#Adams Political Dynasty

[deadpresidents]

"I hope and confidently believe that you will be prepared to bear this event with calmness and composure, if not with indifference; that you will not suffer it to prey on your mind or affect your health. In your retirement you will have not only the consolation...that you have discharged all the duties of a virtuous citizen, but the genuine pleasure of reflecting that by the wisdom and firmness of your administration you left...[the] country in safe and honorable peace...In resisting...the violence of France, you saved the honor of the American name from disgrace...By sending the late mission you restored an honorable peace to the nation, without tribute, without bribes, without violating any previous engagements...You have, therefore, given the most decisive proof that...you were the man not of any party but of the whole nation."

-- John Quincy Adams, in a consoling letter written to his father, President John Adams, on November 25, 1800, after John Adams was defeated by Thomas Jefferson in his 1800 campaign for re-election.

Twenty-eight years later, John Quincy Adams would also be defeated in his campaign for re-election as President. During the first 50 years of the American Presidency, the only two Presidents who failed to win re-election were the Adams father and son.

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Friends, enemies, comrades, Jacobins, Monarchist, Bonapartists, gather round. We have an important announcement:

The continent is beset with war. A tenacious general from Corsica has ignited conflict from Madrid to Moscow and made ancient dynasties tremble. Depending on your particular political leanings, this is either the triumph of a great man out of the chaos of The Terror, a betrayal of the values of the French Revolution, or the rule of the greatest upstart tyrant since Caesar.

But, our grand tournament is here to ask the most important question: Now that the flower of European nobility is arrayed on the battlefield in the sexiest uniforms that European history has yet produced (or indeed, may ever produce), who is the most fuckable?

The bracket is here: full bracket and just quadrant I

Want to nominate someone from the Western Hemisphere who was involved in the ever so sexy dismantling of the Spanish empire? (or the Portuguese or French American colonies as well) You can do it here

The People have created this list of nominees:

France:

Jean Lannes

Josephine de Beauharnais

Thérésa Tallien

Jean-Andoche Junot

Joseph Fouché

Charles Maurice de Talleyrand

Joachim Murat

Michel Ney

Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte (Charles XIV of Sweden)

Louis-Francois Lejeune

Pierre Jacques Étienne Cambrinne

Napoleon I

Marshal Louis-Gabriel Suchet

Jacques de Trobriand

Jean de dieu soult.

François-Étienne-Christophe Kellermann

17.Louis Davout

Pauline Bonaparte, Duchess of Guastalla

Eugène de Beauharnais

Jean-Baptiste Bessières

Antoine-Jean Gros

Jérôme Bonaparte

Andrea Masséna

Antoine Charles Louis de Lasalle

Germaine de Staël

Thomas-Alexandre Dumas

René de Traviere (The Purple Mask)

Claude Victor Perrin

Laurent de Gouvion Saint-Cyr

François Joseph Lefebvre

Major Andre Cotard (Hornblower Series)

Edouard Mortier

Hippolyte Charles

Nicolas Charles Oudinot

Emmanuel de Grouchy

Pierre-Charles Villeneuve

Géraud Duroc

Georges Pontmercy (Les Mis)

Auguste Frédéric Louis Viesse de Marmont

Juliette Récamier

Bon-Adrien Jeannot de Moncey

Louis-Alexandre Berthier

Étienne Jacques-Joseph-Alexandre Macdonald

Jean-Mathieu-Philibert Sérurier

Catherine Dominique de Pérignon

Guillaume Marie-Anne Brune

Jean-Baptiste Jourdan

Charles-Pierre Augereau

Auguste François-Marie de Colbert-Chabanais

England:

Richard Sharpe (The Sharpe Series)

Tom Pullings (Master and Commander)

Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington

Jonathan Strange (Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell)

Captain Jack Aubrey (Aubrey/Maturin books)

Horatio Hornblower (the Hornblower Books)

William Laurence (The Temeraire Series)

Henry Paget, 1st Marquess of Anglesey

Beau Brummell

Emma, Lady Hamilton

Benjamin Bathurst

Horatio Nelson

Admiral Edward Pellew

Sir Philip Bowes Vere Broke

Sidney Smith

Percy Smythe, 6th Viscount Strangford

George IV

Capt. Anthony Trumbull (The Pride and the Passion)

Barbara Childe (An Infamous Army)

Doctor Maturin (Aubrey/Maturin books)

William Pitt the Younger

Robert Stewart, 2nd Marquess of Londonderry (Lord Castlereagh)

George Canning

Scotland:

Thomas Cochrane

Colquhoun Grant

Ireland:

Arthur O'Connor

Thomas Russell

Robert Emmet

Austria:

Klemens von Metternich

Friedrich Bianchi, Duke of Casalanza

Franz I/II

Archduke Karl

Marie Louise

Franz Grillparzer

Wilhelmine von Biron

Poland:

Wincenty Krasiński

Józef Antoni Poniatowski

Józef Zajączek

Maria Walewska

Władysław Franciszek Jabłonowski

Adam Jerzy Czartoryski

Antoni Amilkar Kosiński

Zofia Czartoryska-Zamoyska

Stanislaw Kurcyusz

Russia:

Alexander I Pavlovich

Alexander Andreevich Durov

Prince Andrei (War and Peace)

Pyotr Bagration

Mikhail Miloradovich

Levin August von Bennigsen

Pavel Stroganov

Empress Elizabeth Alexeievna

Karl Wilhelm von Toll

Dmitri Kuruta

Alexander Alexeevich Tuchkov

Barclay de Tolly

Fyodor Grigorevich Gogel

Ekaterina Pavlovna Bagration

Ippolit Kuragin (War and Peace)

Prussia:

Louise von Mecklenburg-Strelitz

Gebard von Blücher

Carl von Clausewitz

Frederick William III

Gerhard von Scharnhorst

Louis Ferdinand of Prussia

Friederike of Mecklenburg-Strelitz

Alexander von Humboldt

Dorothea von Biron

The Netherlands:

Ida St Elme

Wiliam, Prince of Orange

The Papal States:

Pius VII

Portugal:

João Severiano Maciel da Costa

Spain:

Juan Martín Díez

José de Palafox

Inês Bilbatua (Goya's Ghosts)

Haiti:

Alexandre Pétion

Sardinia:

Vittorio Emanuele I

Lombardy:

Alessandro Manzoni

Denmark:

Frederik VI

Sweden:

Gustav IV Adolph

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Science Fiction: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have science fiction! Check under the cut for 7 fics that include a lot of space and other sci-fi tropes, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

The Schwarzschild Solution by dawl_and_dapple (13650, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A series of meetings between Caleb and Essek across the galaxy.

Reccer says: Loved the build between them and the picture of the universe they live in

A Tapestry of Stars by Cinderstorm (127981, Not Rated) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn, Rape/Non-con, Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent, Domestic Abuse, WIP

Caleb and Essek end up in a political arranged marriage - in space!

Reccer says: There's so much politics and intrigue and feelings!

into the desert of your pitiless faith by burningdarkfire (24913, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is a newly-arrived ambassador in Rexxentrum, Beauregard is his assigned cultural liaison, and Caleb is the consecuted soul at the back of his mind. Empires and Dynasties do not serve: they consume. (A Memory called Empire AU)

Reccer says: So lyrical, and fascinating - you don't need to be familiar with A Memory Called Empire to read it, but reading this fic might make you want to read the novel, and that's a double win in my opinion.

calling occupants of interplanetary craft by principessa (1273, General) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Essek Thelyss, the sole Vulcan on the USS Eden Horizon, would quite like to be left to his experiments, and for the rest of the crew to stop calling his intellectual discussions with Commander Widogast 'weird science flirt lunch dates.'

Reccer says: It's a lot of fun!

you must first invent the universe by renquise (3466, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

The Mighty Nein are getting ready for a big fight. Caleb can't seem to sleep while they wait, so he ends up talking with the ship instead.

Reccer says: Absolutely fascinating world building!!

such a constellation by Chrome (6362, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Exhausted and disillusioned with Starfleet in the aftermath of the destruction of Romulus and the loss of his friend, Romulan maybe-spy Essek Thelyss, Caleb Widogast retires to his parent's farm in Germany with the intent to view the stars through a telescope from now on. But an unexpected arrival changes everything, and Caleb discovers that the wider universe may not quite be done with him yet.

Reccer says: This is a fabulous fusion that encapsulates the wizards so perfectly in a different story. Worth every second of the read!

Sufficiently Advanced Magic by SaltCore (5880, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Have you ever wondered what would happen if Caleb and Essek met Spock, Captain Kirk and the protagonists of the Locked Tomb series? No? Me neither, but I sure am glad I found out!

Reccer says: For one, the origin story of this fic is uniquely wholesome - it came to be as a result of all three pairs reaching the finale of a shipping tumblr poll, to extend an olive branch and honour the ships' place in their fandoms' hearts. Secondly, it's SO funny. There's humour in every little detail and it gives me a Douglas Adams vibe. The characters' voices in their POVs are distinct and endearing too. I keep returning to it when I need my spirits lifted.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Established Relationships!

[trans-corvo]

Youtube Video Essayists part 2

I made one of these lists years ago, so if you're wondering why big names like hbomberguy and Kat Blaque aren't here, that's why.

Science and Tech

Miniminuteman - Archaeologist and science educator whose content focuses on archaeological mysteries and debunking pseduoarcheaology. Videos average about 20 minutes to an hour and a half.

Adam Something - Most of his videos focus on urbanism and transport (it's more interesting than it sounds, I promise), but he also occasionally covers politics and culture. His bread and butter is tearing apart impractical billionaire passion projects (hyperloop, the cybertruck, Munger Hall). Big fan of trains. Average video playtime is 10 to 20 minutes.

Petal Palmer - A pre-med student and cancer patient who covers true stories of medical oddities and malpractice. Some of my favourites are on the Tylenol murders, the woman who froze alive (and survived unscathed), and fraudulent cancer awareness orgs. Videos run from 10 minutes to an hour and a half.

Politics and Culture

Caelan Conrad - Their channel mainly covers gay and trans rights, with a focus on debunking right-wing narratives and commentators. Videos average 30 minutes to an hour and a half.

Fundie Fridays - Started as a channel where Jen did her makeup and talked about various figures and sects of Christian fundamentalism, has since grown to include her husband and to cover politics. Very respectful in her tone, and very funny. I'd recommend their videos on the Miracle Mineral Solution (bleach), Eugene Scott, Duck Dynasty, and Gwen Shamblin Lara. Their early videos are only around 10 to 20 minutes, but these days they run as long as an hour and a half.

Khadija Mbowe - Honestly, her channel could fit under any of these categories. Her content varies wildly, but is always engaging and thought provoking. I'd recommend her videos on meritocracy in health and weightloss, Poor Things and engaging with 'problematic' material, and Barbie and white feminism. Videos average 20 to 40 minutes

F.D Signifier - Very well researched and presented commentary on politics, media, and black manhood. I'd recommend his videos on Eminem and white rappers, what makes men desirable, white men and edge lord movies, and how black athletes are exploited. Videos average 40 minutes to an hour and a half.

Foreign Man in a Foreign Land - Commentary on race and Caribbean culture. I'd recommend his videos on racism in gaming, tourism as the new slavery, and Elizabeth II and english colonialism. Videos average 20 minutes to an hour.

Arts and Entertainment

Broey Deschanel - Channel focuses on film and film criticism. I'd highly recommend her videos on the problems with method acting, feeling cynical about Barbie, and the 'death' of cinema. Videos average about 20 to 50 minutes and have a high production value.

Jane Mulcahy - Film and tv analysis, with a focus on media aimed towards female audiences. Lighthearted but thoughtful. I'd recommend her videos on the Red White and Royal Blue movie, Lifetime 'Daddy' movies, and the 'psycho biddy' genre. Videos average 20 minutes to an hour.

Verily Bitchie - Examining movies and tv through a queer and feminist lense, along with occasional videos on culture on politics. I'd recommend her feminist critique of Doctor Who, a look at bisexual representation on TV, and her video on trial by tiktok. Videos average 10 minutes to an hour and a half.

Coldcrashpictures - Pretty standard long-form film analysis. I'd recommend his videos on the current state of Hollywood, Freaks (1932) and old school horror, the 2020 dumpster fire watchlist, and cinematic masculinity. Videos average 20 minutes to an hour.

Internet Culture

WURLD - Commentary on internet trends and culture. More lighthearted and off the cuff in her presentation. Best videos include Is Booktok Ruining Reading?, the obsession with reusable cups, and hustle culture is a nightmare. Videos run from 15 to 45 minutes.

Gabi Bell - A lot of variation in her content, ranging from internet culture, to (bad) movies, to (bad) tv. I'd recommend her videos on tiktok drama and fake verification. Videos average 10 to 50 minutes.

Tiffany Ferg - Content focused on internet analysis. I'd recommend her videos on concert culture, learned helplessness and tech illiteracy, and 'body trends' and plastic surgery. Videos average from 20 to 40 minutes.

Salem Tovar - Nuanced commentary on internet culture. I'd recommend her videos on gen Z's aesthetic obsession, millennial parenting problems, and filming strangers in public. Videos average from 30 minutes to an hour and a half.

Ro Ramdin - Probably the funniest person on this list, I can't recommend her enough. Videos are thoughtful well edited. I'd recommend her videos on Hogwarts Legacy and financially supporting JK Rowling, the NFT island, the metaverse, and XQC. Videos average 20 to 40 minutes.

Also, misc. video essays: 2010s Pop Feminism: A Painful Look Back, We Need to Talk about TikTok's Obsession with Face Reading and its Dark History, Transphobia: The Far Right and Liberalism, You're Wrong about Modern Art, Who is Killing Cinema? - A Murder Mystery, Transition Regret & the Fascism of Endings, I Debunked Every "Body Language Expert" on Youtube, These Stupid Trucks are Literally Killing Us, How Conservatives Created (and Cancelled) Gender.

[snarkybluechristian]

I have a fan theory that pieces of the character’s real names are in the names they have now and these names gives clues about their nationalities and identities.

Ragatha = Agatha, the most obvious, She is named after a Greek saint which could point to why she tries to be a good person.

Jax = Jackson or Jack, a nickname for John, a name of Jesus’ disciple and one of his closest friends. Jax has no traits of a disciple on the surface, but he could be a disillusioned one. He started out believing in salvation. Then he gave up on it and turned into a dick to hide his own pain.

Zooble = Zhu, a Chinese girl’s name for bamboo. This is a stretch but a bamboo is a plant with a hard outer shell that can grow through most obstacles. Maybe Zooble’s hard exterior and her apathy are hiding her soft core.

Gangle = Gyeong-Ja, a Korean girl’s name for a child who’s worthy of honor. Gangle is a pushover who cries a lot. Her arc might have a lot to do with growing into a stronger woman who stands up for herself and makes her own choices.

Kinger = King, This one is also obvious. King might not be his given name, but it has a lot to do with his job title and possibly how he was the creator of the game.

Pomni = Pamela, specifically this name is a play on the French word Pomme which is apple while Pamela is a Latin name for honey. Apple and honey are sweet treats with their own connotations. To get honey, you have to get past the bees and brave their stinging. This might be a way of saying Pomni will find the exit, but gaining freedom could be deadly. The apple supports it too since it’s, traditionally though not biblically accurately, seen as the fruit that Adam and Eve ate when they rebelled against God to get the knowledge of good and evil. They brought death into the world. Pomni might find what she’s looking for, but at a deadly cost.

Kaufmo = Cosimo, Cosimo de Medici was the first ruler of the Medici political dynasty in Italy. They ruled the banks and the arts and were sometimes shady people. This is also a stretch but Kaufmo may have been someone who had influence in his past life. Maybe he was a comedian or something else, but once he lost that fame, that was when he began questioning life’s meaning.

I know my theory holds little water, but it’s interesting to think about.

[girldraki]

its like that meme about dog owners vs cat owners but its like adam and evelyn go This is the first collective prong of our political dynasty our beautiful sons we have been brainwashing them since birth to most efficiently become administrative staff and/or accept their containment unquestioningly. also i think we had at least one girl but we lost track of that and founder says This is charles. I found him in the aegean sea and he is very small.

[horizon-verizon]

They are really angry that a Black female character is not falling in line with their weird racial taxonomy and is rightfully claiming her place inside the sexy elite white magical dynasty that her father and maternal grandmother belonged to instead of being shuffled to the side like the rest of the Velaryons 🤷‍♀️ Because by their logic, Alicent’s dragon riding children should be more aligned with the Hightowers and Oldtown than the Targaryens irregardless of their personal character traits, goals, political ambitions etc.

They are still yapping about this, oh my god! Nothing else better to do, like read any of the books thus far or you know, F&B, the completed telling of what happens before and during the Dance!

They'll be angry at the Targtowers being called Targtower or if fine with it conceive it as them being a positive juxtaposition to their idea of what Targs are, but if they are upset abt it they will never carry over that logic over to a Black female scion of a Targaryen bc she apparently is not his heir...okay Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, Daeron were not Viserys' heirs either, so you arbitraily assign Targness to the people you simply wish to have power. thus you making Baela a Velaryon and Corlys' heir when even HE didn't want her for YEARS just shows your ass.

They want their cake and eat it too: Aegon is heir by right of being firstborn male but also the King's word isn't law. being a King has no special political meaning or privileges (why are the greens and green stans so adamant that the greens get the throne, then?!), or it never matters when these people in this society are deliberating succession rights...

They want to use "law of the land" or customs of the land or the habits and practices of the lords, but will blatantly ignore the very real historical events and patterns in Westeros negating their points. What exactly do you want to be, to?

Anti-monarchy and down with monarchy and all that comes with it, or reify it through supporting the most entitled males thus far in that history of the royal succession?!

Not very demure, not very mindful (just had to).

[jurassicworldtieindrpepper]

Reading List

to be updated constantly

Articles:

"Why Women Online Can’t Stop Reading Fairy Porn" by C.T. Jones for Rolling Stone

"They Called 911 for Help. Police and Prosecutors Used a New Junk Science to Decide They Were Liars." by Brett Murphy for ProPublica

"‘I Think My Husband Is Trashing My Novel on Goodreads!’" by Emily Gould for The Cut

"Woman in Retrograde" by Isabel Cristo for The Cut

"The unwanted Spanish soccer kiss is textbook male chauvinism. Don’t excuse it" by Moira Donegan for the Guardian

"I Started the Media Men List" by Moira Donegan for The Cut

"What Moira Donegan Did for Young Women Writers" by Jordana Rosenfeld for The Nation

"The Key Detail Missing From the Narrative About O.J. and Race" by Joel Anderson for Slate

"The Coiled Ferocity of Zendaya" by Matt Zoller Seitz for Vulture

"OJ Simpson died the comfortable death in old age that Nicole Brown should have had" by Moira Donegan for The Guardian

"Norm Macdonald Was the Hater O.J. Simpson Could Never Outrun" by Miles Klee for Rolling Stone

"Trans Stylists and Makeup Artists Are Reshaping Red Carpet Looks. Will They Get the Credit They’re Due?" by James Factora

"The ‘perfect Aryan’ child used in Nazi propaganda was actually Jewish" by Terrence McCoy for The Washington Post

"There Are Too Many Books; Or, Publishing Shouldn’t Be All About Quantity" by Maris Kreizman for Literary Hub

"An O.J. Juror on What The People v. O.J. Simpson Got Right and Wrong" by Ashley Reese for Vulture

"Super Cute Please Like" by Nicole Lipman for N + 1 Magazine

Essays:

Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture edited by Roxanne Gay

Creep: Accusations and Confessions by Myriam Gurba

"On Chappell Roan and Gen Z Pop" by Miranda Reinert

"In Memory of Nicole Brown Simpson" by Andrea Dworkin

"My Gender Is Dyke" by Alexandria Juarez for Autostraddle

"Columnists and Their Lives of Quiet Desperation" by Hamilton Nolan

Nonfiction:

Belabored: A Vindication of the Rights of Pregnant Women by Lyz Lenz

The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan

This American Ex-Wife: How I Ended My Marriage and Started My Life by Lyz Lenz

The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination by Sarah Schulman

Savage Appetites: Four True Stories of Women, Crime, and Obsession by Rachel Monroe

The Sexual Politics of Meat: A Feminist-Vegetarian Critical Theory by Carol J. Adams

Eros the Bittersweet by Anne Carson

Who Owns This Sentence? A History of Copyrights and Wrongs by David Bellos & Alexandre Montagu

The Once and Future Sex: Going Medieval on Women's Roles in Society by Eleanor Janega

Moby Dyke: An Obsessive Quest to Track Down the Last Remaining Lesbian Bars in America by Krista Burton

University of Nike: How Corporate Cash Bought American Higher Education by Joshua Hunt

What it Feels Like for a Girl by Paris Lees

Female Masculinity by J. Jack Halberstam

The Theory of Everything Else: A Voyage Into the World of the Weird by Dan Schreiber

Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach

Better Living Through Birding: Notes from a Black Man in the Natural World by Christian Cooper

Rivermouth: A Chronicle of Language, Faith, and Migration by Alejandra Oliva

Unlikeable Female Characters: The Women Pop Culture Wants You to Hate by Anna Bogutskaya

Born a Crime: Stories From a South African Childhood by Trevor Noah

Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson

The Lady from the Black Lagoon: Hollywood Monsters and the Lost Legacy of Milicent Patrick by Mallory O'Meara

Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End by Atul Gawande

Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg

Eyeliner: A Cultural History by Zahra Hankir

Against Technoableism: Rethinking Who Needs Improvement by Ashley Shew

The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny and Murder by David Grann

Know My Name by Chanel Miller

Empire of Pain: The Secret History of the Sackler Dynasty by Patrick Radden Keefe

Novelist as a Vocation by Haruki Murakami

Rape-Revenge Films: A Critical Study by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas

Fiction:

To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

Middlemarch by George Eliot

Just as You Are by Camille Kellogg

Just Happy to Be Here by Naomi Kanakia

The Misadventures of an Amateur Naturalist by Ceinwen Langley

Family Meal by Bryan Washington

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler

Ring Shout by P. Djèlí Clark

My Heart Is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal by Adriana Herrera

Blackouts by Justin Torres

We Do What We Do in the Dark by Michelle Hart

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

Less Is Lost by Andrew Sean Greer

The Faithless by C.L. Clark

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang

The Disenchantments by Nina LaCour

Everything Leads to You by Nina LaCour

Bliss Montage by Ling Ma

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

The Institute by Stephen King

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke

Frankenstein: Junji Ito Story Collection by Junji Ito

Her Body and Other Parties: Stories by Carmen Maria Machado

Young Mungo by Douglas Stuart

The Dark Forest by Liu Cixin

Snuff by Terry Pratchett

Travelers Along the Way: A Robin Hood Remix by Aminah Mae Safi

Only a Monster by Vanessa Len

[forensicated]

494 words into a fic for the first time in about 15 years, yay!

Must stop letting myself get distracted by researching things for it and then going off on tangents and stopping writing however.

For example: It took Jack 17 and a half years to get back to being Superintendent but it's like 3 years before compulsory retirement for Superintendent ranks. I like a thought that @everythingisdragons recently too - they could have made a real feature of Jack's bitterness that he only got it as essentially a stand in just before he had to retire and that if it wasn't so close (or the reboot necessitating it) then he'd never have gotten it back given his reluctance to play the political game.

Gina was an Inspector for 15 years, 6 of which were at Sun Hill. She became Inspector 10 years after joining the MET which (yes this is Gina - but!!) as a female back then was quite some going (83-93) Timeline also means she would likely have been a Sgt when she and Adam were together.

I still have the itching to write my original character, Charlie, in even though it would not fit canon wise and would not make sense given the time that I'm writing about (Conviction ep time) 🤣🤣

Even now I'm trying to flick through the first Conviction ep to see if it mentions where the Devlin's came from as I remember they were 'new' to Sun Hill as a little crime dynasty but can't remember where they'd been. I remember post fire Jason had been in Kent so I'm assuming it's there but I'm far too anal and must check it out to be sure. Then I got distracted by writing this. ETA: Not Kent- they're from the wonderful catch all of 'Up North'.

My brain is very like these gifs, each bit dancing off to distract me into something else! (context: they're teasing Ali who had signed for Strictly Come Dancing at the time)

[empirearchives]

“The terrestrial life of Napoleon is finished. As the head of a political party, as the leader of a dynasty, Napoleon no longer exists. But who here will deny the existence and permanent activity of his spirit? Religious men, military men and statesmen consult it by meditating upon his works and actions. Is not such meditation a true prayer? The mission of inspired artists is to raise themselves to the region in which this great spirit dwells, to evoke it and to make it visible to us. Napoleon is the archetype of the new art.”

— Adam Mickiewicz, 1844

Source: Lloyd S. Kramer, Threshold of a New World: Intellectuals and the Exile Experience in Paris, 1830-1848

Mickiewicz is regarded as national poet in Poland, Lithuania and Belarus. He is one of Poland’s “Three Bards” and is widely regarded as Poland’s greatest poet. He is the author of Pan Tadeusz, one of the last great epic poems in European literature.

[sabraeal]

All That Remains, Chapter 12: The Prince and the Princess [Part 2]

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2023, Day 3: Declaration

Also written for @lusakina, who has created a Fell Birthday Wish Bargain with Jordan, so that one of them always gets D&R, and the other always gets this, and thus they can trust that they will regularly get their favorite fluff and favorite angst in short order. Which has paid off doubly this year, since the stars aligned and both their requests worked for Obiyukiweek, and thus their fluff & angst combo is back to back!

Once upon a time, there was a little girl.

Ah, but that is how stories begin, isn’t it? A girl, a boy, a prince, a witch, a troll with its mirror; a person, their decisive trait, the inciting event. A simple call that we rise to answer, a familiar tune that entices us to listen to the refrain.

But this story has already had its start. The journey is long underway, filled with high and lows, reversals and betrayals. This girl has had all the disappointments of a thousand lifetimes in but a single step, and yet, yet—

Her story is not yet done. Oh no, not nearly.

This is not how the story starts, but how it continues; how it makes miles into inches, and months to moments. How it turns interminable nights with doubt nibbling at the shadows into but a breath:

The girl walks for days and nights, with only her snowdrop for company.

*

The girl walks for days and nights with only her snowdrop for company. For as much courage as that delicate stem imparts wrapped around the shell the of her ear, the little flower is a poor conversationalist, not much given to the small talk the others in the garden had been. There are none of the tiger lily boasts or the babble of baby’s breath, but merely a comfortable silence, a knowing that if the girl spoke into the empty air, she would be heard, if not answered.

It is a comfort, one of her few now that summer’s bounty has long given way to autumn, and her precious shoes are long behind her. Mud squelches between her toes more often than not, cold as the dew that drips from the forest’s canopy. But she cannot stop, not while her boy might breathe. Not while she might yet be able to clutch his hands in hers and ask him to help tend their roses.

The only rests she allows herself are those to sleep and eat, though more and more often she finds her dinner on tree branches and on late-bearing bushes or hidden down between tree roots. There’s no need to stop then, to lose more time than the picking, but one day—

One day, the skies open, and the snowdrop’s dire prediction of thunder or snow sends her scurrying toward a cave’s mouth, lost beneath the scrub. She crawls inside, dry if not precisely warm, and chooses to wait out the storm.

It is pure chance that she is not the only one.

*

Despite her tutors’ high hopes, Shirayuki had never become the great appreciator of art that they seemed to expect from a princess. Even with every inch of the royal palace swathed in the country’s greatest works, the only commentary she could summon up when prompted was, it’s pretty. Or worse, I think I like it?

She had grown used to the rictus of Haki’s polite smile, all signs of pleasure dying as she offered her unsuitable assessments. It’s not about the quality of the art, the consort had tried to explain, too many times to count, it’s about how it moves you. About what it means.

Haruka might have huffed, might have made his disappointment known by the curve of his mouth and the clench in his knitted fingers, but he would at least pause as they passed, raising a hand to not quite brush over a haloed figure. This would be Adam, first of the Wisteria line— with a squint, she could see it the nose that would eventually smooth into Zen’s, and the cheekbones Izana would wear so proudly— painted as the sun god, breaking through the clouds. It’s an allusion to the way he wrested the power of the kingship from the previous dynasty, whose device was lightning descending from a cloud. Their divine right came from the claim of kinship with the sky god, who would throw bolts from his heavenly seat to punish the unworthy.

The lesson had been but a few moments, an aside while moving between more important topics, but for the first time, she understood why Zen had called him his favorite tutor, why he had said that prowling through the galleries beside his even strides had been one of the only good parts of rainy days. The marquis would never be emotive, but this talk made him animated, less an unforgiving edifice and more a man. She’d almost dare to call him approachable.

So it’s a…painting we like? She’d dared a quick glance at him, searching for some sign of approval. A good one?

His shoulders heaved with his sigh, but still, he nodded too. Yes, a good one.

And yet, when she sees that trailing tail on the water and the slender body that precedes it, rising from the depths of the pool with the same smile as a snake gives its prey, her only thought is of the fresco in the front hall. Nymphs, Zen had explained once, blushing; sirens, Haruka had corrected later with an awkward cough, meant to recall the hundred daughters sent to the third king of the Wisterias, tempting him to name a queen among them.

But it’s not a potential queen that prowls toward her now, sliding right up beside her, one arm pressed against the tile to hold her steady. “Come here often, Little Miss?”

“Um…?” Shirayuki’s never been one to be good with faces, let alone names— that had always been Obi’s forte. Just one of the many services I provide, Miss, he’d tell her, grin honed to a gleaming edge, I’ll remember your grudges good enough for both of us. And yet, there’s something about this woman, a familiarity in the way she moves, in the precise slant her smirk takes. “No, not really…?”

“Shirayuki?” There’s not so much as a ripple as Kiki cuts through the steam, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders and back, floating where it meets the water. The light casts her in shadow and sepia,  and oh, if only that fresco painter still lived, he would itch to commit her to plaster as well, nymph or siren or seamaid. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, Kiki!” She bobs higher in the pool, water splashing over her siren. “Ah, yes, I’m over here. Sorry, I didn’t mean to lose you.”

“It’s not your fault.” The tone is kind, but her body is tense, gaze wary where it lingers on the woman beside her. If she were some sort of sea creature, it would be one that hunted her own kind. “I shouldn’t have left you to—”

“Ah, it’s Blondie!” The siren surges out of the water, close enough that her breath stirs the hair on her neck. “And I bet when this is dry, it’s red, isn’t it, Little Lady?”

Kiki rises out of the water, no longer a nymph or seamaid but a goddess, blinding where the light halos around her. Limned as she is, Shirayuki sees the moment her jaw clenches, hand dropping to her hip only to find it bare. “And who are—?”

“Wait.” The woman’s eyes are wide enough to catch the light, flashing like two golden coins, and oh, there’s only one other person with a color like that. “You’re Obi’s friend. Torou!”

*

A great crow swoops down, settling on a stone scattered on the cave floor, just across from her. She thinks nothing of it, not at all, until it winks.

Caw, caw, it says, and because she is yet a child, and a child does not yet know what she should understand and what she should not, she hears it as, “Good day, good day, little one! What brings you here?”

Careful, the snowdrop whispers in her ear, always wary. Crows are tricksters and worse.

Were she a woman grown, the warning might spook her, might convince her to turn her shoulder and forget this crow-speak entirely. But she is yet a little girl, and children are the most accomplished tricksters of all.

“I am looking for a boy,” she says. “Have you seen him?”

*

“Well.” There’s a flutter of eyelashes before Torou moves, her sudden stillness all turned to a sinuous slink. “That’s putting it a little strong, but sure. We’re friendly.”

“Torou.” Kiki tries the name on her tongue, but no familiarity lights on her face, even if her shoulders do ease. “Strange that we meet you here. Again.”

“Not so strange, Blondie.” They may not be friends— Obi had begrudgingly called her a colleague, when pressed— but her mouth slants, so like Obi’s it makes her breath catch. “Last time we stumbled onto each other, you were coming from Tanbarun while I was going to. And this time, well…” Both her brows arch, too innocent. “Looks like we both might be heading toward.”

Shirayuki’s heart flutters in her throat, fear spiking through her like a rabbit with a fox outside it’s den, but Kiki’s face might well be made of marble for how little it gives away. “How do you figure that?”

Torou tips her head, smile spreading like butter in a hot pan. “Where else is a lady knight going to take a runaway princess?”

*

It happens between one blink and the next.

Kiki stands still as a statue, bath lapping around at waist, the dim light turning her skin from flesh to stone, a masterpiece so perfect it would make Viande’s masters despair. Water pools in the round of her belly button, winking in the light, and— and it’s a small detail to catch on, but Kiki is so rarely vulnerable like this. Even without leather and steel, she is armored by her station, by the prestige of Seiran, but now—

Now she lacks both, all of it left behind with her duties in Wistal. Because of her.

Salt burns, right at the corner of her eyes, threatening to let more than just a drop squeeze from them. Shirayuki ducks her head, trying to settle the sting with just a small flutter or two, but there’s a splash, hard enough that the water rolls up over her shoulders, and when she looks up—

Kiki has a knee pressed between Torou’s thighs, lips strung around her teeth in a snarl so fierce Izana’s best hounds would quiver.

“Just where,” she growls. “Did you hear that?”

*

It is so easy for a little girl to trust a crow, is it not? For her to simply ask what she needs, with not the slightest hint of fear. A trickster he may be, but there is little danger while she is healthy and hale, and he so much smaller than she. Were he to cross her, she could simply catch her neck between her two hands and twist. Not a thought that occupies the little girl’s mind, of course, but surely it passes through the crow’s, the complex calculation of all smaller, weaker things that must share their path creatures who smile with sharp teeth.

Perhaps it would be different if it were a snake, or a tiger. If there were some way for harm to come to her, perhaps the little girl might not trust so easily, not so soon after she had escaped from the sorceress who had twisted her will to adorn her garden.

Ah, but no, not our little girl. She would refuse to let her heart to be trampled, to walk around wounded and bleeding and call it strength. To close herself off from the crows and tiger and snakes and sorceresses because they might bite or peck or bend her to their will.

So often we would call that foolish. A sign of a soft thing not ready to face the harshness of the world. A child that needed to be protected, lest she hurt herself.

And surely, you will find, her snowdrop agrees.

*

It was impossible to live in Wistal and not know of Kiki’s skill. The guardsmen used to line up when she was in the yard, waiting their turn to take on the indomitable heir of Seiran. Shirayuki had seen it more than a few times passing from the pharmacy yo the main palace; men twice her size would charge at her, voices raised to a battle cry, and Kiki would dispatch them without a hint of sweat beading her brow, one right after the other.

Miss Kiki might look like a princess, Obi told her once after Sereg, steam curling up from his mug, but if I had to face either her or Sir in a real fight, I’d take the big guy every time.

Because he’s bigger?Slower, is what she meant, but it felt cruel to call Mitsuhide that when both Zen and Obi had done it more than enough over Kiki’s recent engagement.

That, he allowed with a shrug, but also… He smiles, like a throat around a knife. Sir wouldn’t be fighting to kill.

Kiki was lethal, that’s what he meant to say. And she’d understood that, the same way a man might know it’s dog could kill, given the reason. But it’s not until now, when Torou turns her head and the light glints along the flat of a small blade, pressed intimately across her neck, that Shirayuki realizes: she’s dangerous, too.

“Kiki…” It’s mean to be a warning, a plea, but it’s a squeak, the whole world feeling as if it’s escaped its moorings. “Don’t…”

“My, my.” Torou’s laugh is as languid as the stretch of her limbs. “Now you got me wondering where you had that one squirreled away, Blondie.” Her finger traces over the knob of Kiki’s wrist, suggestive. “Maybe even what else you got hidden up there too.”

Kiki huffs, one corner of her mouth tugging up her cheek. “Thought you said you didn’t like the dangerous ones.”

Her smile hones as sharp as the knife at her throat. “Oh, honey, you should know by now…I lied.”

A thin line of red beads where metal meets flesh. “I would not suggest doing that with me.”

Shirayuki is close enough to catch the hitch of Torou’s breath, to see the thin sheen of fear stretch across the gold field of her eyes before it fades into bravado. “Boo,” she groans, “you’re just as boring as I remember, Blondie.”

“You wouldn’t like me to get interesting.” There’s not a trace of humor when Kiki says, “Now answer the question. How did you know?”

Torou heaves a sigh so heavy her eyes roll too. “Oh please, like anyone between Yuris and Wirant hasn’t heard about the Second Prince’s wayward little wife-to-be. Doesn’t take a genius to see a red head and the heir to Seiran and do the math.”

Kiki’s grip slackens on the hilt of her knife, her eyes uncertain as they dart toward Shirayuki, a question that she doesn’t even begin to have the answer for. Torou, as sharp as Obi ever was, doesn’t miss it.

“Listen, Blondie.” Her slender fingers fold neatly over the arm at her throat like tiger stripes. “I got a head up because I know who Nan— Obi hung around. None these peddlers and pilgrims are gonna know a lady from the louse, let alone think they’re breaking bread with someone who might’ve been a Highness. And I’m sure not going to be the one letting them know any different.”

The tension spills out of Kiki between one sigh and the next. “All right. I’ll believe you.” Water sloshes as she pulls black, knife disappearing beneath the surface. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“Yeah, yeah, or you’ll make sure I do.” Torou rubs a hand over her throat, palm coming away smeared. “Heard it. Now that we’ve got the small talk out of the way, tell me…”

She leans in, smile all mischief. “Where’s tall, dumb and handsome? Gotta say my bed’s been a little cold lately, wouldn’t mind a big guy like that to warm it up for me.”

Shirayuki doesn’t realize she’s gaping until water laps over her teeth, rousing her enough to gasp, “You mean, Mitsuhide?”

“Oh, is that his name? Yeah,” she sighs, wistful. “Mitsuhide. That’d sound all nice wrapped up in a moan, wouldn’t it?”

Kiki folds her arms under chest, mouth twitching. “He’s engaged.”

“That so?” A plucked brows quirks with her grin. “Well, I can work with that. Engaged isn’t married, after all. Wouldn’t be the first guy I’ve had one last hurrah with before he clamps on the old ball and chain.”

There’s a shift in the water, one that starts from where Kiki stands and ripples out; Shirayuki stiffens, sure that she’ll see metal flash and blood drip along its edge, but instead—

Instead, Kiki laughs. Loud enough it echoes off the rafters, filling the whole space like church bells. “I would love,” she hums, “to see you try it.”

*

“You know,” Torou grouses, shoving her head through the collar of her dress. It’s an effort, with all that hair. “That’s when most women bring out the knife.”

“Really?” Kiki shifts back on her hips, utterly casual where she leans against the wall of their room. Dinner steams on the table where the innkeeper’s wife left it: three bowls of stew and hearty bread, though Shirayuki’s the only one who has bothered to sit herself in front of it. “I think it would be entertaining. Haven’t seen him try to climb out of his own skin like that in years.”

Shirayuki could count on her hand the number of times she’d seen Obi blush; whether it was natural inclination or the cast of his skin, she couldn’t say, but his embarrassment almost never showed itself on his cheeks or the tips of his ears, but in the hunch of his back or the set of his jaw. It’s what Torou does now, the sharp angles of her shoulders forming pickets up around her ears.

“So the magic is gone, is it?” Torou mutters into her shoulder, pouting like a scolded child. “Sorry for you princess. Shoulda known that sort of thing never outlasts the happy ending.”

A corner of Kiki’s mouth hooks into a grin so sly Shirayuki finds herself blushing. “Far from it. Just found better things to wrap my hands around.”

Gold flashes, molten and curious, before Torou sashays over to where Kiki leans, hair trailing water where she walked. “Well, maybe if he’s not one to be tempted, you might be…eh, my lady?”

Her purr sets Shirayuki’s skin tingling, but even a hefty application of batting lashes doesn’t move Kiki to more than a snort. “Pass.”

“Ugh.” Torou tosses herself into the nearest chair, ladder back knocking into Shirayuki, setting a small spray of stew across the table. “You really are no fun, Blondie.”

That only hones Kiki’s smile to a point, like the dagger Obi showed her once, meant to slip between armored places. A stilletto, he called it. Viandese. “I’m sure you’ll learn to live with the disappointment.”

Her eyes roll, smooth as coins along cobble. “I’ll never understand what Nanaki saw in the lot of you. Maybe job security or something just as boring. How he didn’t just up and die from the lack of fun, I can’t—”

“Wait!”

It’s not until Torou’s wrist sits clenched between her fingers, pulse fluttering against her fingertips, that Shirayuki even realizes she’s spoken. Her voice is raw where it scraped its way out, hope digging its claws deep into her throat.

He was seen leaving with a woman, my lady. The lamps had carved deeps shadows across Kai’s face, his sweet face grim, but—but—

“Obi,” she gasps. “Is he with you?”

*

There can’t be more than a breath between the ask and the answer, but time bends once her lips wrap around that final rise, running honey-slow, so viscous she swears she can feel it stretch against her skin. Torou’s eyes round, jaw going slack, and oh, there’s time enough for her to count the muscles that contort to make it so, for her to see the words etched in gold before flesh could form them.

“Him?” That narrow wrist breaks her hold as if it were wet paper, cradling against the the valley of Torou’s chest. “No. He’s done with me, he said, and I don’t come crawling to any man, let alone that one.”

“But you’ve seen him.” Her fingers itch to bury themselves in that dress, to hold her only lead in her grasp and simply shake until answers come out. “Recently? If he told you—?”

“That was years ago. You were there. Well” —her head tilts, one way and then the other, indecisive— “in the next room over. After what happened at the manor, he didn’t want me ruining his new gig. Gave me the big kiss off. No actual kisses,” she clarifies, at Kiki’s inquisitive brow. “But you know. It’s been real. Have a nice life. Don’t try to find me or I’ll kill you. That sort of thing.”

Kiki’s mouth twitches. “Touching.”

“But Kai said…” There’s not enough air for her to speak, not at anything more than a whisper. “They had said he left with a woman. If it isn’t you, then…?”

When Torou looks down at her, there is pity in her eyes, so heavy she thinks she would stumble under it, were she on her feet. “I haven’t seen him,” she admits, more gentle than Shirayuki ever thought she could speak. “But I….I think I know someone who has.”

*

My wings take me far and wide, little girl, far and wide, the crow says, a showman among birds. Look at them and you can see how strong they are, how long. Why if you were a grub or a louse or even a little mouse they might blot out the sky when I fly overhead, and you’d feel a little tremble in your knees and a little water in your belly.

She asked, the snowdrop says, its little voice fierce, whether you’d seen her boy.

I’ve been to all sort of places, all sorts. His spindly crow legs pace over the stone, tack-tack-tack, undaunted by the sternness of a small flower. Here, there, and everywhere, more places than you’ve ever heard of, and even more you’ve never dreamed! Well traveled, that’s what I am, little girl, that’s what I am, so if I haven’t seen it, it can’t be anywhere meant to be found.

But my boy, our little girl presses, heart so far up her throat she could have coughed it into her hands. Might have too, if she thought giving it away might help her. You must have seen him too.

I’ve seen all that’s to be seen under the sun, he tells her, but with one great ruffle of his feathers, he deflates. But I haven’t seen a boy like yours.

Hope crumbles in her hands the way ill-baked cakes would, dry and grainy and unpleasant, leaving nothing to her but crumbs and a sandy taste in her mouth. Would that she have never asked, she might have held on to it a while longer, might have trudged on thinking that she could hold him once again, but—

But perhaps, the crow says, a twinkle in his beady eye, I know someone who has.

*

Kiki's face is as still as a death mask, her hand absently reaching at an empty hip. “Who—?”

“How?” Shirayuki doesn’t so much speak the word as it shivers out, so delicate a breath could scuttle it to the four winds. “Where?”

“Tanbarun.” A shoulder lifts, the wide neck of Torou’s dress slipping off it. “In the castle.”

“The castle…?” she echoes. “Why…?”

*

Miss. It’s a puff in the air, a warning that soon Lilias will give up this tenuous summer for autumn. Shirayuki turns anyway, eyes slipping from the burning horizon to trace Obi’s silhouette in the fading light. If this all doesn’t work out…

You mean the Phostyrias? They’re so close now; even in the gloaming, the road to Wirant glimmers, lit as bright as day in the darkest night. Another year and Oriold will shine just the same. I suppose we’d have to go back and look at our notes, see if there’s a more likely hybrid would could pursue. This one appears to be hearty enough, and without any of the orimmalys’s poison, but there were quite a few promising lines to choose from.

Miss. There’s a smile in his voice, as fond as the warmth in her chest that answers it. That’s not what I meant.

Oh. Shadows hang heavy from his brow, clinging close to the curve of his cheekbone, and it makes it harder to see the question in his eyes, to divine just what he’s trying to ask. You mean if the whole project was scuttled?

An uncomfortable possibility to ponder; she’s spent so much of her tenure on coaxing sprouts to grow, on convincing stone and seed to graft, that starting over would be daunting, to say the least.

Well, there’s any number of labs here that might be happy to have an extra set of hands, she allows. Or maybe I might help Yuzuri in the green houses before trying my hand at my own—

That’s not what I meant either. Trust me, Miss, Obi says, entirely too amused. I know you could find work anywhere. The problem is stopping you.

He shifts, the shadows swallowing him until only the shape of him remains. I meant, if this whole thing with Master doesn’t work out. If you do all this and Elder Highness gives you a polite shoo out the window. Where do we go if…?

Her breath catches. You mean if I…?

If she stops being a curiosity, and starts being inconvenient. That’s what he means. If Izana can’t be trusted to keep his word.

Tanbarun. It’s not until she says it that she’s knows it’s true. It’s my…it used to be my home.

He’s silent for a long moment. Well, he snorts, I suppose it’s not like Prince Raj is going to ask you to marry him a second time…

*

“The real question,” Kiki hums, unimpressed, “is what were you doing there?”

Torou lifts her chin, curling a hand beneath it. “I already said I wasn’t. I just know someone who saw him there.”

“You know someone who was in the castle.” It’s not a question, not from Kiki. Oh no, it’s a statement, so full of doubt it nearly drips. “Someone who also just happens to know who Obi looks like. And we’re supposed to…?”

Believe that, she doesn’t say, but the implication hangs heavy enough.

“Hey, my source is legitimate.” A bejeweled hand flutters in the air, pressing tight over Torou’s heart. “He’s supposed to be there.”

One elegant eyebrow arches, matching Kiki’s tone as she asks, “And just how did you come across this…source?”

“Why, he’s my sweetheart,” Torou tells her smugly, both her eyebrows waggling. “One of the prince’s men, works right in the castle. And the last time we had a little rendezvous, he told me that he saw Obi himself, strutting right through the royal hallways without so much as a slouch.”

*

My little crow wife. The crow puffs proudly, as if that were an accomplishment in itself. The little girl didn’t know much about crows and how they lived; perhaps it was. She lives inside the castle’s rookery, the best of His Majesty’s messengers, that’s what they say. No one can fly as high or as fast as my little wife! The king himself asks for her by name.

But what, our little girl rasps, does this have to do with my boy.

Everything, he quarks, because my fast and tidy little wife told me not a week past she saw a boy, just like yours. Dressed as fine as a dandy, sweeping bows and calling to his betters. An impressive sounding boy, one of the finest feather.

But how can that be? Her fingers brush over the snowdrop’s petals. Her boy is a good one, a fine one, that is true, but to think of him in silks and cambric, to think of him with fine manners and a great bearing— a season cannot be enough to wrought such changes. He is no fine knight or lord, he is just my boy.

Are you sure of that? The crow cocks his small head, curious. Surely a boy that belongs to so discerning and worldly a girl would be worthy of prizes and titles aplenty.

The girl frowns at that. She was not so discerning a girl before she was taken in by the sorceress and her garden. She was not so worldly before she traveled so much of it.

Perhaps, the crow muses, he only needed a little polishing. Perhaps— his beady eyes sparkle, full of mischief— he only needed a little push.

A push? Her small mouth purses in a pout. But what could have pushed him?

Are you sure you care to know? the crow asks archly, a sly shine to his clever beak.

I do. They were so happy, after all, with their windows that called across from each other, with their little roses both their hands tended. At least, that is always what the little girl had thought. I do.

Then I can tell you, he says, magnanimous. He has forgotten you for a princess.

*

Rain patters against the glass, a lulling rhythm, if Shirayuki were in any mood to allow herself to be lulled. Instead she twists on her pillow, a groan stifled in the down, thoughts refusing to settle. It’s the most comfortable bed she’s had in weeks, and the softest she’s like to see for many more, and yet, yet—

“There’s a catch,” Kiki grunts, cold and stiff beside her. “There’s always a catch with people like that. She wouldn’t give us what we want for free.”

“But…” Her lips press together, steadying. “It’s the best lead we have.”

The only lead, really, but there’s no need to say it, not when Kiki is already sighing, resigned. “It could lose us days if she’s spinning us some yarn. Weeks, even, if he never even came this way.”

“I’ve already lost us more than that,” she murmurs, barely able to bring her voice louder than a whisper. “The trail’s already gone cold. If only we’d gone last summer, then maybe…”

Maybe we would have a chance. Shirayuki bites her cheek to keep from saying it. Kiki stiffens anyway.

“All right,” she says after a long moment. “It’s up to you.”

Shirayuki stares at the back of her head. “It is?”

“I’ve already not listened to you once.” Kiki shifts, just enough that their eyes meet. “I don’t mean to make the same mistake again. Even if it might lead us on a fool’s errand.”

*

It is hard for us to understand, is it not? To choose to keep our hearts as open as our eyes, to walk willingly into hardship. Would we dare the world to do its worst so soon after feeling its lash? To say, it is not what you do to me that makes me, but what I allow myself to be.

Perhaps that is why stories choose them. Or rather, why we choose to tell their stories. We are so different from these little girls, these children with their hearts on their sleeves and their soft flesh bared to the world. We long to be them once again, to trust in our story—

No, to trust in ourselves. To once again believe that should we fall, we will be able to stand up once again. To accept that, so often, we must be enough, all on our own.

How hard it is to take that leap. How unfair it is that so often, we must.

*

Few decisions are ever made well in the small hours of the morning; there is something about the lack of light that makes desperation run long in the tooth, that makes those few hours until sunrise feel like an hourglass dripping life’s blood. Shirayuki knows this, resolves in those few moments between when the room falls silent and when Kiki’s breath gives way to sleep to wait until morning to choose. But—

But, well, sleep has never come easy. And without Obi…

Ah, she can’t remember the last time she’s had a good night’s rest. Even in the palace, a soft mattress and cool sheets could never calm the racing of her mind.

Her feet swing down to the floor, breath hissing when she finds how the night’s chill has settled into the boards. But still, she stands, pausing only to light a candle before she pads down the hall. It’s quiet there, still in the way the dormitories were when she stumbled back late from the lab, only Obi’s hand on her back to keep her upright. And yet—

Yet she doesn’t hesitate to knock at Torou’s door. It’s possible she could be abed; that’s where she should be, after all. But after an evening of lop-sided smiles and one-shouldered shrugs, Shirayuki doubts that this is where Obi and his friend might differ.

There’s no answer. Still, she tries again. It takes at least three for Obi to answer for a stranger, and if Torou has a special knock to bypass the hassle, Shirayuki hardly knows it.

On her third knock, she simply tries the door. It’s unlocked, opening easy under her hands, and when she steps in—

Ah, there’s a knife at her neck. A sharper one than Kiki keeps.

“Oh,” Torou sighs, slipping in back into her boot. “It’s just you.”

She tromps back to where she’d been sitting, a deck of cards dealt out for two hands. As a daughter of a bar— granddaughter, Obi’s so quick to tease— she knows more than her fair share of games, but this one escapes even her.

“So,” she drawls, picking up a card. “What brings you my way? Must be something for you to slip the leash like that. Hate to think what Blondie’ll do if she finds her little princess has wandered off on her.”

Hurry up, she’s telling her, and oh, she’d had her whole speech planned from the moment she walked in the door, a tidy thing that would lay out expectations. Boundaries. Guidelines. But now—

Now she just shuffles at the threshold, fingers lacing and unraveling as if that might help her string her thoughts together. It, unfortunately, does not. “I…um…”

Torou glances up, incredulous. “You’re not my type,” she reminds her, “so don’t think you can stick around.”

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I’m here for.” Shirayuki clears her throats, letting the vibration order her thoughts. “I just want to…to say…”

*

Will you take me there? the little girl asks. I must see him myself.

It is very easy to ask that, the crow tells her, more gently than he is wont. But it is much harder to do. Are you ready for that— for it to be hard?

The little girl plants her feet, bare on the stony cave floor, and meets that beady gaze. Yes.

*

“Great,” Torou hums, setting her cards aside. “I’ll send word that my sweetheart should expect us. I'm sure" --her smile stretches until it's all teeth-- "that he'll be thrilled.

[deadpresidents]

"This Nation will not cease to irritate and torment you, both with Flattery and Reproach till they force you out, that they may have the pleasure of insulting and abusing you. If you were capable of eternal Taciturnity in Publick, and incessant confidential Correspondence and Secret Intrigue in private, you might Arrive to the height of Reputation of Washington or Franklin, but what is all that worth?"

-- John Adams, to John Quincy Adams, February 19, 1812

[adamstarke]

Adam Starke Connelly | AU Week

Name: Adam Michael Connelly

Age / D.O.B.: 39 years old (February 28, 1984)

Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis male, he/him/his, closeted gay

Hometown: McLean, VA

Affiliation: Government

Job position: U.S. Senator from Virginia (R)

Education: J.D., Harvard University

Relationship status: Married to @anaismurad

Children: Three sons

The change: Adam followed the path his family set out for him

From birth, Adam was raised to be the next step in a fledgling political dynasty, and in this reality, he followed that path. Through a mixture of nepotism, wealth and some legitimate campaigning, he served in the Virginia Legislature and then a few terms in the U.S. House before being elected as a Senator in 2019.

Comfortably in the middle of his first term, Adam has what seems like the picture-perfect white upper-class American life - he has a thriving career, and cemented himself in that upper crust when he married Anais Murad, with whom he has a beautiful family. Three sons, all destined in their grandparents' vision to carry on the Connelly name into American politics and business for another generation.

His biggest secret is the fact that he's miserable, in spite of it all. He has faced it by hardening himself to the world, learning how to play pretend and smile for the cameras but distant behind closed doors. He does love his family, but deep down, it's not the life he wants. Knowing that to come out as a gay Republican senator could jeopardize his reputation in the conservative circles he runs in, he's closeted to all but a close few people in his life.

Bringing his family on vacation to New York while getting a much needed break, he's aware that the act can never stop if anyone can see and so he plays the part of the polished politician.

[yr-obedt-cicero]

Another what-if question:

If Philip lived, and Phildosia happened irl, how would dear old Hammy react to his precious little son getting together with the daughter of one of his enemies? I feel like his reaction to that would be worse than if Philip told him that he too, also likes guys. Actually, how would Ham react to that last part? Sorry, I went off-track. I love your blog btw! Hope you have a nice day!

Oh I love me some Bisexual Philip

Honestly, Hamilton would not be supporting at all. Not just because she is the daughter of his enemy, but because of the political complications. Philip had a career laid out and planned for him by Hamilton, which was, of course, to become a lawyer — but also a political career, where Hamilton would place his legacy in Philip's hands and expect him to fight for their ideals in Hamilton's name after he would retire. And it's clear that Philip was already quite engaged in politics even at the young age of nineteen, as a dispute over the Democratic-Republican, George I. Eacker, disparaging the Federalist Party was the cause to his fatal duel. Philip obviously was already taking his father's side, and was going to be much like his own patriarch; and most likely become a politician besides a lawyer. So with this, it would obviously cause friction for the Federalist family to marry into a Democratic-Republican one — especially if Philip was going to go into politics. And when considering how strict Hamilton was about Philip's future and how vital it was for his legacy ( As Philip was the Hamilton family dynasty ), he would likely not approve of the marriage one bit. And to make matters a bit worse; Philip would likely be defiant and strong-headed enough to rebell against Hamilton and would likely elope with Theodosia since they would be without his consent. Your imagination can run wild about the amount of disputes and strain it would all cause, but I'm sure Hamilton wouldn't be so enraged as to denounce Philip or anything, but he would still be pissed and never forgive him for it.

And yeah, he would be a lot more accepting of Philip's sexual orientation. Hamilton was actually quite supportive towards other queer folk of his day! Even after the war, he still remained in contact with Baron Von Steuben, and just so happened to continuously employe many people who were suspected of sodomy into the Navy, while also probably knowing of Charles Adams's, his apprentice's, relationship with John Mulligan. If Philip had gone and told him or he found out, Hamilton likely would have been accepting — but I'm certain he'd draw a line at a point. Likely learning from his past with Elizabeth and Laurens, he would warn Philip that no matter what; there was no place in the world for marriage between same sex couples ( Especially in politics or aristocratic society ), and he would have to settle down with a wife someday regardless. But other than that, it would most likely be kept a secret between them since there's no confirmation as to what Elizabeth thought of sodomy back in the day.

Thank you, you too!

[antebellumite]

At the end of the day, because I'm a sucker for these plots ( and these dynamics ):

Modern AU where Calhoun, Clay, Jackson, Hayne, and Biddle are all adopted siblings and prospective heirs to the Virginian Dynasty, a multi-industry multinational conglomerate run by the eccentric, famous, well-meaning, and multi-millionaire James Monroe. Monroe, according to public gossip, is planning to retire soon, leaving his behemoth of a company behind to one of his five sons-all of whom are known political enthusiasts ( Monroe himself was adamant about nonpartisanship ). This fact is what draws much of the public's attention to the inheritance of the VD, since depending on just which of the five inherit the VD, certain aspiring politicians may just have received for themselves a very powerful sponsor indeed.

Yet, despite this attention, neither the public nor the potential inheritors themselves know who will end up taking control of the company after Monroe's passing-leaving the five men to duke it out between themselves.

Enter Daniel Webster, an everyday lawyer who through his connections with Hayne, manages to worm his way into this family drama. His goal? Find out the inheritor of the company, latch onto them, and siphon as much wealth out as possible for hightailing out. His original plan was to take advantage of Robert Hayne's easy nature, making sure he inherits the wealth, but as his stay in the family sphere elongates, Webster finds himself uncovering secrets, threats, plots, and more plots under the shiny veneer of normalcy that is the Virginian Dynasty. Beyond just ensuring his true intentions aren't found out, Webster is trying his best to endear himself to everyone in the family-which might be working too much, considering that all of them are now trying to get him on their side. One thing is clear, soon enough, it might not just be his gold-digging tendencies that'll be at risk, but his very life.

Featuring:

James Monroe: The eccentric, high-society, slightly air-headed, optimistic, and utterly filthy rich CEO of the Virginian Dynasty. His aim is to retire in the near future to write a memoir, dote on his family, and pass on his legacy in peace.

Henry Clay: The golden child of the VD, a fantastic lawyer and speaker, known for his Wild Lifestyle, filled with parties ( drinking, dancing, snuff, drugs, gambling, women ) and accusations of corruption and promiscuity, as well as his promising political career. Perhaps the most open about his aims to inherit the corporation, and to many, the most reasonable and expected option.

John C Calhoun: An equally politically prominent figure of the VD, and famously is allying himself with Clay in order to share the VD profits among themselves once they get the money. The somber, cold, humble, puritanical, and serious moon to Clay's flamboyant sun, the two of them make a good team...for now.

Andrew Jackson: Unlike Clay or Calhoun, Jackson's fight to take control of the VD stems from the fact he doesn't trust Clay or Calhoun an inch with the power the VD holds. In fact, as a self-proclaimed champion of the working class, Jackson vows to bring down this corporation once he gets his hands on it, reforming it to better pay and protect employees, remaining bipartisan, etc. As an already established military leader who owns quite a few newspapers himself, he's by far the most widely known and admired of the potential inheritors.

Nicholas Biddle: Perhaps the only one here who actually knows how to run a business to be sustainable, let's face it. But alas. Biddle here is perhaps the heir to the VD with the most conflicting accounts. Just as famous as the others, to many, he is a conniving, corrupt, and sinister figure, aiming to do anything to take control of the corporations for his own aims, even if it means utterly destroying his own siblings in the process. Others say that he is righteous, amiable, bubbly, and kind- some argue, even an idiot who could do nothing of that sort. Some say he is the best option for inheriting the Dynasty, and others say he is the worst. Whatever the case, it won't due to overlook him.

Robert Hayne: To be honest, no one really knows if Hayne even wants to be in the running for the corporation. An idealist, Hayne, like Jackson, believes he can reform the company, but in a way not as extreme as him. Yet from the looks of it, it appears that Hayne would also be more than glad to just let Clay and Calhoun take control of the company instead, if he is granted a subordinate position. Perhaps the least well-known of the successors, he is an associate of Daniel Webster-and a link for getting him involved in the drama.

Daniel Webster: A man with a plan. Webster's an up and rising in popularity and fame lawyer and orator. His intentions were to get into the family to find out who was going to inherit the company, seducing/latching onto that inheritor somehow, and siphoning money out that way. Originally, Webster's target was Hayne, though, due to Hayne's oblivious and idealist nature, it soon became clear that there was no way that he would be inheriting the business. So instead, Webster finds himself playing along with the other potential heirs instead-finding himself attending poetry sessions with Biddle, parties with Clay, intellectual discussions with Calhoun, and military speeches with Jackson, weaving himself closer as a potential ally to all of the heirs, and deeper and deeper into the dramatic events as they unfold.

Martin Van Buren, Thomas Cadwalader, Thomas Benton, Theodore Frelinghuysen, John J. Crittenden: Friends, allies, and bodyguards ( not all at the same time ) of either Jackson, Biddle, Hayne, or Clay. Varying levels of importance.

John Quincy Adams and John Marshall: Advisors to James Monroe, and the guys who're actually running the company. ( Also is this a spoiler? This is a spoiler: JQA is the guy who's actually going to end up inheriting the business. Sorry Clay, Calhoun, Jackson, Biddle, but whilst you all were bickering amongst yourselves, I was already forming diplomatic ties with trustbusters and unions to make sure none of you idiots and demagogues got your hands on this multimedia corporation. )

[castlesrp]

The Montgomery Family

Hades : Oil Tycoons CONTENT WARNING: DRUG ADDICTION, INFERTILITY

The Montgomery family, a bastion of old money and influence in the realm of oil sales, has seen the rise and fall of many financial dynasties and somehow still holds on. Once a shining beacon of wealth and prosperity, it is not without a few stumbles along the way that has led the Montgomery family to lose some of its shine in the higher circles of New York City.

First Montgomery (75) brought the company to greatness and helped solidify the family legacy within oil sales, with his legacy matched only by his wife, the illustrious First Callahan (73), a retired three time Academy Award winning actress. Together they had six children, raising First Montgomery (52) to take over the family business from the moment he was old enough to conceptualize what the oil industry was - but unfortunately he could not handle the pressure and after taking the business over from his father, within two years he faced a tumultuous downfall due to drug addiction. Supported by his resilient wife, First Montgomery (51), he continues to strive for redemption in the eyes of his father, his wife, his two daughters, and the public at large.

The eldest daughter, First Harris-Montgomery (50) took over the mantle as CEO of the company and all of the challenges that come from being a woman in charge of a male dominated industry. Facing her own trials at home with problems of infertility and the overwhelming desire with to be a mother, she and her husband First Harris (51) turned to adoption in the early years of their marriage, raising a son and a daughter now in their twenties. First Montgomery (48) has also made a splash in the headlines, both for his successes in architecture and for his newly public engagement to First Harrington (39), at the urging of his father to try and secure more stability for the family’s ever changing financial and social status.

Behind him are three sisters: First Montgomery (45), a successful political news correspondent, First Montgomery (40), a middle school teacher, and First Montgomery (38), a former prima ballerina turned studio owner and choreographer in New York City. The three daughters have seemingly been able to escape the familial pressure to go into the family business, though it hasn’t been without personal difficulty from their father.

First Montgomery: 75 Years Old, Retired Heir and CEO of Montgomery Oil, Mark Hamill, Available + First Callahan: 73 Years Old, Retired Actress, J. Cameron-Smith, Available

First Montgomery: 52 Years Old, Unemployed, (Disgraced) Former CEO of Montgomery Oil, Jensen Ackles, Available + First Montgomery: 51 Years Old, Open Occupation, Amy Adams, Available ----- First Montgomery, 24 Years Old, Open Occupation, Dove Cameron, Available ----- First Montgomery, 22 Years Old, Open Occupation, Emily Alyn Lind, Available

First Harris-Montgomery: 50 Years Old, CEO of Montgomery Oil, Rose Byrne, Available + First Harris: 51 Years Old, Open Occupation, John Cho, Available ----- First Harris: 25 Years Old, Open Occupation, Noah Centineo, Available * ----- First Harris: 22 Years Old, Open Occupation, Olivia Rodrigo, Available * * Note: Harris (25) and Harris (22) are both adopted.

First Montgomery: 48 Years Old, Architect, James McAvoy, Available * * Note: Montgomery (48) is engaged to Harrington (39)

Alyson Montgomery: 45 Years Old, Political News Correspondent, Sophia Bush, Played by Trav

First Montgomery: 40 Years Old, Middle School Teacher, Anna Kendrick, Available

First Montgomery: 38 Years Old, Ex Prima Ballerina, Choreographer/Studio Owner, Phoebe Tonkin, Played by Evy