdifficult to want to come back online after the fact I tend to miss some ofthese and it pains me. But it’s also one of the best ways to either motivate meor cheer me up. See, us fanfic authors: we’re kind of needy and we don’trealise we are until we start posting. I suppose another part of why we post atall, past the absolute joy I feel knowing I’ve made someone’s day a tiny bitbrighter, is for validation. To connect or touch a group of people and havethem believe the same. So saying thank you is never really enough but I’ll say itanyway.

Right! LL.

I don’t hate her character. I pity it. And the actress didn’thelp this assessment. Both character and actress were god awful incarnations ofll.

I got this SL for IP from S2 – addicted to drugs and lookingto make/get SOMETHING right – after her failed vigilante manhunt, her guiltover tommy, loosing any chance with Oliver and so on and so forth – ll comes tothe conclusion that Blood is a bad guy. AND SHE’S RIGHT!

But.

The way she goes about however, was horrifc. She DECIDED shewas right, pushed everyone away and was determined to prove it. She carried outher own investigation and the results were catastrophic: she got herself fired,used the Arrow and lost the respect she’d gained form the city. Plus, everyone foundout she was an addict and had stolen her father’s pills to pop. Methodology isa huge deal. Because of her method of choice, it didn’t matter that she wasright in the end: she wasn’t a vigilante. She couldn’t just decide that the lawshould bend around her. She BROKE laws, lost her best friend (didn’t seem tocare at all about that either, reinforcing a certain theory involving narcissism)),lost Oliver’s blind affection – he rescinds his ‘blind spot’ in regards to her –and tied a professional noose around her neck. She did it to herself becauseshe didn’t think before she acted, was impatient and dead set on proving shewas right. She made such a hash of it that the people around her only see abroken junkie by the end of it. Luckily for her, she gets a second chance downthe line.

But this way of acting goes with her S3/4 arcs – becoming avigilante with just a couple of months of boxing behind her and she flipping dies in S4 because of this choice. She bringsback Sara and doesn’t care at all about the ethics of it, of bringing back abody without a soul of subjecting a city to her murdering soulless sister, oftying her up in a basement: if LL wants it, she goes right ahead and gets itand genuinely doesn’t care about the people around her who are affected.

THAT’S were I based this part of indecent proposal on.

The only time she ever cared about the opinion of others,was after Sara’s return. Sara. It’s always been Sara’s opinion that affected herthe most. Her father’s opinion made her rebel or set out to prove him wrong andit wasn’t Oliver’s good opinion she wanted: it was his love. Little did sheever realise that trust, respect and admiration are qualities that areintimately connected with romantic love. Another theory proven.

LL, like Oliver, never understood what being in love trulymeant, which means she’s never truly been in love.

What made her passing sad was that she thought she did. Shethought a LOT about herself actually. She thought she knew herself, knewOliver, knew Tommy.

She didn’t know a thing. Admitting that would have been truewisdom. Now imagine what might have happened in indecent proposal if ll haddecided not to blindly trust a something that sounded like an opening for herlife to change for the better and to instead, investigate and make up her ownmind?

But when you believe something strong enough, your brain naturallytwists the truth to bend to the will of your greed. It’s actually a defensivemechanism because it makes you feel better. It’s analogous to creating your OWNlogic, which isn’t logic at all. It’s just another bias, subjective opinion.

The only way she’d ever learned (the one time she did on theshow) was when there were consequences to her actions that affected HER, notjust other people (which brings back the question of the ideal of what a virtuous person is versus genuine empathy). So Ineed this to pack some punch, you know: when eventually finish the thing.

As far as I’m aware, there are only a couple of things that wouldmake ll understand not only the wrong what she does next but also where she went wrong. Loosing respecthas something to do with it. Loosing love DOESN’T, unless it’s forever. As in,no chance in hell will this ever happen. Loosing the POSSIBILITY… That wouldscare the shit out of her.

[sassysweetstories]

Empress Part 8

Summary: You’re apart of the 100. You’re very bad-ass and don’t take shit from no-one. However, the longer you’re on earth, the more complicated things become.

Ship: Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader, Dimitri!Grounder x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, crying, angst, swearing, minor smut, fighting,mentions of abuse, blood, gore, etc.

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to owners. i realize not all of this is side by side accurate to the show, bare with me. i hope you enjoy!

Tagged: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317 @bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist @beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19@violence-and-velvet @lachicadelamanzana

First P.O.V

Trevor glances up at me with a haunting smirk. His eyes are so dark,  they don’t look like the irises of the boy I’ve grown to know. They don’t look the same, nor are they far from his own. Murphy’s been whispering in his ear. That little snake. “Trevor, hun. You don’t need to do this.” I say in a warm tone. He’s weak around me which unsettles me more. I can control him but I”m not sure about Murphy. The older boy smirks at me before tutting. “Don’t move, (Y/n). our beef isn’t with you. Just sit there and look pretty and we want have a problem.” I sigh at my constant need to disobey. “You know I can’t. Look, Blake’s an ass. No doubt about it. And it kills me to say it but we need him. Murphy, I don’t blame you for how you were treated but the choices you make who you are. They are manacles. Weights for you to bare alone. Don’t let this be one of them.” 

I can tell my words have an effect on him that only lasts a moment before he smirks up at me with a sly smile. “You’d be a good diplomat. Almost had me with those pretty eyes-” he says, waving his gun around absentmindedly. It makes my stomach flip with nerves. “You move, princess, and I won’t hesitate.” Trevor’s jaw drops. Threatening me was not apart of their plan. “MURPHY!” Trevor gawks, disgusted by his betrayal. “Go grab the rope and tie her up. Fofill some fantasies while you’re at it.” The young boys cheek turn a heavy pink with embarrassment while Bellamy and I recoil in disgust. I don’t even realize how close Murphy is to me until I feel him wrap his hand around my throat, knocking me down to my knees with a painful blow. “Stop!” Bellamy shouts with a voice  of urgency. 

I try not to flinch under Murphy's burning grip that only seems to tighten. “Have I hit a nerve, Blake?” Murphy accuses, wild eyes shifting between him and I. Why would I mean anything to him? I can’t help but wonder. Before I can even find the answer, the older boy yanks my head by my hair, jamming the front of the revolver into the side of my throat. “Get on the stool or I blow her brains out.” Though Trevor and Bellamy want to fight back, they are no match for a gun. He digs the head of the weapon further in and I can’t help but choke, an innate reaction. Bellamy grabs the noose before glancing at me with a knowing look. Help is coming. His eyes seem to scream. “So what do plan on doing after I’m dead?” He ties the noose, idling by. He’s stalling. Murphy shrugs, absentmindedly, admiring the sight of Blake about to hang himself. 

“Once you’re dead, things will fall into place. Maybe we finally put a leash on your little princess.” I know I should stay quiet but I can’t help myself. “I’m no one’s property bitch.” He chuckles darkly, barely focusing on me and my feeble attempt to hurt his ego. His eyes never seem to leave Bellamy as he finishes tying the noose. “Get on the chair.” Murphy commands eyes wild with vengeance. My gaze never leaves the Blake boy. There’s a shift in him, a change that I can’t name until I look into his brown irises: fear. I know it all too well because that’s how I’ve looked my whole life. It’s strange to see yourself in someone else. He steps up slowly, hands shaking as he does so. And before I even know it Murphy kicks the chair out from under him. Without thinking I yelp in fear, clutching my mouth at the sad sight that laid before me. 

I almost forgot the lack of grip around my neck and knock Murphy down to the ground with a loud thud. “Fucking, bitch!” He screams back at me before knocking my knees to floor with his thighs. I’d find the interaction attractive if I actually thought Murphy was appealing but he’s not. He wraps his hands around my throat again, squeezing I flinch and recoil, forgetting all my training. The action reminds me too much of him. When I try to push him off, his grip tightens and my vision blurs. All  of a sudden, I grasp and heave, taking in as much air as my body can allow. Through blurry eyes I can see Trevor push Murphy down. He holds him for a minute but he’s not big or strong enough to keep him centered. I try to get up but I’ve yet to even catch my breath before Murphy gets up and pulls the trigger Trevor’s head falls to the ground with an abrupt and haunting thud. 

I tear my gaze away from the blood that’s already starting to stain the tiles. Though it’s a horrible thought, I can’t let another face haunt my dreams. Another loud crack of a whip irrupts from above and I can’t help but sigh relief at the sigh of Bellamy, noose free. Octavia holds him close while Jasper aids me up. “Bellamy...” I mutter softly but am soon wrapped in his arms. His embrace is warm and soothing, almost enveloping me in a layer of heat. “I thought I lost you..” Bellamy’s voice rumbles deep within his chest, cracking at the ends. He pulls away far too quickly than I’d like before examining my body.  He takes my face in his large calloused hands. They fit nicely, more than I’d like to admit. “Are you hurt?” Where else did he get you-” He traces the outline of where Murphy’s hands were. “That son of a bitch.. When I get my hands on him-” His eyes grow dark with blood lust and I can’t help but catch his palms in my own, pulling him out of his stupor. 

“Bellamy.. I’m okay.” His chocolate brown eyes shoot up to meet mine, surprised by something as simple as a name change. “Don’t get use to it, Blake.” I pull his arms away from me and notice Clarke and Finn enter, looking broken, bloody and disheveled. Bellamy is hot on my tail, his gaze never really leaving me for long despite Clarke’s immediate attention. “We need to leave now.” she says, looking worn out and tired, but alert nonetheless. “The grounders are coming.” Bellamy puffs out his chest in detest, reeking of toxic masculinity. “No, we should stay and fight.” I can’t help but scoff. “There’s no way in hell we’d survive. They’e proven to us a thousand times, if not more, how cruel and tactile they can be! They put fucking poison in Murphy to leve the playing field for war. We’ve seen their loyalty, their drive. They will rip us apart. We need to leave the camp now.” 

“NO!” Bellamy barks back and I try not to flinch at the sound. “We can’t just run away from everything we’ve worked so hard for! This is our home!! We need to flight for it!!” I can’t help but groan, down right tired and irritable. I grab his shoulders and jerk him into direction off the youngest 100 members. “Will you let them die?! Do you honestly think they can fight?! Bellamy-” The name change and softer tone take him by surprise. “We can’t have a home if there’s nobody to help make one.” I push Clarke and Finn to start packing while I head out for food and scout the perimeter. I don’t let anyone accompany me, can’t have more causalities or blood on my hands no matter how dark that sounds. I trace out a trail leading up norther into the cooler lands that seem to cascade along the forest. 

As I draw nearer into what feels like the mountain tops, a loud ruckus irrupts from over the treeline. Resting my stuff against the tree, I crouch low to the ground and cover my face with my cloak. I watch as some of Lincoln's clan fights another. The biggest distinction is that they sport a bright blue bandanna around their right arms, just below their armpits. Dimitri’s clan. Hope and fear play an equally strong roll with my emotions. I hope to see his face once more for what could be my last. But I also fear that it could be him fighting amongst the sea of warriors. All of a sudden, one of the grounders knocks a blue man to the side before more men surround him, foam practically forming at their mouths. His golden blonde hair, now bare for the world too see. Dimitri. My heart drops and I don’t think, just react. 

I shoot two arrows into the nearest grounders thighs before jumping up to fight two more, taking them down with ease. When I turn around, Dimitri’s sword is right up to my throat. I rip off the top of my cloak so nobody can see my face, just my irises, the gaze he told me he loves. His muscles shift his eyes flicker. We go back to back, two powerful beings paving a a road to something much much stronger. Dimitri and I move as one, an undeniably perfect flow. We are stronger than any current. I dodge the attacks as best I can, even pushing Dimitri out of the way when a knife scrapes up against my thigh. I hiss in pain but never stop moving. When the rest of the grounders are dead, Dimitri and his sun blue army flock around us, observing me suspiciously. All except for three of them whom I assume are Ruker, Sloane and Dante. The two wave at me while Ruker nods in respect or approval. 

Some of them gawk at me altogether. Surprised to see a living sky person. Ruker nods at me again befoore leading the fifteen of them back to their camp. Dimitri hesitates. But once they’re at a save distance, he takes my hands in his, closing the distance. “Thank you for protecting, princessa. As well as my people.” I can’t help but smile. “It was nothing-” I shrug nonchalantly, shifting off my hurt thigh. “I hope to see you again. I’m moving my people away from the clans. So I’m not sure when I’ll see you again.” I admire his features while I can before pulling away. “Goodbye, Dimitri.” he tugs my arm ever so slightly. “Wait-” Before I can distance myself, make the pain hurt less, he tugs down my handkerchief and smashes his lips onto mine. I nearly fall back at the passion he provides. 

It takes me a minute to realize where it’s coming from. He’s afraid he won’t see me again. I pull him in close, touch his chest, waist, shoulders, everything I can get my hands on to remember him. I try to feel all of him before it’s too late. When he pulls away, we both catch our breathe’s and I can’t help but shiver under the warm air that seems to fall down my face and shoulders. Our noses graze and I don’t want to let go of such an intimate moment. It might be my last. “I love you.” I mutter against his lips, honestly. I can already see myself dying a thousand different ways and every one of them I regret not telling Dimitri how I really feel towards him. He needs to know just in case. His eyes widen at my confirmation. 

But what takes me by surprise is how certain he is. “I love you, too, princessa.” He pulls me in for one more passionate kiss before I pry myself from his warm embrace and return back to my people. It may be the last time I feel his touch. The thought alone makes me shudder with fear. Just as I’m starting to breathe again, death seems to loom over my shoulder. Just as I cross over the last treeline, a large body pushes me up against the tree with a loud thud. “Time to start praying princess because the only person on your side right now is God.” Bellamy glares down at me. 

(I hope you guys liked it! PLEASE FUCKING COMMENT!) 

[oblivion-time]

A Queen Meant To Reign 4/7

After Soul’s father’s death, the crown will fall upon his head. Maka, the Queen of Scotland has to marry the next King of France in order to assure her kingdom’s safety from their rivalling country. Their marriage has been planned since their infancy, all that is left is to tie the knot. Something that’s more difficult than they thought. A Reign AU.

You can read the story on ff.net and AO3

Picking up the Pieces

Soul's heart speeded in his chest, banging against his ribcage as if it would burst through. He cared for Maka a lot and he wanted to marry her really badly, but if her theory was correct, he didn't know what to feel. He cared for his mother too. She had cared for him diligently when he was a child. His mother took her job as parent very seriously and took on raising him herself. She breastfed him when he was a baby. She taught him how to walk and she was always there. He was close to his mother, but he adored Maka. There was nothing more he wanted than to marry her.

If Maka's theory was correct, he would lose one of them.

He inhaled loudly before he rounded the corner. He stormed toward his mother's chamber and her two personal guards secured her chamber like usual. He came to a stop in front of them.

"I am here to see my mother. It's urgent," he stated.

The guard opened up the door and announced Soul's arrival. He entered and found his mother behind her desk with a variety of herbs and flowers on the desk. Some might think she was perfecting a perfume, but to him, he knew she was working on a poison. Not a good sign.

"Soul, what I pleasant surprise." She rose from behind her desk and greeted her son with a tight embrace and a kiss on his cheeks. "I was expecting you to be busy entertaining our guests. Weren't you supposed to have an archery tournament today?"

"There is a matter I have to discuss with you first," he informed and pulled away from his mother's warm hug which had always seemed to take away all of his troubles.

"Of course, my child." She held his shoulders and guided him to her couch and took a seat. "So, have you met any pleasant women? Lady Anya Hepburn seemed very agreeable and she certainly was after your favour."

Ah. Lady Anya. The bold lady who did not need an introduction, but went up to him and introduced herself and asked for a dance, which he had respectfully declined in favour of searching for the one person he wanted to see. As hard as he had tried to search for her within the ball room, he could not find her with all the women wanting to converse with him and he had sent his brother to try and find her.

"I am an engaged man, mother."

Her eyes softened and she cupped his face. "You are sweet. If only your father could've such a kind heart."

He grabbed her hand and removed it. "What I don't understand is why all these women are here?"

Kathrine raised her eyebrow at her son quizzically. "The upcoming masquerade ball, of course. The ladies are coming from important noble families and it would be very rude of us not to invite them."

"Mother…" Soul breathed out and he ran his hand through his hair. "We never have this many female guests who just happens to be of age to wed."

"What are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is: I care about Maka and I really do want to marry her, but Maka is worried about a pattern starting to form."

"What pattern?" Kathrine sternly asked.

"The fact father won't set a wedding date for us. The fact an assassin managed to get that close to her in the middle of court or how you and father swept it under the rug like it was nothing without questioning the assassin. Oh, and how another attempt on her life took place only two days ago and the servant received the same treatment."

"She suspects we had anything to do with it?" she sneered.

"She's afraid," Soul stated. "She thinks she does not only have the Englishmen she has to look out for, but you too. She fears if she stays here, she will end up dead."

"Is she leaving?" Kathrine's voice rose as if she had gained new hope, as if she was a dying woman in a desert who had just laid their eyes on water. Her voice carried so much hope, far more hope than her message should've held.

Soul had opened his mouth to respond, when the realization struck him. His eyes widened and he repelled from her on the couch.

"It was you."

"I— you are silly—"

"You need to stop this." Soul growled and raised an accusatory finger at her. "You won't lay a hand on her."

"Is the pull really that strong?" Kathrine pleaded as she reached toward her son who backed away from her touch.

"Yes!" Soul exclaimed. "I love her."

The words left his lips so easily. Writing it down in his letters in Maka's absence had been easy. He ardently cared for her on such a deep level, but he could never admit it to her face. Every time he looked into her emerald eyes sparkling brighter than the finest jewellery, his being was consumed by flames. When he admired her from afar and she would suddenly turn around and their eyes would lock, his knees grew weak and his heart tugged to be closer to her; forever be in her favour and holding the one title he wanted more than king, Maka's husband.

He loved her. He genuinely loved her and now when he had said it once, he wanted to say it to her. Those three sweet words that describe his feelings perfectly had always lived within him.

From the moment Maka arrived at French court for the first time when they were six years. He loved her when he hung out with Black*Star and threw apples on her to try and gain her attention which only pushed her away to his surprise and dismay. Black*Star had promised it would work and it hadn't. He loved her when he desperately tried to make amends with her by treating her with compassion and warmth his brother had advised him to do if he wanted her friendship. He loved her when they found themselves under the night sky searching for fireflies. He loved her when he prefer watching her diligently study while he neglected his own. His love for her was overflowing when it was time for her to hide in the convent and he kissed her. His love for the Queen of Scots was flared when he laid his eyes on her again after so many years apart.

All this time he had loved her dearly and he loved her with such a passion he forsake all others for her. There was only one woman he had in mind to wed, and if his mother would drive her away, he would never marry anyone. Maka was the only one and if he couldn't be with her, he would rule alone.

"I love her," he whispered again, enjoying the sound and the tingling sensation in his fingers. "I want to marry her and I don't understand why you and father would try to get rid of her like this."

Kathrine opened her mouth before she closed it. "She is not a good match for you."

"It was you who arranged our engagement!" Soul sneered. "She was good enough then and she is good enough now. Stop your lies or I swear I will reject the crown and the family and run away with Maka."

"You're bluffing."

"Am I? I can tell Maka and we can be on the first boat to Scotland this afternoon."

"If you did you would rattle the line of succession and you would be nothing more than a mere peasant."

"Then I will rattle the line of succession and put France in jeopardy," Soul growled. "If I have to give up my birth right and family to be with her, I will do it within a heartbeat. I don't care if I can only be her royal servant or her secret lover. As long as I am around her, it is enough for me."

"You wouldn't do that to your family— to France."

"Maka is my family. My allegiance is with her and has been ever since we met. I will be with her and we're going to leave France so we can be together and—"

"No." Kathrine grabbed his wrist. "Don't do this."

"Give me a reason not to."

Kathrine's lips tightened. "… the only reason we arranged the marriage between you and Maka is because your father wants power and an alliance against England, but the situation in Scotland has gotten far worse than we thought. If you would marry Maka, her country would weight France down and drain our resources."

"Then we help them! We are alliances. They would've helped us if the tables were turned."

"Help them?" Kathrine snorted. "The Englishmen are by their boarders and Scotland needs men, men we don't have to spare. We're already spreading our forces too thin on all battlefronts. Scotland has only one front to protect which they have to protect for themselves."

"That's heartless," Soul barked. "We're talking about Maka's country!"

"And you are too attached to Maka to see reason." Kathrine went up to him and grabbed his shoulders. "You need to let go of her. When it's time for you to wear the crown Scotland will be your demise."

"No it won't." Soul ripped her hands off him. "I love Maka and I'm going to marry her. You will stop with your attempts on her life and support our union because I know the fondness you held for her when she was young is still there within you."

"My fondness for her disappeared once Scotland was tying a noose around your neck."

"You don't know that." His hand was drawn to the handle of his sword, letting his hand rest on the golden handle he never thought he would use to threaten his mother. "And if I find out there is another attempt on her well-being of any kind, I will blame you for it and Maka and I will leave France." He turned on his heel and started heading toward the door.

"I am doing all of this for you, why won't you see it?" she exclaimed and Soul stopped right at the door, looking over his shoulder.

"All I'm seeing is you're threatening the love of my life." He exited her room.

…

Maka grabbed an arrow from the stand and loaded her bow. She raised her weapon and she aimed toward the target. Her hand released the arrow and it went soaring, hitting the target right in the middle.

She had not lost her touch.

It was a skill she needed now when threats on her life seemed to become a new normal. When the third attempt on her life would come, she would be ready. If she had to leave the country, she was sure the third attempt would be just around the corner. Then she would be ready and this time, she would not let the queen or king hide behind a puppet they used to kill her. If they wanted her dead, the alliance was off, and she would drag it out to the light so everybody could see. Only in the light of the news, other potential alliances would come forward with offers of matrimony.

She loaded the bow and aimed at the target, letting the arrow fly and it hit the middle of the target once again.

"Your archery is impeccable," Wes called as he approached her on the lonely archery field. "I wished a fraction of the French forces had the same talent as you."

"A royal needs a set of skills to be able to protect herself," she easily answered and loaded her bow, aiming at the target, imagining Queen Kathrine standing in front of the target. Her treachery heart was her arrow aimed at. "Who wears the crown will always have enemies, and those enemies do not care about your gender." She released the arrow and it hit Queen Kathrine straight in her heart.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," Wes apologized. "I simply mean your skills are admirable. Are you going to participate in the archery contest this afternoon? I would surely enjoy seeing you wipe the floor with Giriko and Soul."

A smile spread on her face and she afforded a short laugh. "Is it not considered treason if you cheer for anybody else than your brother?"

He chuckled as he grabbed a bow for himself and an arrow. "Not when I cheer for his fiancé. You are after all the future Queen of France."

She went silent.

As the situation was now, she would be no Queen of France, not even have any ties to France at all other than her deep affection for the heritor of the French crown.

"With all the ladies present at court with dowries that could rival my own, do you think they really want me to wed Soul?" Maka asked as she grabbed another arrow, her fingers caressing the feathers as she loaded the arrow.

"Of course they do. Scotland and France have had an alliance for years and we all know my father wants power and land more than anything. No money could make up for the fact he could get his hands on Scotland with one simple marriage." Wes released his arrow and the arrow hit close to bull's eye, but not quite. "Besides, once he witnesses your excellent archery, he will have to set the date and take you out for a day of hunting."

Maka blew a raspberry. "But if your father was of that nature, how come he hasn't set the date?"

"Preparations for the wedding or diplomacy." Wes shrugged his shoulders as he grabbed another arrow. "Who knows what policies or plots they have in their heads. That's why I don't want a title or get involved with it. I don't know how you or my family manages it."

"It's not an easy task." Maka lowered her bow and she faced him. "Believe me, I wished my parents had a son before me so I could've been free to wed the man I love without it being a political move. I would've wanted that freedom more than anything." she sighed heavily and she put away her bow. "But I have been dealt these cards and I will have to do the best as I can for Scotland because I am her only ruler. If I can't take care of her, the Scottish monarchy will fall and be replaced with a government. She needs me and I will do everything I can in order to protect her from any threat."

"When you put it like that, it sounds like a true blessing."

"A blessing indeed, it is." She respectfully lowered her head. "And if you excuse me, I will have to find my ladies."

"But aren't you interested in what Soul is doing?"

She halted in her step, turning toward Wes. "I'm listening."

"He was quite stressed this morning, he told me he wanted me to remain by your side and assure your safety while he would have a conversation with his mother."

Her breath was lost and her eyes widened at the news.

She wasn't sure his words held any weight. It had been a very painful moment for both of them and she feared his words were only spoken to lick their wounds. He… he meant it and he went to his mother to confront her about her theory. It would determine if she could stay in France and wed him.

A sense of relief washed over her. "I need to see him."

"I will show you to him."

She followed him. Soul had informed Wes of a place where they could meet, away from the probing eyes of the ladies threatening her position at French court. She wasn't surprised when Wes took her to the tower where her old quarters were, where they first kissed. Worry rooted in her core when she saw Soul through the cracked open door standing by the window with concern in his eyes.

"Soul…" she whispered as she pushed the door open. His head whipped toward her and hurt ached her heart when she saw tears brimming in his eyes.

"… you were right," he whispered and his gaze lowered to his hands fiddling the hem of his sleeve.

She closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and held onto her for dear life. "I take no pride in this."

"I still cannot believe she would do that," he murmured. "She knows how I feel about you and trying to— I thought she cared more about me than that."

"I believe she cares about you, it's me she does not approve."

"But I do," he sobbed.

She ran her hand through his hair and petted his neck as she held him in her arms. Comfortingly she planted a kiss on his temple.

"I told her if she valued me as a son, she would no longer threat your security." He pulled away from her and he blinked away his tears. "You are safe. You don't have to leave anymore."

"But what about your father? We need a date," she asked cautiously as she held his hands in hers.

"I have requested a private audience with my mother and father after the archery tournament. Together we will ask them for our wedding date. My mother will no longer stand in our way."

A smile spread on her face and she cupped his cheek. "Thank you. For all you have done."

"We are engaged. I'm your partner and I will always have your side."

She rose on her feet and planted a sweet kiss.

"Now if you're finished, you might want to fill me in on what's going on." Wes asked as he leaned against the door frame.

…

Out of all people Soul had to fall in love with, it had to be his fiancée. Out of all the people who would cause her son's death, it had to be Maka Albarn the Queen of Scotland. Kathrine wished for her son's happiness, there was nothing more she wanted than to see her son happily married to a woman he loves, but his life weighted heavier than his happiness.

She cursed Maka for deducting she was behind the poisoned wine. She cursed for turning her son against her and now if she tried to compromise their union, Soul would resent her. He wouldn't care if he had proof or not, he would accuse her all the same and turn against her. She could not have her son run off to Scotland and abandon the crown.

Merely looking at her made her stomach turn in despise for her.

It made it all worse as she kept on advancing and advancing and advancing in the archery tournament. It went to the point she started thinking she would actually win. If so, she could've used this moment to poison the victory rose with a slow poison that would've slowly killed her. Of course Soul would instantly accuse her of her decreasing health and he would disown her.

Oh if there was only a way!

Queen Maka once again hit the bull's eye and the audience applauded, gaining another point against her opponent the English Ambassador. My, oh my, oh my. Such an exciting match between England and Scotland and it seemed like Scotland would win to Giriko's dismay.

But she would not win against Soul in the final.

If he did not feel like throwing away his victory to please his fiancée, which he would probably do.

Queen Maka hit the bull's eye and won her match against the English Ambassador who threw his bow on the ground. The final had arrived and Soul entered the fields with his bow.

Eibon inhaled loudly from behind her.

She recognized the sound all too well. The sound of the sudden vision he got. She turned her head slightly. "What did you see?"

"Queen Maka… and Prince Soul," he whispered back.

"What about them?"

"Prince Soul…" he whispered. "He's no longer going to die. But Queen Maka will. By an arrow. But… he will willingly follow her into her grave."

Queen Kathrine's lips tightened as she inhaled deeply.

…

"You made it too easy for me," Maka grinned as she held the victory red rose in her hand. "I thought you were trained by the finest masters of archery, far superior masters than the nun who knew the basics of archery."

Soul chuckled heartily. "For your information, I did try my very hardest. All my opponents up until you threw away their chance at victory in fear of angering the king." He brushed her shoulder with his. "But I guess you do not fear the King of France."

Maka blew a raspberry. "Why would I fear him? Now when you have warned your mother, there is nothing to fear. Besides one day he will become my in-law." A smile spread on her face and she gently caressed his hand. "And I have you by my side."

"You will always have it."

Her cheeks flushed and she allowed her pinkie to entwine with his.

"Prince Soul!"

Oh death she wanted to wring the girl's neck.

They turned around to find the one bold girl: Anya Hepburn. She tilted her head cutely and looked at Soul with such a gaze that had her stomach turning.

"You will have to excuse us, we have a private audience with the king and queen." Soul bowed his head respectfully to Anya. Soul boldly wrapped his arm around Maka's waist and he led her toward the throne room. "Besides, I can't have my fiancée go envious because of a lady who has no claim on me or interest on my part," Soul whispered into her ear.

"Was it that obvious?"

"Yes, and it's understandable. I would be bothered too if someone tried to lay a claim on you."

"But I trust you. I know where your heart lies and I shouldn't be bothered." Maka said.

"And I trust you too, but being bothered or concerned only shows you care and treasure me. It is quite flattering." His thumb gently caressed her spine. "But I would rather not see this bitter feeling within you. It may momentarily flatter me, but I would rather not you feel such a bitter feeling."

"The same goes for you."

They arrived to the throne room and to their comfort, the heavy wooden doors closed behind them, leaving them alone with the King and Queen of France. King Alistair and Queen Kathrine sat on their throne with their heads held high.

"Well? What causes this private audience?" King Alistair spoke.

"You know why," Soul said, grabbing Maka's hand and entwined their fingers now when no guards or servants could witness their intimacy. "We want a wedding date."

King Alistair rolled his eyes. "Here we go again."

"We want to marry each other and you are preventing it." Maka spoke with strength. "You are holding it off and you know not announcing a wedding date between Soul and I will only weaken France in the eyes of the enemy."

King Alistair slowly lowered his hand he had rested his chin in boredom, now dedicating his full attention toward her.

"I am aware like you are aware the Scottish and French alliance has kept foes at bay and now with the blatant absence of a wedding date, our enemies are noticing. I would not be surprised if the Englishmen started pushing the battlefront at Calais or the Englishmen started making an alliance with Navarre." Maka threw the words like knives at the royalties on their thrones. To her surprise, King Alistair broke out laughing.

"Ah, Queen Maka," he laughed heartily with a smile on his lips. "You are more intelligent than I thought."

"Since this is so amusing, then humour me this. You want Scotland as your alliance. If you did not, you would've broken off the engagement. Tell me why you are showing the world the fragile alliance between Scotland and France. What are you gaining from this waiting?"

"My, my, so feisty." King Alistair stood up from his throne, jaw paralleled with the floor as he superiorly stared her down. "You are going to need it if you are going to go head-to-head against England."

"England?" Soul questioned.

"Yes I have been putting off the wedding intentionally," King Alistair confessed. "I was waiting for England to make their move."

"What are you talking about?" Queen Kathrine now turned toward her husband, leaving Maka confused as well over the surprise in her tone. There had always been an asymmetry in their ruling, but she thought Queen Kathrine was somewhat informed on their situation.

"We all know the Queen of England is ill and soon, she will have to name her successor. Her choices are between her bastard daughter Arachne who is a protestant or you, Queen of Scots."

"Me?" Maka asked baffled.

"Arachne is a bastard and a protestant, but you, you are a catholic and you have a claim to the English throne by blood." King Alistair informed with superiority in his air. "You are the logical choice for England. You are a catholic and related to the Queen of England by blood. The English throne is your birth right."

It clicked for her.

All this time when her engagement to Soul was announced when they were simply toddlers, it was all for England. King Alistair took her claim to the English throne in account and all this time, they weren't protecting her from the Englishmen simply because she would be the future Queen of France, but because King Alistair saw it was his chance to get his hands on two countries in one marriage and crush the major enemy to France.

"You want me to lay a claim on England, don't you?" Maka spoke.

"That is my term. Agree and I will have the wedding at the end of the month."

"Father that is too dangerous!" Soul yelled. "She would declare herself as an enemy to England for life."

"She is already a threat to the Englishmen. It's not going to change anything." King Alistair waved it away.

"You are out of your mind!" Queen Kathrine screamed at her husband to Maka's surprise. "If Maka lays a claim on England and they choose Arachne as her successor France would permanently become England's foe and they would surely do everything in their power to crush us. Is that the legacy you want to leave behind to your son when he bears the crown?!"

"The only thing I'm leaving behind is three kingdoms for you to rule! I'm leaving you a French empire to rule at your disposal." King Alistair screamed.

"I do not want to put France in danger!" Soul yelled back as his hand on Maka's tightened. "All I want to rule is France with Maka by my side. I do not want war, I want peace."

"And so do I. I do not wish to anger England any further. I have no desire to lay any claim on England." Maka backed him up.

King Alistair smirked as he took a seat on his throne again. "You think there is a choice? This is no choice. You have to lay your claim on England."

"And I refuse."

"Then France will break the alliance and you will not marry my son. Scotland will become an enemy to France and you will no longer have to worry only about England."

"You are threatening her with war?" Soul exclaimed. "Father this alliance has been set for years. You can't simply tear it up because of England."

"This alliance was always set for England!" He banged his fist on the wooden armrest of his throne. "I want England and she will give England to me." King Alistair straightened his neck. "I expect you will comply by the night of the masquerade ball."

[bethanygracewilliams]

Phantom of the Opera North American Tour

On August 6th, I got the incredible opportunity to see the new production of Phantom of the Opera live and let me just say, I had a fantastic time. It was absolutely gorgeous and it was everything I hoped it would be.

If you haven't seen the new production yet and are planning to, you might want to skip this post as it will contain spoilers for the new production.

First off, let me just say that this is the first time I've ever seen Phantom live and the sets were beautiful. I couldn't get over the amount of detail and complexity in each set. It was also amazing how they managed to fit so many different sets into such a compact area. The rooftop, the graveyard, and the Phantom's lair were some of my personal favourites. And, of course, the chandelier was gorgeous. The costumes were beautifully crafted and the wigs were wonderfully styled. I know the Phantom's new wig has been received with both good and bad responses, but personally, I loved it. I thought it was cute.

I fell in love with both the voices and performances of the Phantom and Christine, played by Victor Wallace and Kaitlyn Davis respectively. Their voices were breathtaking and their performances, at least in my opinion, felt very emotional and personal. Carlotta, Meg, and Mme. Giry, played by Trista Moldovan, Julie Eicher, and Kristie Dale Sanders respectively, were all amazing. They were very entertaining and they all had those certain aspects of their characters spot on. Andre, played by Edward Staudenmayer, was absolutely hilarious. He was fantastic at his role and he made me laugh so many times throughout the show. Raoul, Piangi, and Firmin, played by Jordan Craig, Phumzile Sojola, and David Benoit respectively, were, in my opinion, a little weak compared to the rest of the cast, but by no means bad. I still enjoyed their performances vey much.

The orchestra was outstanding. I've never heard an orchestra live before and it might be one of the best things I've ever heard. The music was so crisp and clear and it was even more beautiful live than it is on the 25th anniversary DVD. I can't even begin to describe the feeling I got hearing the overture live.

The pyrotechnics and special effects were so cool to see live! The fog was so magical. The fire was intense and so bright, I actually had to shut my eyes. I was prepared for all but one gunshot. That one nearly gave me a heart attack. And, of course, it was one of the coolest things I've ever experienced to see that chandelier drop live in front of my eyes. I loved it!

Now, let me get into some of the specific things I loved about this production. I loved how they did the sequence of the opera house coming back to life during the overture. They way they kept Raoul on the stage while ballerinas and stagehands made their way onto the stage, almost like he was watching a memory, was so beautiful. And it was so cool how the two walls spun around to be the opera boxes.

Of course, the mirror scene was very cool, with all the lights and smoke as the Phantom brought Christine through. The whole sequence of him bringing her to his lair for the first time was amazing. I loved how they were up in the flies and then all the stairs came out of the wall for them to go down underground. I also loved the little detail, when they were going down the stairs, Christine stopped halfway down and when they Phantom realized she wasn't following anymore, he came back up to her level and offered her his hand. I thought that was sweet. I was a little disappointed that they didn't have the boat during Phantom Of The Opera, but was extremely excited when they did in The Final Lair instead. I also loved during the 'Sing!' part of Phantom Of The Opera, the Phantom really seemed like a teacher. He wasn't just pushing her to sing, he was also telling her to breathe, gesturing to her entire diaphragm, teaching her how to hit those notes. I really liked that because I feel that in many productions of Phantom, we lose that teacher quality in him because they focus only on the fact that he's in love with her.

One of my favourite things in this production was the choreography for Music Of The Night. I absolutely loved it. It just felt so personal and sensitive and sweet. The Phantom gave Christine some of his music for her to look through and it was so sweet. He urged her to look through with the excitement of a little kid. He was so proud to show her the music he had written just for her. Then, he put a blindfold over her eyes because he was still teaching her and he wanted her to feel the music, not just hear it or sing it. He wanted her to really understand the music and feel it in her soul. Again, I loved seeing the Phantom actually teaching her, not just obsessing over her. Another thing I liked was that even with his mask on, he was still so hesitant for Christine to look at him, almost as if he were afraid of her gaze. He was also extremely reluctant to touch her or for her to touch him. Even though he had brought her down to his domain, he was constantly shying away from her. One thing I didn't like, though, was during the second last verse, the Phantom just suddenly picked Christine up, carried her over to the bed, laid her down and that's how she fell asleep. It felt very out of character for the Phantom to just blatantly invade her personal space when he wasn't leading her somewhere or begging her not to leave, especially since he had been so hesitant to let her look at him, let alone touch him, through most of the song.

However, I did like how they did the first face reveal. By having the Phantom remove his mask on his own to clean his face gave it such a personal, intimate touch that I absolutely loved. If he had known Christine was awake, he never would have done that. Because he thought she was still sleeping, he deemed it safe to go about his normal routine and letting us have a glimpse into the everyday rituals of the Phantom was something I really loved. And the fact that he started crying because he felt bad for scaring Christine with his face was so heartbreaking. It was a perfect choice.

The way they killed Buquet, played by Dan Debenport, was really well done, in my opinion. They had the Phantom disguise himself as a stage hand so by the time Buquet realized who it was, it was too late. They actually showed the Phantom tying the noose around Buquet's neck (when in reality, he was hooking it to his shirt so he didn't actually hang) and I thought that was a nice touch. And with the ballerinas screaming and the music, the whole scene felt so dark and sinister. It was amazing.

Another thing I didn't like was that, right before All I Ask Of You, Christine actually contemplated jumping off of the roof of the opera house to escape from the Phantom. It felt very out of character for her, but in a way that I just can't describe. I just didn't like it. However, I did like that after she collapsed onto the floor, Raoul got down on his hands and knees during All I Ask Of You, to get down on her level, and he inched towards her just a little bit at a time. Then, when he got close enough, he wrapped her in a big hug and held her close. Honestly, it was so sweet and I could feel how much Raoul truly cared for Christine in those moments.

I was the most excited and the most nervous about the All I Ask Of You Reprise because it's one of my favourite songs from the whole show. Thankfully, my worries were completely misplaced because Victor Wallace absolutely nailed it. He started out so angry because he felt so hurt and betrayed by Christine, but he sang the line, "he was bound to love you when he heard you sing" so softly, like, for a moment, he didn't blame Raoul for falling in love with Christine. How could he not? But, of course, he soon became angry once again and brought down the chandelier by shooting the lines holding it up from Box 5. So much happened in that scene, I had trouble seeing it all. The chandelier swung and sparked and eventually dropped, people were screaming, curtains and backdrops fell... It was so overwhelming, but it was one of the best moments of my life. I think the people in the front rows had a heart attack when the chandelier dropped, especially if they didn't know it was coming. It was great.

Getting to see Masquerade was also such an incredible experience. The costumes, the music, the colours, the dancing... It was all so amazing and spectacular to see live! I was disappointed with the Phantom's Red Death costume, though. Instead of the big, elaborate costume with the huge feathered hat and intricate skull mask, it was just a red soldier's uniform with a bedazzled half mask. So, yeah, that was a little disappointing.

Something I did like, though, was that while Mme. Giry was telling Raoul about the Phantom's past, they illustrated it through shadows projected on the walls. They showed a man getting a bag pulled off of his head and being whipped by another man and when Mme. Giry merely said that he escaped, they showed the Phantom strangling whoever had kept him captive. It was a nice additional visual and helped better illustrate his story.

A little detail that made me laugh during Notes 2 was that Piangi was eating chocolates and stuff in the background and when the Phantom's note said that he needed to lose weight, he just stopped eating and shoved them somewhere in his jacket. That made me chuckle. And when Kaitlyn Davis sang Twisted Every Way, it quickly became one of my favourite renditions of it. It was so haunting and absolutely beautiful. And when everybody was rehearsing the Phantom's opera and the piano started playing itself, I loved the detail of fire coming out of the piano and the way that the chorus seemed to be addressing Christine with the song. She was so overwhelmed and upset and all of those things really made the whole scene more intense. Also, when Mme. Giry asked Carlotta if she could be certain the composer wasn't present, Carlotta warily looked up for anymore backdrops or sandbags to drop, then stepped out of harm's way and crossed herself. It was just a little detail, but it was one of my favourites.

And then, of course, Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again was beautifully performed by Kaitlyn Davis. It was powerful and emotional and heart-wrenching. It was everything I hoped for and more. It was an incredibly chilling rendition. Wandering Child was also one I was nervous for as it's also one of my favourites, but again, as soon as I heard it, it blew all my worries away. It really felt like Christine was being entranced, hypnotized, by the Phantom. Raoul called out to her, grabbed her hand, even stood right in front of her and she was still being pulled by the Phantom's voice. Then, Raoul did something I did not expect. He just ran up and punched the Phantom right in the face! I almost burst out laughing right there in the theatre; it was incredible. I couldn't believe he had actually decked him, and then went a step further and slammed him up against the wall. I loved that change because, honestly, Raoul should want to fight for Christine in any way possible. Again, it really made me feel how much Raoul cared for Christine.

One of the coolest things was right before the Phantom's opera began and you could hear him saying "I'm here" from all different directions. It was super trippy, especially since I've never experienced it live. And may I just say, Point Of No Return was a lot steamier and a lot more touchy-feely in this production than it was in the 25th anniversary. Like, we all thought it was some hot stuff with Ramin and Sierra? Yeah, this one was twice as bad and I was like, parents brought kids under the age of ten to this. Wonder if they're questioning that decision if they haven't already? So, yeah, that was a little wild. One detail that I did like, though, was that the actor who played Piangi was black while the one who played the Phantom was white. When they made the switch, the Phantom was wearing gloves in addition to the cloak. Then, after a few verses he took them off and put his hands in front of Christine's eyes so she could clearly see it was him. Then, throughout the rest of the song, you could see that Christine was manipulating him to keep him on stage so she could reveal it was the Phantom. You could see the glances she was throwing to Raoul up in his box. I don't know, I just really loved those little details. Also, after the line "past the point of no return", both Christine and the Phantom did this neat little salsa stamp after singing the line. That was another little thing I liked. And, of course, the Phantom's proposal was heart-wrenching as usual. And instead of being instantly angry when Christine pulled off his mask and wig, he just gave off this silent sort of hurt and betrayal and it was so heartbreaking. Also, nobody seemed to care about the fact that Piangi had been hanged? Like, it just got completely overlooked because the Phantom kidnapped Christine. That was a little weird.

Like I mentioned before, I was so happy to see the boat while the Phantom started Down Once More. It really made up for not having it in Phantom Of The Opera. When Raoul showed up, the Phantom held Christine with his arm around her throat to deter Raoul from trying anything. That then shifted into the position where the Phantom is holding Christine behind him by the throat, effectively strangling her without even realizing it. They had that little detail of the Phantom looking at his hand in horror once he released Christine and realizing what he had done. I really appreciate that because the Phantom would never intentionally hurt Christine, but he would unintentionally. And when the three of them started all singing at once, there was a nice detail there. Christine started taking the Phantom's sheet music and began crumpling it up, page by page. It was such a defiant action, like she was saying, "If you're going to take away what I love, I'm going to take away what you love." Of course, Erik was extremely upset by that and immediately, he was on the floor, scrambling for his music and that, in turn, gave Christine a chance to go to Raoul. The Phantom was quick to pull her away from him, though, and he wound up pushing her down onto the bed. Now, I'm not gonna lie, I was extremely concerned that things were gonna get a little a rapey and I was like, please do not do that to Erik's character because he would never even dream of abusing Christine in such a way. Thankfully, however, it seemed more like that's just where he wound up pushing her because that's where they were closest to. He's so manic and unstable in the final scene that he was just doing whatever he could to get her away from Raoul in that moment. When the Phantom told Christine to make her choice, he was already crying, he was so overwhelmed.

And then, of course, the kiss. We gotta talk about that. It was so heart-wrenching, it was beautiful. Christine kissed him and he just froze. His mind couldn't even register that Christine was kissing him. He actually fell to his knees and Christine just came right down with him, giving him a big hug after she pulled away from the kiss. It was heartbreaking and I had a super hard time not crying. That whole moment was just full of such powerful, raw emotion. It was possibly the best moment in the whole show.

One thing that absolutely broke my heart was that the Phantom delivered the line, "Christine, I love you" without knowing she was even there. After Christine and Raoul had left and we had our heartbreaking reprise of Masquerade, the Phantom was on the floor, trying to straighten out the sheet music Christine had crumpled up. Christine came back to return his ring, but before she even said anything, the Phantom delivered that line and Christine had to try her hardest not to burst into sobs(as did I). She just left the ring on a table without letting the Phantom know she was there and then quietly left with Raoul. That just absolutely ripped my heart right out of my chest. I also really loved that Raoul came with Christine when she went to return the ring, like he understood that it was something she needed to do, that she felt so sorry for the Phantom, she couldn't just leave without doing that. And when the Phantom can hear them singing, he just stops trying to salvage his music because if Christine won't perform his work, then no one should because he wrote it specifically for her. It's so sad.

The ending was different than what I expected. I expected him to sit in the chair with the black cloak, then he'd be gone. I was really surprised when Meg and the others stumbled into his lair while he was still putting on the black cloak. And because he had no escape, he simply walked over to his bed and stood there, seemingly resigning himself to being captured. Boy, was I shocked when Meg moved backwards with the black cloak, then revealed that no one was wearing it anymore. And how she handed the mask to a police man? I don't know, I just really liked that detail.

Seeing Phantom live was possibly one of the greatest experiences of my life and I'm so thankful and grateful that I got to have this incredible chance. It's something that I'll remember forever and even if I see it live again, this first time will always hold a very special place in my heart.