#Do they talk about it like he’s some tragic fairy tale prince

[raionmimi]

Another day, another overbearing PruksaManee family headcanon

Ever since she graduated, when Symmetra goes to random places outside of Vishkar, she often finds that Niran’s family has made arrangements for her to be taken care of already. Even if she thinks it’s a bit of a hassle to this day

Like she could go to a hotel for a work assignment. There is a very high chance they ensured she will have an exclusive suite under “Ms. Vaswani-PruksaManee.” Or she goes to a department store, and suddenly she has a personal shopper helping her pick out her clothes with material she likes. She arrives at a restaurant, and they already make her the foods she likes that might not even on their menu.

She’s so used to them being pushy and throwing their money around as a way of showing their love, but she’s still thinking “these damn rich people…” (affectionate) anytime they go overboard over silly things.

Just living a “my in-laws are obsessed with me” lifestyle no matter. They laugh it off whenever she insists there must be something better they could be using their wealth on because what else is better than their favorite daughter/sister-in-law (they suddenly can’t hear when she reminds them she never married Niran either.)

Sometimes, there’s rumors in the media that the eldest PruksaManee’s son had a fiancé before he went “astray,” but there’s never any pictures of her for some reason. Any possible lead is always mysteriously taken down and replaced with a different story.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi! Can I request some Genderbend Sleeping Beauty x Isekai Reader? (Please no princess reader I've seem them everywhere on qoutev)

Yandere Genderbend Sleeping Beauty x Iseakai'd Reader

Tending to a human man the moment you’d been dropped into this alternate world was not the ideal position. Originally being instated in the castle as a charity-case servant you hadn’t made any connection to the fairy tale. Not until the head butler brought you to a familiar trio of faeries; dressed in blue, green, and red. 

“My my their magical signature is quite–”

“Bizarre?”

“Unique?”

“--I was going to say, perfect for the worst-case scenario.”

Supposedly because of your outlier existence, the faeries had designated you to be their human help. Should the prince–Briar Rue fall into the curse of the spindling wheel he’d need constant care. It was a contingency plan, a tragic plan to set everyone in the kingdom to rest until the princess would return to save him with her kiss. Unlike the kingdom, the prince’s curse was cruel: continuing to let his bodily functions continue as he slept away. 

“It’s just in case.” 

“Yes, not likely at all.”

“--All because it just doesn’t work on you.”

“Mariwether!” “Mariwether!”

“Sorry, forget that I said that please!” 

That was why in the span of a week you were meeting and serving the cursed prince that had spent the entirety of his life in a forest. A position that would have many of the staff sneering at you as waited on the prince’s hand and foot.

“All of this is so overwhelming (Y/n)...I don’t want to marry a girl I haven’t met. Even when I’m so madly in love with another.”

The prince was doing an iconic Disney Princess mope, leaning against the barred windows of his room in the castle. You continued to fold away his forest attire, smiling to yourself as you replayed the animated version of the fairytale. 

“Well I have a feeling you’ll meet her sooner than you may think.”

He turned his sorrowful gaze to you, tilting his head at your ominous smile. He questioned you no further, opting to conversate with you about the ‘modern’ nuances of popular society. Which you were just as uninformed about as him. Needless to say, the both of you were on something of a learning curve, relying on the staff and fairies to fill the both of you in. 

Two days. 

Two days ago he was learning alongside you how to waltz. The day you were dismissed it was in an explosion of emotion. A reaction of his overwhelmed self in this stressful environment; had you sent away and retiring early. Living in such a hierarchy was new to you and your knowledge of the future meant nothing at the intensity of his order. That being said you didn’t blame yourself when the fairies arrived at you, heads hanging low with tears in their eyes. 

____________________________________________________________

As agreed upon you had begun your caretaking duties of the prince. Waking every morning to wash, dress, change his magic feeding trey, and placing the medieval equivalent of a diaper as the day forged on. Whether you are familiar with the task of caring for someone so intensely it soon becomes a habit for you. Becoming a part of a mundane routine for yourself. Care for the prince, have breakfast, read some outdated literature, and repeat. After the first couple of days, you got quite used to the hollow echoing chamber of an otherwise empty castle. Minding the unconscious staff and royal families; it was bliss. 

While you certainly had the time to teach yourself the rules and etiquette of the time, this couldn’t have been the healthiest way to go about it. Without the commentary or viable presence of others, you had begun to speak out loud. Talking to sleeping bodies and non-sentient objects had become you’re normal for the following month. A commonality of that time was being freaked out when any of the fairies decided to make themselves young; they were considerate usually catching your attention in a flurry of sparkles. A fair warning, for whenever they came to grieve.

Towards the end of the month, their visits had a different tune; singing their praises of the princess who was fighting the malignant Sorcerer king. As evident by the distant roars and green swirling sky, this would be over soon. 

“I-I am here to kiss the prince!” 

She came to the castle frazzled, wounded, and on shaky legs. You adamantly refused, practically fighting her to eat and let you treat her wounds. In fact, it was similar to how you had been treating the prince for the past couple of months. Shouldering most of her weight as you bathed and dressed her; a process that only seemed to embarrass you. You figured as a princess this might’ve not been so out of the ordinary making it easier for you to send her to sleep. After all that you scrambled to do the same to Briar, and with a sense of finality you carried out your routine. 

Cheering to the sleeping Briar, “What do you think of that Sleeping Beau? Your beauty is here and we’ll both be free!” 

Waking the next day you finally cooked for someone else, watching as the princess scarfed down her meal only to shake at the door of Briar’s tower. Having full intentions to give them their space, you were shocked by the forceful grip on your apron. 

“D-do you think it’ll work?”

“Of course, I do, your grace! I’m sure you will recognize that he’s someone you’ll enjoy kissing awake. Now if–”

“You have to come with me!”

“W-what!? H-hey!” 

Without heeding your struggle, she curled her arm around your torso easily hoisting you up along with her as she speedily ascended the tower to the sleeping Briar Rue. It was oddly easy for her to bring you to the room the prince was sleeping in. Leaving you in shock as she began to fiddle with her cape and kilted armor. 

“M-maybe i-if I take M-mom’s idea I’ll b-be m-more confident to kiss him!”

“Ah what was your mother’s idea?”

“....”

She went silent at your question; returning your curiosity with a blank stare before shaking her head. Scratching at the back of her head she mumbled to herself before anxiously gripping the handle.

“I–i’ll just wait until h-he’s awake then.”

“W-what?”

“A-anyway do you really think I can do this?”

“O-of course.”

Her nervous demeanor was grating on your nerves, probably because you were more than minutes away from seeing this whole debacle being solved. After minutes of deliberation the princess opened the doubled doors revealing the hauntingly beautiful image of the sleeping beau. She made an audible gasp at the sight. 

Shining in the angled light of the setting sun, the stained glass windows of his temporary chamber flashed the mosaic of colors across the sleeping prince. Blonde flowy hair splayed out around his crowned head. His face was still, cheeks oddly rosy and lips perfectly puckered with their own touch of red. He looked ethereal and you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Whether or not you were familiar with makeup in the modern world, this world wasn’t particularly fond of the attractiveness of healthy color. But judging by her continued awe the smashed berries you got were a good idea. 

“Whoa he’s the fellow from the forest…” She marveled at him tentatively rubbing at his folded hands. She bent forward slowly, lips slowly inching forward before she abruptly pulled away turning from the one act that would end this all. Her worried eyes darted around before falling on you widening with an idea. 

“H-h-how about we do this together?”

“Excuse me, what?!” 

“Like we both kiss him at the same time s-so that I-I won’t be l-lonely when I do this!”

“What! Why do you want me–a servant of all things to kiss the prince with you?”

It was a viable question; unless she felt threatened by you. But knowing the princess it would be for something less daunting—

“B-b-because! This is my first time k-kissing a prince!” 

You shook your head in disbelief but relented when she puckered her bottom lip at you; making the equivalent of prayer hands with her face. You entered the chamber gazing at the both of them before walking around the bed to his lower right side. 

“How about this Princess, I’ll kiss his hand and you will kiss his lips though I’m certain it is absolutely unnecessary.” 

“Alright! W-we er I can do this.”

With newfound confidence, she positioned herself near his face on the left side of the bed. She looked back at you while making sure you were also in position. To which you nodded urging her to go on. 

You originally weren’t going to follow through, faking your involvement but even as she went in for the kiss you still found her gaze flashing toward you. So you followed through lightly pecking the back of his hand, standing up you got to catch a glimpse of the magical moment. Pulling away from the waking prince she nervously peeked with one eye as Briar blinked his own eyes.

“Y-you? From the forest and…”

He looked to the right, blue eyes landing on you or they would have been if the three fairies hadn’t taken your place near the bed. 

“Oh, Rue!”

“You’re awake!”

“Yes but–”

“We must awaken the whole kingdom! We must celebrate!”

Any concerns the awoken prince would have had were brought to a hush under the cheers of the fairies and the castle’s jovial celebration. Their prince, to the kingdom’s knowledge, had survived the curse and was reunited with his love: Princess Phyllis of the neighboring kingdom. 

______________________________________________________________

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for the wedding?”

“No no I think I’m ready for…the quiet once again.”

“Surely Rue would be happy to see you on his big day!”

“Yes! Yes! I can conjure up something for you! In blue of course.”

“Yuck, that’d be a crime! Obviously in red!” 

“Now here you go again–!” “Why I oughta–”

You stepped away from the bickering faeries, continuing to hug the fae in green. 

“Thanks again for letting me have that cottage, Floran. I really appreciate it.”

He shifted his glasses, magicking a basket full of food into your hands after you hurriedly adjusted your pack’s strap. 

“Deary it’s of no trouble, after all. We have no reason to use such a lovely space. And I’m sure it’ll offer you the quiet you’ve grown so used to.” 

He smiled wiping away imaginary dust on your shoulder as he held your upper arm.

“Just be weary, you know we won’t stay away forever now. We’ll be sure to visit.”

“And when you do I’ll be glad to welcome you.”

You both shared a laugh as you had begun to walk to the mule you were discreetly gifted by the royal family. It was decided that you’d be released from your duties both at your own request and at the faeries' discretion. With vague compliments, the royal family could quietly thank you for your mysterious role in ‘solving’ their Prince’s curse. Phyllis was adamant, as she could be, about thanking you but the fairies were stern about keeping quiet. During this time you found no time to speak or so much as look at Briar without it being from the perspective of a bystander by a passing celebrity. You didn’t mind. And it most certainly didn’t stop you from letting the mule lead you to the cottage Briar Rue had hidden in before, more than willing to enjoy the silence and relaxation of the cottage life. 

_________________________________________________________

Briar fought the urge to yell as Phyllis went into another tirade about her adventure. Sat near the window of the seamstress’ tower as she was fitted for her wedding gown. An event she and his parents eagerly insisted he attended. It was a brazen attempt to make them get along despite the obvious lack of interest on his side of things. 

“B-briar? Er-Rue? D-did y-you hear the l-last thing I said? A-about the d-dragon and the w-wounds I got? I-it’s kind of crazy y-you know b-because when I finally got to the c-castle–”

How did this wake him up?! 

It couldn’t have. He knows it. The nights he’s spent hearing warbled words and grunts didn’t make his heart pound for her. Or the warm touches along his chest and arms, they were evidence of someone else. But no matter how much he wracked his brain the thought of who remained a mystery. 

Faun assured him it was a small side effect, that the cloudiness of waking up was sure to hover over his consciousness for the next week. That was why he got tired every time he tried to recall the time before his cursed sleep. 

“B-briar? A-are–d-do you h-have any questions a-about that day?”

“No Phyllis I’m just trying to remember…”

“Oh okay. S-so, as I was saying (Y/n), was there and th-”

That’s what it was! That’s who it was!

The piece he’s been missing: the memories of the week before. His heart, straying from his so-called love for the mysterious woman in the forest to the clumsy handmaid. He remembered cursing himself and then cursing at (Y/n), sending them away while ignoring the pain in his chest. What could it be, to so quickly change the object of his affection? Was it a problem that when he thought of love all he could see was their face? And even if he was truly devoting his love to (Y/n) instead of the mystery maiden, who turned out to be Phyllis the princess, then what could he do? As a prince himself, he would have no choice but to abandon you in worry that his royal family would reject you for the nobility’s standards; if not for their own biases. It was an endless cycle of heartbreak that had no end. 

When the dark sorcerer’s curse came about, he was entirely lucid. Only refusing to follow the green foreboding glow to stew in his own grief. Audibly sighing at the entrancing orb, he only raised his head when the orb transformed into a figure.

“Come child, it is your time.”

“How can it be my time when all is so helpless.” 

He tucked his head into his folded arms, hiding his sniffles and bubbling tears as they fell onto the table below. Missing the smile that spread over the sorcerer’s face as he feigned a giddy pity as he patted the prince’s back. 

“There there, the faeries spoke of a true love’s kiss. Now I’m sure that you’ve found someone you love?”

The question was rhetoric, the sorcerer was well aware of his rendezvous with the princess in the woods. The sorcerer was certain of this, and it brought a greater smile to his face that he had already acted on this. 

“Y-yes…but–well–I’m not sure if it's true love! Since it’s changed so much…” 

Feigned sympathetic pats on Briar’s back, allowed the fireplace to morph. Lined in green flames a portal opened opening to the tallest tower within the castle where a new glowing orb waited patiently. 

“Now young Briar, the only way to know would be the ultimate test would it not?”

He sniffled, “What do you mean?” 

“What better test for you’re love than sleep that can only be broken by true love? Do you not want a method that is tried and true?”

“Tried and True?”

“Yes.”

Giving into the trance the prince rose from his seat, guided by the hand of the one who cursed him. Settled behind his back as he nudged him into the portal and in the direction of the green light. Aware of his curse he followed dutifully, wiping his tears and rubbing his dribbling nose. He came to the orb that materialized into a glowing spinning wheel, needle piked and practically begging for his puncture. Briar reached forward stopping just a hair’s length away to turn to the sorcerer who was growing agitated. Face full of worry and trepidation he pleaded with the horned man. 

“H-how will I know that the one who wakes me is the right one? What should happen if the one who stands above me when I wake is the one? There are those who might trick me or–” “Fine then.” 

The sorcerer’s voice boomed as he stepped heavily towards him, chest to Briar’s face he held a green flame in his hand. Blue eyes snapped to the flame registering the sound of a snap before the sorcerer pulled away. 

“I’ll let you hear everything.”

He opened his mouth to question the action, stopping to let out a scream as his ears burned. He stumbled to the side, nearly falling to the ground as he clutched at his ears groaning from the pain. The sorcerer groaned pulling a hand from the side of Briar’s face in the direction of the wheel. Pinpricking his finger, releasing the hand as the prince retracted his hand inspecting the wound. Eyelids drooping and knees buckling before sending Prince Briar Rue into the beginning of his eternal slumber. 

“There dearest Rue, you can hear everything. Even the cries and pleas of all those who come to mourn you by your bedside! I applaud you for your creativity, suffering for eternity will surely bring you an even crueler existence than I would have given! Hahaha.”

He was right. It was cruel to remember having doubted (Y/n) as they cared for him. It was they who had read to him and spoken to him while he was trapped in an uneasy slumber for the entirety of thirty days and thirty nights. Now he was meant to marry the mere attraction of his past, it was truly a nightmare. The only solace he could find was in their servitude. If he couldn’t have them in the way of a lover he’d have them in the way of a king. It sounded cruel but surely that was just because the thought was in his head.

It would all make sense the night before the wedding when he’d call them after the dreaded bachelor party. He’d confess his love within the solace of the private garden he’d been gifted, taking them under the moonlight and the stars as his witness. Oh, how he’d dread the morning! When he would have to repeat such false vows as he betrayed them one time last. But that would be the end of it, the rest of himself would be dedicated to (Y/n) and (Y/n) only. 

Or that would be if that wasn’t who he thought it was in the window—

“H-hey! T-that looks like (Y/n) r-riding on that donkey! Doesn’t it Briar?”

Rendered speechless at the sight of your riding form disappearing into the bustling capital city. He could only stifle a fit of frustration as he recognized the familiar trio of red, blue, and green. Post haste he attempted to leave the room stopped by the hand, and following consequences written all over Phyllis’ face. He’d wait for now but when he was done…they’d surely be hearing from the angered and fully awoken prince.

[foundtherightwords]

As the Sun Will Rise - Chapter 2

Pairing: Grunauer (Overlord) x OFC, Beauty & the Beast retelling

Summary: After losing most of his unit in a disastrous D-Day mission, Derwin Grunauer returns to his hometown near Miami, body riddled with scars and heart heavy with guilt, only to find his neighbors shunning him due to his German name. He retreats into his family mansion and remains there, unwilling to rejoin the living, until the day Alba Reyes turns up at his door with a basket full of warm bread. As the daughter of a Cuban immigrant, Alba knows something of being an outsider, and when she offers to work for Derwin as his housekeeper, it is not only to pay off her father's debt to the Grunauers, but also because she feels some connection to the reclusive young man. When that connection develops into something more, they must overcome both the town's prejudice and their own doubts to find happiness.

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter word count: 4.5k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

"You went inside?" Beatriz asked as she flipped the sign in the bakery window from OPEN to CLOSED, before continuing sweeping the floor. In the back, Papi and Frank were setting out the dough for the next morning's loaves to rise. Alba surveyed the glass cases, making a mental note of what sold well and what didn't, and put the leftovers aside to be sold at cut rate the next day. Beatriz had been bursting with questions about the Grunauer place, but Alba had had no time to answer them—it was the lunch rush by the time she got back; she hadn't wanted to talk in front of Papi, and the afternoon had been quite busy as well. It was only now, at closing time, that she finally told Beatriz of what—and who—she'd found at the mansion deep in the swamp.

"Of course I went inside," she said. "I couldn't just leave the bread there!"

"Papi and Frank do."

"They have no respect for their own products."

"What's it like?" Beatriz said, eagerly. "Is it scary? Did you see any snakes or gators?"

"No, there's no snakes or gators. Just a big, friendly dog, and lots of empty rooms and a big staircase. I didn't see the second floor though." Alba couldn't find the words to describe to Beatriz how she'd really felt, walking down the corridor of the Grunauer place. The rooms she'd seen were filled with furniture, but they all had an air of disuse and neglect like the outside of the house. It had made her feel incredibly sad. The house was not a queen, as she'd first thought upon seeing it. It was a woman past her prime, alone and forgotten.

When she came into the kitchen, she'd felt even sadder. The stove looked like it never got lit, the pantry was empty, and so was the fridge—it contained only a pot of mustard and, inexplicably, a book.

She wondered how young Mr. Grunauer had managed to feed himself, and whether the bread and pastries they sent were his only sustenance.

"And what about Gruesome Grunauer?" continued Beatriz. "Is he really disfigured as people say?"

"Don't call him that. No, he's not. He does have a scar on his face, but it's not that bad." The moment they came face-to-face, all she could see were those bewilderingly familiar eyes. She had barely paid attention to the scar stretching across his left cheek like a spider web, and if she had, it was only to notice how it contrasted sadly with his boyish face, giving him a tragic look, like a cursed prince in a fairy tale. He had a scraggly beard too, though it was a pitiful attempt to cover up the scar or simply due to the neglect to shave, she didn't know. For some reason, the memory made her feel a little shy, so she didn't mention it to Beatriz.

Later that night, after Beatriz had gone to bed in their tiny bedroom in their tiny apartment above the bakery, Alba found her father sitting in his tattered armchair in the front space that doubled as the living room and dining room, smoking his pipe. She knew sometimes he would remain there all night, never making it to bed, just puffing on his pipe in silence and watching the smoke curl around the photos of her mother and Raf. Then, as the clock chimed four, he would get up with a little groan and go downstairs to start the ovens.

Seeing her linger at the door, he looked up. "Why aren't you in bed?" he asked.

Alba sat down on the armrest. "Papi, how much do we owe the Grunauers?" she asked.

Her father stopped puffing on the pipe. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Yes, I do. I'm twenty-four years old, Papi. I'm not a child anymore."

"I'm taking care of it."

Alba wrapped her arms around him, and put her head on his shoulder, as she'd often done when she was a little girl. "I want to help," she said. "How am I supposed to take over the bakery if you won't let me help?"

Papi sighed. "All right, we owe three thousand, if you must know. I borrowed seven thousand from Dr. Grunauer. Five years to pay it off, no interest. He was very kind for that. It was to buy the land, build the bakery, stock it. When the shop fell through, I only got four thousand back for everything." He ran a hand through his sparse, graying hair. "I was a fool. I should've held on to that land. If I sold it now to one of those returning GIs, we could've easily paid it off. But after Rafael—and your mother—I wasn't thinking straight."

"I know, Papi, I know." Alba pressed her lips to his temple, trying to kiss away the memory of that terrible time. They hadn't even been able to celebrate the end of the war. That had been the cruelest thing. When the whole world had been rejoicing, all they could think about was that the war had taken not only Raf but Ana as well. She'd collapsed upon seeing the two officers in their front room and never regained consciousness after that. She'd died just a week before VE-Day.

Three thousand dollars. The bakery earned about that much in a year, which meant they would have to forgo all expenses and not have any salary for a year, if they were to pay off the debt. Alba didn't mind—she'd never taken any pay for working at the bakery anyway—but it wouldn't be fair to Frank and Beatriz.

"We need a concrete plan to pay it off, Papi," she said. "The bakery can't turn a profit until we do, and we can't keep plying Mr. Grunauer with bread and pastries twice a week and hope the debt will magically go away. How many loaves of bread, how many boxes of pastries and croquettes is it going to take?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"I've been to their house today. It's a big place, and Mr. Grunauer's there all alone. He needs someone to take care of it, a housekeeper." The idea had formed in her mind while she stood looking around that forlorn, empty kitchen, where the only thing that qualified as foodstuff was a bag of dog biscuits. "I think I can—"

Papi sat up straight and took the pipe out of his mouth. "No daughter of mine is going to be a servant," he said sternly.

"I won't be a servant," said Alba. "I'm going to be a housekeeper. It's no different than working in a hotel. He can pay me, or I can just work off the debt."

"But what about the bakery?" Papi asked, as she knew he would. She had an answer ready.

"Frank and Beatriz can do without me," she said. "Really, Papi, Beatriz is much better at it than you give her credit for. The customers are always happier and buy more when she's at the till."

Papi still looked skeptical, but Alba knew she was starting to win him over. "May I have your permission to at least talk to Mr. Grunauer about it?" she asked.

"What if the boy refuses?"

"Then we'll think of something else," she said stoutly.

Papi tapped the pipe into the ashtray, looking thoughtful. Finally, he nodded. "Yes, I suppose you can talk to Dr. Grunauer's son about it. The worst he can do is to turn us down."

Alba jumped up. "Thank you, Papi!"

"But I hate for you to bear this burden alone, daughter."

"It's not a burden, Papi," she said and gave him another kiss on the temple. "This is our bakery. I'm only doing my bit."

"Yes. Now get to bed, we have an early start tomorrow," he said, as if they didn't have an early start every single day, and patted her cheek affectionately.

***

The next morning, Alba got ready before Grant Gastin had a chance to show up. She packed some more pasteles, filled with guava and coconut, two loaves of fresh bread, some sliced ham and cheese, and a jar of pickles. Remembering the empty fridge with its lonely pot of mustard, she went back to the fridge and cut a big pat of butter as well. She was wrapping it in a square of wax paper when Frank came up to her.

"Mr. Reyes asked me to drive you over to the Grunauer place," he said. Despite having known them for seven years and repeated requests from Papi to call him by his first name, Frank still couldn't manage it. They treated him as family though. He'd started working at the bakery at fifteen, trained by Ana herself. He'd enlisted at the same time as Rafael, and they had prayed for his safe return as fervently as they'd prayed for Raf. At least with Frank, their prayer had been heard. After the war, he'd come back to the bakery, for which they were grateful. Being half-Seminole, Frank didn't exactly benefit from the GI Bill.

"Thank you, Frank, but I can manage," Alba said. "Why don't you help Beatriz at the front?"

A flush crept over Frank's open, honest face. Alba knew he'd been carrying a torch for her sister for years now, though Beatriz had never given him much thought. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. Go on, spend some time with her, or she'll waste it all on the likes of Grant Gastin." She gave him a friendly shove and went around the back for her bike.

The day was warm, and despite the coolness of the swamp, Alba was drenched in sweat and her hair was frizzing like crazy by the time she arrived at the Grunauer place. She knocked on the front door. When there was no answer as usual, she tried the handle. It was locked.

Her heart sank. Could it be that young Mr. Grunauer was annoyed by her last visit and wanted to prevent another? Surely, she hadn't been that pushy, had she? Or—her stomach dropped with a horrible possibility—could something have happened to him? She banged on the door again.  

"Mr. Grunauer? Hello? It's Alba, from the bakery. I brought you some things—hello?"

A dark shape reared up behind the glass, making her jump back in shock. Then she saw that it was the dog, his mouth wide open, tongue lolling in a cheerful smile. "Hola," Alba said, waving at him. "Can you get your master for me? Or can you open the door?"

The dog disappeared from the front door. Pressing her nose against the glass pane, Alba saw that he was pacing into the depths of the house and kept looking back, as if beckoning for her to follow. She picked up the basket and went around the back of the house. The porch here was covered with mosquito netting, forming a sunroom that looked out on an overgrown garden and the dark swamp beyond. A fan hung from the ceiling, its blade rotating lazily in the warm air.

The dog came out from inside the house. He stood on his hind legs and pushed at the latch of the door, lifting it. Alba laughed, delighted at his maneuver. The moment the door was open, the dog bounced through and started licking her hand, his tail rotating in greeting.

"What a clever sausage you are," she said, rubbing his ears while lingering at the door. Wouldn't Mr. Grunauer see this as trespassing?

Seeing her hesitate, the dog tugged at her wrist and pulled her deeper into the house. She hurried after him, barely having time to drop her basket in the kitchen. The dog led her down the corridor, into a library or study of sorts. It was gloomy and cluttered as the rest of the house, but this clutter was the result of living, rather than neglect—books were piled on tables and on the floor alongside dirty dishes, clothes were strewn haphazardly on the backs and arms of chairs, blankets and pillows heaped on the couch. It appeared Mr. Grunauer had been camping in this room and abandoned the rest of the house.

As Alba stepped further into the room, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness and landed on a figure lying prone on the rug by the window.

"¡Dios mío!" She rushed over to turn him on his back. "Mr. Grunauer! Are you all right?"

To her surprise, he wriggled out of her grasp and propped himself up on his elbow. "I am, as soon as you stop manhandling me!" he said, blinking up at her with what she was coming to recognize as his default expression—a scowl. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

Alba became acutely aware of her sweaty face and disheveled hair. Self-consciously, she yanked her headscarf off and wiped it across her forehead.

"Your dog let me in," she said.

"My dog?" he repeated, incredulous. He glared at the dog, who was looking quite pleased with himself. "Some guard dog you are," he muttered. The dog, either used to his master's dark moods or simply not noticing it, wagged his tail happily and began nosing about the dirty dishes on the floor, searching for crumbs. There was not much there, save for a few remnants of days-old crackers, eggshells, and orange peels. Not an actual meal, just an assortment of food.

"Please don't yell at him," she said, fighting the urge to clean up those plates. "It's my fault, really. I asked him to get the door for me."

Grunauer shook his head, looking amused. "Yell at Otto? I spoke too loudly to him once and he sulked for two days. I don't think you have to worry about me yelling at him, Miss—"

"Reyes. Alba Reyes."

"Ah, yes. From the bakery." So he did remember. He got to his feet, with some difficulty, and vaguely tried to tidy up some papers but quickly put them down again. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually, it's more about what I can do for you, Mr. Grunauer." Alba launched into her prepared speech. "Perhaps you already knew, my father owes your father quite a bit of money. Three thousand dollars, to be exact. He's supposed to pay it off by the end of next year." Grunauer's slight frown suggested that this was news to him, and Alba wondered if she'd made a blunder in mentioning the debt. But he would learn of it sooner or later, and she didn't want to deceive him. "Now, we can't pay it all at once, but perhaps we can work out some sort of payment plan..."

He nodded slowly, still looking a bit confused. Alba plunged on. "This is a big place. You need help. I can come here and work for you as a housekeeper, and, in exchange, you can deduct the payment from my salary."

Understanding dawned on his face, quickly followed by something else—embarrassment? Discomfort? Anger? Perhaps he thought they were trying to scam him.

"You will decide my salary, of course," she said quickly. "Perhaps I can try, for a week or so, and you can figure out how much to pay me? We can have a lawyer draw up a promissory note, everything will be perfectly aboveboard—"

"Miss Reyes," he interrupted. "I don't need help."

She deflated. But a Reyes never gave up that easily, so she put on a display that combined her most competent face with an approximation of Beatriz's charm. "Sure you do," she said, trying to smile. "I can cook, clean, do the shopping for you, take care of Otto..." At the sound of his name, the dog looked up and gave his tail a wag.

Grunauer shook his head, cutting her off. "I can't pay you."

"You don't have to pay me, that's the point," Alba said patiently. "Let's say we agree that my work is worth thirty dollars a week"—big hotels in Miami Beach were paying housekeepers forty and fifty dollars a week, so she figured thirty would be a reasonable start—"so every week, you'll deduct thirty dollars from our debt." At that rate, it would take two years for her to pay off three thousand dollars, but the bakery and its earnings would be safe. And it would make her feel like she was doing something, which Alba vastly preferred to just sitting and waiting for the debt collector to show up.

When Grunauer made no reply, she tried another tactic. "This is a fine house, Mr. Grunauer. Don't you want it cleaned and put to order, so you can use all the rooms instead of holing up in here?"

"I'm perfectly fine as I am, thank you very much," he said stiffly.

Alba let out an exasperated sigh. "Mr. Grunauer, no offense, but I've met you twice, and both times I found you on the floor."

It was the wrong thing to say. Grunauer's face twisted, the gouges of the scar deepening on his cheek. "I'm not a cripple!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant—" began Alba, but it was too late. He grabbed her arm, not hard, but not gently either, and hauled her out of the room.

"Thank you for your concern, Miss Reyes, but I cannot afford a housekeeper at the moment," he said.

"But—Mr. Grunauer—" Alba started to protest, without knowing what she was going to say.

Something on her face must have made him take pity on her, for he added, in a softer voice, "As for your debt, I'll see if we can come up with a reasonable payment plan. I'll let you know." He all but shoved her into the corridor and shut the door in her face.

Alba spluttered in frustration. She had no choice but to leave. Coming back through the kitchen, she saw her basket still on the table and heaved a long sigh. Well, she might as well unpack the food. If she left it there, who knew what Grunauer would do? Eat it straight out of the basket, she supposed.

She put the perishables into the fridge. The book was still there, a book of poetry by someone named e.e. cummings—Alba briefly wondered what Mr. Cummings had against capitalization— but the guava pastries were gone. And then, as her eyes landed on the pot of mustard, an idea occurred to her. If she couldn't convince him with words, perhaps there was another way...

She took a loaf of bread out of the box, sliced it, slathered both halves with butter and mustard, and layered it with the ham, cheese, and pickles. There was no sandwich press, but she found a frying pan and a heavy cast-iron pot that would do the trick. The stove looked so rusty that she was afraid it wouldn't turn on at all, but turn on it did, and soon the enticing smells of melted butter and cheese were filling the kitchen. She cut the warm sandwich in half, put it on a plate, and marched down the corridor again.

"What are you still doing here?!" Grunauer snarled as he wrenched open the door in response to her knock. "Leave, or I'll have you arrested for—" He stopped short at the sight of the plate in her hand.

"Tell me, Mr. Grunauer, would you rather be eating something like this or subsist on crackers and day-old coffee? Because this is what you'd get with me, and more. Think about it. You know where to find me. Good day." She shoved the plate into his hand, turned on her heel, and left.

***

Long after Miss Reyes's dark curls had disappeared down the corridor, bobbing indignantly with each of her steps, Derwin still stood where he was, with the plate of sandwich in his hand. He wasn't quite sure what had just transpired. And then, because the smell was so tempting, and because Otto was eyeing the plate rather impatiently, Derwin ate the sandwich. It was very good. She'd toasted it on both sides, turning the bread crisp and melting the cheese. It reminded him of the grilled cheese sandwiches his father used to make when Derwin was little, only better. Poor old Dad. After Mom passed away, Dad had tried his best, but he could never quite manage the stove, and when Derwin was home from boarding school, they'd survived mostly on sandwiches and canned stuff. Grilled cheese and tomato soup was one of Dad's better attempts at cooking.

Once the plate was polished off—Otto got the last bite, of course—Derwin went to the bureau where his father's papers were kept and started digging through the drawers. Soon he found a promissory note for seven thousand dollars, made to a Mr. Mauricio Reyes, on March 1943, with a maturity date of five years and no interest. A very generous loan. But then again, his father had always been generous to a fault. Another note attached to this document stated that a payment of four thousand dollars had been made in November 1945. His father had passed away a month after that, while Derwin himself was still in Bay Pines.

Three thousand dollars. Enough for him to start over somewhere else, away from this place. He could go back to school, finish that degree he'd put on hold when he enlisted, get a job. Actually rejoin the living.

But deep down inside, Derwin knew there was nowhere for him to go. There was no place where he could stop seeing the screaming faces of his fellow soldiers whenever he closed his eyes, stop feeling the heat of that exploding C-47, stop smelling the stench of burning fuel and gunpowder and blood in that French village just off the coast of Normandy. During the day, he could forget those memories by losing himself in books, but at night, they always came back in full force. There was no place where he could escape them. No place where he could escape himself.

At least here, nobody would bother him. Nobody, except for a bewildering, maddening young woman.

So if he insisted on staying here, would it be so bad to have someone come here and take care of the house for him? He had to admit, he'd let things go. His leg didn't allow him to move around much, and after a while, he no longer cared. He'd been going upstairs only to sleep, and after his latest fall the day before, he'd set up camp in the study and decided it was good enough. But now, stung by Miss Reyes's words, Derwin looked around the room and noticed, for the first time, the clutter and squalor of the place. How did he let it come to this? He was sure he could see a cockroach shuffling amongst the plates on the floor.

But the idea of another person in the house, in his space, gave him pause. His parents had been a retiring sort, and when he was a boy, it had been just the three of them. He'd missed that precious solitude when his mother died and his father sent him to boarding school. In the army, and later, in the hospitals, there had always been other people around. He'd only gotten his solitary life back since he came home; he wasn't sure if he was ready to share that with anyone, no matter how good her sandwich was... or how pretty her eyes were.

Perhaps he could deal with the mess himself. He bent down awkwardly on one knee, picked up a few plates, and stacked them together. Then, balancing the stack in one hand and holding his cane in the other, he hobbled into the kitchen.

He almost made it. At the kitchen door, he picked up his cane to push the door open, and the plates slid out of his hand and fell to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. Furious, he threw his cane away. It clattered over the shards of broken china. He flung himself down next to it and put his head against the wall in despair. He couldn't even manage to clean up a few plates. Pathetic. Useless.

Otto came over and plopped down by his side. Derwin thought he could see some sympathy in the dog's eyes. "I guess I shouldn't have been so rude to Miss Reyes, right?" he said to the dog.

Otto answered with a soft woof, telling Derwin all he needed to know.

With a sigh, Derwin dragged himself up and went into the kitchen for a broom and dustpan. Miss Reyes had cleaned up—the stove had been scrubbed, and the pot and pan she used to toast the sandwich were drying on the rack. When he opened the fridge, however, he found e.e. cummings' Collected Poems still where he'd left it. Somehow, the sight of that book in the fridge solidified Derwin's decision. Miss Reyes would not upset his life. She would straighten things up wherever necessary and leave the rest untouched, and that was exactly what he needed.

But nobody turned up the next day or the day after that. Derwin thought about calling the bakery, and then he realized he didn't know their phone number. He could call the property manager and find out, but that was one phone call too many for him to handle.

It wasn't until Sunday that Derwin heard a knock on the front door.

"I'm coming!" he called out, limping to the door as fast as his leg and his cane allowed. "Wait!"

He pulled the door open. A young man, perhaps a couple of years younger than Derwin himself, with the deep-set eyes and straight black hair of a Seminole, was dropping a basket of bread onto the swing on the front porch.

"Who are you?" Derwin asked. "Where's Miss Reyes?"

"I'm Frank Howard," said the young man, looking startled. Clearly he hadn't expected anyone to answer the door. "I work at the bakery. Miss Reyes—Alba—asked me to bring you these. They're at church today."

"Oh." Derwin felt a strange sense of disappointment. Next to him, Otto looked crestfallen as well. "In that case, could you please let her know that I accept her offer, and that she can start on Monday?"

Frank looked confused but promised to deliver the message.

As he watched the bakery's truck rumble down the drive, Derwin let out a sigh. He'd been hoping to tell Miss Reyes herself. It was absurd, of course. It made no difference, giving the message to Frank. But that slight disappointment told Derwin that he'd made the right decision in accepting Miss Reyes's proposal. He'd never looked forward to anything as he did to seeing her again. Perhaps he could let her into his life after all.

Chapter 3

Taglist: @kitkat80 (as always, if you want to be tagged, just let me know!)

[writerfae]

Well, after learning that beautiful piece of information

I'm gonna send you the ask I was planning to even before this, which is kinda strange (but cool)

What I noticed was that everyone we know from Aiden's family tree had a story that would fit into a fairy-tale book (for better or worse)

We have what happened to the Alder king that became a legend

We have Aiden's story as the Seer who saves the world

We have the prince and the hunter with Henry

And Milan and Ranva (apparently my current obsession for some reason, so please talk about them!). The love story of a human and a fae princess(?). Stealing a beautiful girl from her evel husband and making a family. A tale ending in tragedy.

I was listening to the song dancing and the dreaming from httyd 2 and it really reminds me of them.

You are right, the lives of Aiden, Henry and their parents do kind of feel like out of a fairytale book, but only in some aspects.

Yet their stories are no fairytales.

Henry’s is maybe, in a way. After all, he’s the hunter that married a prince. He went from not feeling like he belongs to finally finding his place. But now his life is quite ordinary, as ordinary as it can be for a king.

Aiden’s story, on the other hand, is much more like a heroic epic. He is facing situations that make him grow as a person and achieves great things. Before that, he was living an ordinary life. One he wants to go back to eventually.

And then we have Ranva and Milan. They are a tragic love story. Two people whose love mastered great odds and brought them happiness- only for it to be lost in the end.

And here we have it again, the wish to be ordinary. Ranva treasured their normal family life more than anything. This is as much a part of this family as the fairytale aspect of their life is.

None of them wanted to be those grand stories people will talk about, but somehow they ended up to be.

But more about Ranva and Milan’s story.

Ranva is a fae, but no princess. She was merely the daughter of a high lord. She was, however, engaged to a prince. And that’s where the problems started.

Because as you can guess since it’s Cameron she didn’t like her fiancé at all. But for her family’s sake she agreed to get married to him.

Now some time after her engagement there was a huge feast at their court, hosted by the wild hunt (a group of fair and wild fae that are hunters). So of course Ranva was there.

But you know who was also there? Milan. You should know that Aiden’s father was considered a very talented archer. So talented in fact, that the wild hunt invited him to hunt with them for a day and join their feast.

There he met what he considered the most pretty girl he had ever seen. So he went to talk to her and luckily, she seemed to be just as interested in him as he in her.

They spent hours talking and dancing and trying to hide from Ranva’s family and fiancé. And they decided they wanted to see each other again.

That’s when something pretty similar to what Henry and Callan did started. Milan and Ranva secretly met regularly in either of their realms. And they fell in love.

Ranva was very conflicted. She wanted to run away with Milan and live a normal life more than anything, but she didn’t want to leave her family hanging.

She saw it as her duty to marry Cameron and so she did, even though it broke her heart. She still met up with Milan behind her husband’s back and it was the only thing that kept her from being miserable.

Then Ranva’s discovered that she was pregnant. She knew it was Cameron’s child. She went to see Milan, distraught, and told him about it. She expected him to leave her, but he didn’t. He said whatever she’d decide, he would have her back.

Now for Ranva it was clear that she did not want her child to be raised at court with Cameron as the father. So for her baby, and also a little bit for herself and her love, she made the decision to leave everything behind after all.

So one day she ran away with Milan to start anew, as a family. Milan married her as soon as they came to his realm and brought her home as his wife.

The two were really happy, despite some people of the village not approving of them. Milan cared for Ranva’s, he loved her more than anything. And he loved Henry, too, as if he were his own son.

And then they had Aiden and they were happy for a long while, until Ranva’s past caught up to her.

[kookies2000]

"The opening title card alone. A friend pointed this out to me, the whole "This story... Is a Fairy Tale..." graphic. This is **such** a 180 from the other SHREK movies, especially the first SHREK, which opens with a Walt Disney-style book opening, laying down some exposition, and then Shrek himself ripping out a page, wiping his bum with it... That shows just what kind of attitude one movie has towards fairy tales, and what attitude the other one has. It's like this franchise has matured from its early class clown days."

In response to that, I love it!

Shrek was always dirty and crude. That's his personality. He doesn't care what others think of him and he likes to be himself, by himself. He is a hero but not that perfect prince charming hero. His best friend is also a talkative jackass donkey. And we love Donkey for his unfiltered mind. 😂 He's loud and he's sometimes rude but in a lovable way. He's the type that speaks his mind no matter what it sounds like and he's just so lovable. His past is also treated like a joke. "And then they all got DRUNK and started hitting me with a stick. And shouted piñata piñata!! What is a piñata anyways?" 🤣 He is that animal sidekick that every prince and princess has. Just not the cute and innocent type. Fiona is somewhat the same. She likes the boys for their loud and crude humor. She even joins in while still keeping her princess-like image. She has that perfect fairytale backstory. A damsel in distress waiting for her prince. But her personality doesn't exactly match a prim and proper princess. As I said, she likes to join in the dirty humor and is a badass. The trio is just that. They match the energy of dirty and crude jokes. The opposite of what most polished and clean fairy tales are like. And that's what we love about Shrek. They still have a fairy tale story but are told by those who don't match the perfect prince, side kick, and princess image. Wipe your ass with Disney kind of thing. This is a Fairytale but told from the view of characters who don't match that prim, perfect, and proper image.

Puss is a very different character. He always has been. He always stood out from the rest in the fact he seemed more serious, more mature, just less crude and dirty. We do get drug jokes from him but he always felt the most mature of the bunch. He speaks more politely, keeps up with his appearance, cares about honor, is flirtatious, and is sometimes the voice of reason.

And his films gave us that. A more mature and complex story to match Puss. His back story includes being betrayed by his brother and being forced away from his home. He can never go back because of what Humpty did to his name. Forced him to live a life of crime but he made the best of it. He steals from the rich and gives to the poor. A life of honor that slowly gets to his head. He becomes more narcissistic and feels immortal. He is the hero of his story but he isn't the fearless and humbled hero most fairytales portray. And then his best friend is also as complex as him. Perrito has a tragic story but he still holds his head high. He makes the best of his past (his sweater that his owners tried to kill him with.) and continues to live happily. And he isn't dumb or naive. He helps out in the film and is smart enough to know what's going on, what to do, and say. He's just a happy little guy who helps his friends feel what they need to feel. He is that animal sidekick every hero has. The thing is, Perrito isn't 100% humorous like most animal sidekicks. He can be serious. Same with Kitty. She has trust issues of being betrayed. Her most traumatic memory being the fact that she was declawed by owners who she loved. And she'll never know the reason why they did that to her. Betrayed by loved ones. So she does things herself and never relies on anyone. It could've been so easy to make her defenseless with her being declawed and always needing rescuing from Puss. Or have her wish to be something related to true love instead of trust. And even Puss and Kitty's romance is complex. They love each other but their insecurities get in the way. And they resolve it through communication and help from a therapy dog. This is indeed a Fairytale but told through the point of view of characters who are more complex. Who don't have a simple story. The hero and his sidekick save the day and rescue the love interest. It's like if Robbin Hood lost the shooting contest for being overly confident and he had to face jail time. Getting humbled and realizing he can't win everything. While Little John helps him heal emotionally and mentally through it all.

I still like the Disney version of Robbin Hood by the way.

I just had to get these thoughts out. But yes, I love how the openings to both Shrek and Puss in Boots are Fairytale openings but done in a way that matches the main characters personality.

Little Things I Dig About 'Puss In Boots: The Last Wish'

This will be an unorganized collection of thoughts, but... Here we go!

Do not read on if you have yet to see PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH. Spoilers *ahoy*!

The opening title card alone. A friend pointed this out to me, the whole "This story... Is a Fairy Tale..." graphic. This is **such** a 180 from the other SHREK movies, especially the first SHREK, which opens with a Walt Disney-style book opening, laying down some exposition, and then Shrek himself ripping out a page, wiping his bum with it... That shows just what kind of attitude one movie has towards fairy tales, and what attitude the other one has. It's like this franchise has matured from its early class clown days.

The sword-fighting in the opening action scene is seemingly in sync with 'Fearless Hero', just great timing and animated choreography there.

"Never been touched!"

Puss' battle with the giant gives me major SHADOW OF THE COLOSSUS vibes. He makes that whole ordeal look like nothing, and this was *after* he took on a governor and his soldiers.

The shot of Puss running down the rope holding the bell, in mid-air? A companion piece to "What's Up Danger?" from SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE. Also the shot of him 360-ing in the air before skewering the giant with his sword... That, too.

The continuity nods to not only the SHREK sequels, but also PUSS IN BOOTS Uno. The flashbacks Puss has when he encounters Death for the first time seem to imply that the events of PUSS IN BOOTS took place "after" SHREK 2, maybe even SHREK THE THIRD and SHREK FOREVER AFTER... Despite the implication that it was a prequel? I rewatched PUSS IN BOOTS a few weeks ago, and even that movie - sans the flashbacks/Humpty backstory - is rather vague on when it is set. Puss never mentions Shrek, Donkey, etc.... But weirdly, it could possibly take place after SHREK 2 at the very least?

Speaking of the first PUSS IN BOOTS... I'm now willing to know what the geography is of the SHREKverse. Where Shrek's swamp is, Far Far Away, San Ricardo from PUSS IN BOOTS, Del Mar from this movie's opening scene... Like where is everything in relation to one another? Are DreamWorks gonna make some sort of SHREK lexicon or map of the world that tells us more about this stuff?

A nice sense of pace when Puss stays at Mama Luna's place. We even get a passage of time there, which isn't so common in a lot of modern animated movies whose whole storylines seem to be over in 2-3 days.

Papa Bear singing a random ditty while interrogating Mama Luna with her own piano.

The town where Big Jack Horner's factory is: A very grimy and industrial-looking place for a SHREK series locale. It's fascinating even if we see very little of it. Seems like a crumby place to live.

Big Jack Horner's "Wanted" poster... The hell is THAT face?

Ya know, about the "Wanted" posters... I like that the film, despite leaning harder into fairy tales/fantasy than the first PUSS IN BOOTS, retains that Wild West/old-school adventure movie vibe from the first one with the Wanted posters and some of the score. "Fearless Hero" in particular. Like, this is still firmly in Puss' Wild West/Three Musketeers/Zorro/etc. roots.

Horner's quick snaps: "TAKE IT TO THE TROPHY ROOM!" "MAKE WITH THE BOX!" He's probably the most neurotypical character in this thing.

The Serpent Sisters are a lot of fun, especially the not-so-bright-one. Would've liked to have seen more of these two... Oh well, maybe in a prequel/spin-off short. They really reminded me of the twins from HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON. Hey, maybe DreamWorks could make a Goldilocks/3 Bears prequel where they had run-ins with these sisters.

One of Kitty Softpaw's attack moves is literally grabbing enemies by the insides out their mouths, like she's a dentist or something, and hurling them like they're frisbees. Humans twice her size, even! Her and Puss would've eviscerated Thanos.

Death's sudden appearances throughout the film... He's like the pterodactyl from JOUST, or Bendy from BENDY AND THE INK MACHINE. There is no beating him, and he'll just randomly appear... It's handled so effectively each time out.

Their take on the "cute eyes" scene. With the pushed art style and new approach to the animation, they really, REALLY push this gag for both Puss and Kitty, and even for Perrito when he finally masters the cute eyes.

Everything about the dark forest, really. In my Letterboxd review, I noted how this film was unique to the other SHREK films and the first PUSS IN BOOTS movie, in that it really just took on this very dreamy and airy feel. Something about it felt so ethereal in a way. Again, going back to the title card... It truly felt like a fantasy world, a fairy tale. This, to me, is evident in the scenes of Goldilocks being entranced by the Nostalgic Pines and Puss' confession to Kitty Softpaws when they're climbing a tall tree. Just all the shot compositions and color work and score, it's perfection. This is still a funny and farcical upside-down fairy tale world, but it's markedly different from the other SHREKs because of this.

Much has been written and said about the panic attack scene already, but what I particularly liked was how Puss runs through the woods for a bit, imagining the trees as Death looming. It is very reminiscent of the scene in SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS when Snow White, upon learning her stepmother wants her dead, runs through the forest and imagines all of the trees as gnarly monsters. Much like the scene in SNOW WHITE, PUSS IN BOOTS 2 doesn't lighten it with comedy or a gag. It is played straight, and Perrito coming to the rescue is not dissimilar to how the forest critters came to comfort a crying, frightened Snow White. Again, a night-and-day difference from how the other SHREK movies covered fairy tales. (And especially how the SHREKs “satirized” Disney's takes on those stories.)

The little song that Goldi, Baby Bear, and Papa Bear break into when approaching the illusion of their old home, dancing in a circle. It's like a nice little moment that those characters have together, establishing their connection and their little family quirks and such. It only lasts like a few seconds, but it's such a charming little moment.

The library card in the book of fairy tales Goldi used to read.

Nice callback to the dance-off from the first PUSS IN BOOTS when escaping Goldi and the bears.

"Oi like the cut of 'is jib!"

Is that an ACE ATTORNEY reference in a SHREK movie?

Such ace economy and pacing in the climactic final battle, with every section carefully thought out and so much being paid off, all the little details. It's just right. Three tones handled down pat, with seamless transitioning between the three: Kinetic action for everyone fighting, intense/scary when Death shows up, and then thrilling and heroic when "Team Friendship" defeat Jack Horner.

I'm sure I'm forgetting a few details, which I'll put on here when they come to me, haha... But yeah, I loved PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH.

[shima-draws]

Please tell us more about your Izuku and Inuko AU!! Especially me since I haven’t watched Bee and Puppycat 💖

OMG YES OF COURSE thanks for giving me the opportunity to gush

Also well this is obvious but this does contain spoilers for BAPC even in an AU context so if you haven’t seen it and don’t want spoilers. Stop reading now :’)

BASICALLY it’s about Izuku, who is currently 22 and cannot hold down a job to save his life. This causes issues with him being able to pay rent on his apartment, so he’s kinda desperate for work. All of this changes when he suddenly encounters a strange puppy? Cat? Both?, who Izuku decides to take home with him after the puppycat literally fell out of the sky and bonked him on the head lmao

After Izuku fixes him up, he laments about his inability to get rent money. The puppycat (Todoroki, or Inuko, as he’s referred to in this AU), who is shown to be more than just a brainless pet, reveals that he’s connected with an agency that gives people temporary work—so basically, one day jobs that don’t require actual full time commitment in exchange for pay. Even more of a shock, he’s able to transport himself and Izuku to a place where they can get temporary work. This in turn leads them to doing many different kinds of jobs on various planets. Imagine like, Super Mario Galaxy-esque planets for this. They’re usually pretty small, have a breathable atmosphere, and host a bunch of different talking creatures. Izuku and Inuko take on a variety of jobs and help out tons of aliens, pretty much!

As far as I can tell with what’s been established within the BAPC universe, magic isn’t an out of place thing and the residents of the island that all the characters inhabit are used to weird things happening around them. Of course a lot of them question it if it’s especially weird, but most of them don’t bat an eye at Inuko’s appearance, or that he’s smarter than your average pet. It’s basically a world where magic, technology, and space travel are familiar, at least to the people living on the island.

Anyway, as things progress we learn several things:

Inuko can talk, but only Izuku (and some aliens) can understand him,

Inuko actually has a very tragic past—he was originally a space prince, but abandoned his kingdom and became an outlaw. He fell in love with the Space King’s daughter (different kingdom. Not his own lol) and agreed to run away with her, but she betrayed him and led him into a trap by the Space King and his warlocks. The device meant to capture him malfunctioned and transformed him into the puppycat we all know and love so much before he escaped. Inuko has told this story as more of a fairy tale to Izuku, who isn’t aware that it’s all true and accurate, so he doesn’t know Inuko’s true name is Shouto and that he’s a prince/outlaw,

Izuku is regarded as very immature despite his age (not in the manner of him acting like a child but him just being kind of ignorant about responsibility and taking on more adult points of view) but there’s actually a deeper reason for this,

Izuku’s apartment is basically more of a triplex that he shares with two other families, one of which he grew up closely with. (I haven’t yet decided who each character is within the family yet.) Izuku is especially close to Rody, and they both kind of have a crush on each other?,

Izuku’s father is not present, but is shown to have been very close with him when Izuku was younger. It’s also stated several times that he’s a brilliant inventor. Izuku has a lot of strange magical contraptions in his apartment (and around the island) that were most likely invented by his father. Izuku’s mother is never mentioned,

During several of their temp jobs, Izuku and Inuko are attacked by enormous black hands with no visible body attached to them. They are later revealed to be connected to the warlocks responsible for Inuko’s transformation, who have been hunting Inuko down since his escape,

During a battle with several of these hands, Izuku is torn apart and is revealed to be part cyborg, made up of an assortment of robotic parts. Izuku was aware of this beforehand, but Inuko and Rody were not, so it came as a shock to them. Things start to make more sense: Why Izuku lacks the maturity he should have at his age (if that age is even accurate), the connection he has to his father (who created him), and the bizarre amount of strength he possesses. This event actually draws him and Inuko closer together, as Inuko realizes that they’re both outcasts and don’t really fit in anywhere.

That’s the gist of it!! Feel free to ask me more questions about stuff if you’re confused or just want to know more :D

[yandere-wishes]

A Story Told In Maybes  {Part #1}

🗡️Yandere! Enma Yuuken x reader

🗡️Summary: Enma Yuuken lives on the fine line between "Hero" and "Villain" but his story will never end in a "happily ever after" or a "tragically ever after" it will only end in Maybe...

🗡 Edited by the amazing @tealyjade-libran

🗡️ Alternative title: How many times can Genie use "Damn" in a story...

Maybe in some other world, they could have been lovers

Imagine that...

picture it as vividly as a fresh stab wound to your heart. Sketch the vision of a red waterfall carrying away your life. 

Now picture two people. A young man and woman, sitting on a park bench, holding hands and laughing, inching closer and closer. 

Imagine love, happiness, tranquility...

But those things only exist in fairy tales. And his life was most certainly not a fairy tale. 

They were foreigners, outsiders, aliens. Banished into a strange land were twisted fairy tales, roamed the earth. Where magic and mischief came as naturally to the inhabitants as breathing. Where nothing mattered, because nothing was. Everything is and thus it isn't. Nothing made sense, and sometimes, in some rare moments of stolen repose, Enma Yuuken was scared that nothing would ever make sense again. 

All of it, every microscopic thing about this 'new world' was wrong, abnormal, twisted. 

Everything except his traveling companion. Another lost soul as disjointed and out of place as he was. Another ghost trying to survive in this matrix of a so-called reality. 

There was no shock initially, no surprise in not being the only normal creature to be transported to this bizarre world. Enma knew full well that he wasn't special in any way. Another foreigner being here was one of the few things that actually made sense. 

But as the old expression goes, everything comes at a price. 

Someone else just like him being here, being stuck in this nightmare, made sense. Yet the price of logic was a thread of hysteria that had woven itself deep within his battered heart. A maddening sense that gripped his lungs, robbing them of breath. That picked off pieces from his tattered mind, replacing them with clear cutout thoughts of her. It was always only her.

His companion in this broken world just had to be you. A frail, naïve little girl with no sense about her. Some pretty-girl protagonist straight out of the pages of Shojo Beats. The kind of girl who finds her happily ever after no matter where the hell she is. 

Yet he did not have that luxury, his life was dictated by a series of maybes and could bes. He was a secondary character at best, a background shadow at worst. With no purpose other than smiling and waving. And listening to the protagonist weep about their love-driven woes.

Some days, when the dreary bell chimed for the last time, when the students marched back to the solitude of their dorms, Enma would wander around the halls, squirming in his own misery. Pondering why, oh why of all the people, in all the towns, in all the worlds, did you have to be the one to wind up in this grim land along with him. 

Why fate always had to be so cruel, so domineering, thinking it knew better than the people whose miserable lives it toyed with. He wanted to be your lover, your prince, yours. But what would a guy, who doesn’t even belong in this backward world, have to offer some heroine-type sweetheart? 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

The Ramshackle’s flickering porch light glows in the distance. Like a dying star beckoning him to a destroyed paradise. He knows what's waiting for him behind the worn door. He knows you'll be there standing by the cracked dinner table, laying out days-old sandwiches for dinner, while Grimm rangles with an expired can of tuna. He knows you'll smile with tears in your doe-like eyes as you retell the fables of your endeavors. Telling him in great detail how the so-called king of beasts overpowered you in the school garden. How the King of poisons stole yet another kiss. The tales go on and on. Never-ending, never stopping, never giving him the chance to scavenge the fragments of his shattered heart.

You play your role so damn well. You know how to be the damsel in distress, the poor thing in need of saving. It's repulsive, disgusting...but only because he doesn't know how to be the hero that you need. 

If he was being honest -something he rarely did nowadays- Those "prefects" were the root of all his problems. They were the evil that made this dark world an endless horror. They'd been the ones to drive him into the "caring older brother" role. They had twisted his hand, leading him to the role of the "side-hero" like a lamb to the slaughter. Made him into a prince charming in a world that ate princes alive and spat them out once more. 

They had sealed his fate with a few insults and loaded threats. With just a few longing stares overflowing with lust and envy. They were villains, in a world that celebrated sinners. A world that cheered when the dragon steals the princess and rejoices when the evil king sits upon his skeleton throne. They were villains in every dreadful sense of the damn word. 

It's hard to be in love when all odds are against you. 

When your fate binds you into one role with no way out.

Like a rabbit hole made of quicksand. It dragged him deeper and deeper into intimate madness.

Maybe in some fair world, those leeching villains could keep their greedy blood-drenched hands off of you.

Maybe in a world where the sun never dies, you could bring yourself to love him.

Maybe he could have been the love interest, maybe, maybe, maybe.

It's always only MAYBE!

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

"Welcome home Nii-san," 

It's a sweet greeting that ties his guts into ribbons. His hands grow damp as his heavy eyes stare into yours. His lips curl into a painted smile, shielding you from the pain that's clawing in his stomach.

"Hi..(Y/n)"

His voice cracks and croaks like a dying frog. His lips feel abnormally dry and his eyes sting as if they've been pierced by diamond daggers. His steps are heavy as he plops down in his seat. The weight of his worries pulled him down harder than gravity ever could. He watches you through tried, restless orbs. Watches as you waltz over to your seat and sit down with the half grace of some future queen to be. It's bitter, dreadful, leaving a sickly toxin-like taste in his mouth. The mere thought that someday one of those, sinners, will take your hand and drag you to some kingdom far far away makes Enma want to claw his brain out with his bare nails. 

Enma's focus shifts over from his traveling companion to the silver-coated fireball licking his paws. Grimm's teal eyes scan him nervously before he offers a nervous smile, a rarity for the narcissistic cat. He's usually so talkative, so boasting, there was never a moment of tranquility with that cat around...

It takes a moment. A steel coated moment before the gears in Enma's head begin to turn. Before he can place his finger on the heavy abnormality weighing down the atmosphere. His nerves jolt to life, leaving a freezing sweat behind their trail. The room is spinning like a ballroom floor. Something's off, something big and obvious and hidden and...

Maybe...

"So..."

It's your sweet voice that breaks the tension creeping into the air. Melodic and luscious just like the sensation of a blissful dream. The room freezes in its tracks. The heavy atmosphere melts away like a cube of ice. Normality has one foot through the door. Behind it, hope and tranquility peek their heads through the tiny gap.

 Maybe just maybe everything is alright. Maybe it's just him, his stress and anxiety are starting to play cruel jokes on his wonder mind. Maybe he's just going mad. Yeah, that's the sanest conclusion to draw from all this. 

Enma cranes his neck to the side to get a better view of your face. Distress is scribbled all over your skin, like pristine razor cuts. You shift around in your seat, clawing at your uniform skirt as if the midnight black fabric is cutting off your circulation. Your fingers nudge the entrance to your pocket fiddling with something he can't quite make out. 

His voice is low, shaky, as he replies. The unusualness of the situation has him on edge. Nervous to the bitter bone. Maybe he was wrong, maybe his nerves were right to be wary of whatever this was. This uncertainty permeated the air-tight room. 

"What is it?" 

Slowly you drag out a white envelope flooded seven times over from your pocket. You stretch out your hand placing it in between his fingers. Enma throws a passive look at the note, his nose wrinkled up at the familiar scent that pervaded from the paper. 

"What's this?" 

It was rhetorical, asked out of dull, morbid courtesy. This time he didn't bother looking at you, in fear of seeing you look -lord forbids- gleeful. 

"A love letter, Grimm found it in our locker after class." 

There was a pause, lengthy, nerve-wracking, heart wrenching. Yuuken could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat, he could almost feel the excitement radiate off your body. 

"Can you believe it Nii-san? Someone actually left me a love letter!"

It hurt it really did, this time his heart didn't shatter. It simply broke, in two or three or maybe four. Who knows, who cares.  They had escalated from simple harassment and unsightly displays of public affection to leaving you love letters. How ungodly, how absurd, how brave...

He laments, eyes tracing over the fog of his breath as it wafts through the musty room. He wants to rip that damned piece of paper, shred it into millions so the words become ineligible, so you'll never read those horrible words again. So you'll forget that some damn fool other than him can actually love you. But he doesn't, he has too much self restraint and too much respect for his dear "little sister" to actually do it. 

His arm stretches over the table, skin illuminated by the dying candle on the center. He places the letter back safely in between your fingers. His eyes meet yours for only the second time that night. He takes in your face, Committing every piece of it to his miserable memory. The heartily glow in your crystal eyes, the faint schoolgirl smile dancing across your lips, the rose blush kissing your cheeks, the way the candle illuminates your skin, wrapping in a sparkling glow like the princess from those tales of old. You're mesmerizing in every way, it would be reasonable for other men to notice your elegance. No wonder those "prefects" were drawn to you so naturally like moths to a golden flame. 

"Who sent it?" 

His voice comes out like a block of ice, shielding away any and all his stray emotions. He doesn't want to know how doleful he is, he just can't have you taking pity on him. 

Your smile fades ever so slightly, your brows draw closer. Confusion is etched on your face. You haven't got a clue. 

"Well...I'm not sure, but they did say to meet them at the school gates when the clock chimes twelve."

Oh, joy, another fairy tale reference. It's comedic how fairy tales have begun to dictate his life. Everywhere he turns there's a grim tale awaiting him. Yuuken spares a quick glance at the crooked clock hanging by a loose thread. It’s a minute to midnight. 

"I should come with you" 

It's not a request but you take it as so. 

"No need to bother, I'll take Grimm, he could use the walk. He's starting to bulk up a bit"

"HEY! The great Grimm-Sama doesn't "Bulk up" He only gets more powerful!" 

Before the older male can protest, you're already halfway out the door. Grimm scurrying to follow you on all fours like a pesky rat. The door slams on your way out, leaving Yuuken alone with his morbid screeching thoughts. 

There goes the only good thing in his life. Into the arms of another. 

For a second he contemplates leaving you to fate, after all, who's he to disobey fate, go against whoever orchestrates this universe. But it's only a second, short lived and quickly died. 

Maybe he's a hero.

Maybe he's a Prince Charming.

Maybe he's a villain.

Maybe he's just some honorary older brother looking out for his kid sister.

Maybe, just maybe, he's your future lover;

and he'll be damned if he lets you slip out of hands. 

Enma's quick to grab his old practice blade from the overstuffed closet. It's not much, but it's all he has from the normal world, from his world. 

The door grates for the last time that night as he steps out into the cold midnight air. The stars blink in some sort of secret tongue, either warning him or encouraging him, he doesn't know. Nor does he truly care, for Enma Yuuken is done letting life and fate and villains decree his meaningless life. Here and now that's where he'll make his stand, he'll save you. Kiss you. Love you. Marry you. You, You, YOU

But there's still one nagging thought that screams inside his head as he dashes for the school gates. This world worships villains, prays at their feet, and hands them death and destruction on golden plates. And he's no villains, he's some sort of upside-down, in-between. Rotting alone in the border between Hero and Villain. By law of society, he's a reject, a useless foreigner, an alien, an outsider. 

and MAYBE he's already too late...

Who wrote the love letter? Was it the head of the savanaclaw dorm or maybe the head of the heartslabyul dorm ? Maybe it’s the ever mysterious  Tsunotarou... 

[bailey-reaper]

Can I request Baroks s/o meeting Klint? Wether he's alive or as a ghost or in dream? I just need that 'protect him you have my blessings' from big bro and maybe 'be happy with them' to Barok...

A Brother's Blessings

Notes: You can indeed request that, anon! I've decided to go with Klint still being alive and to have Barok's partner be a member of the nobility.

S/O is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). Barok refers to them using petnames.

Content Warnings: none.

"Bother!" Klint beamed as he came to greet Barok and his plus one as they alighted from their carriage, "I'm so glad you decided to come along," he turned his attention to his little brother's sweetheart, "And this must be the one who managed to capture my little brother's heart..."

"Klint..." Barok coughed, blushing, "There's no need to make a fuss..."

"Come now, when will there be a better time to make a fuss?" he asked, blue eyes glittering with delighted mischief over the chance to fluster his adorable little brother.

It was a look Barok knew all too well.

They giggled, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord van Zieks."

"Pffft, please," Klint laughed, "Call me 'Klint', or 'big brother', if you like. We're practically family!"

"Huh?" the blush that was warming Barok's cheeks spread to the hoods of his ears.

"Well, if you insist, big brother Klint," they were grinning just as impishly as their new-found sibling, "Thank you very much for inviting me to attend this celebratory ball and congratulations on your wedding."

"Why thank you," he made a shallow bow, before stealing a peep at his blushing baby brother, "You have excellent taste, little brother."

"....." Barok sighed, he should have known these two meeting would be a very dangerous combination, and yet he couldn't be happier to see them getting along. After all, his brother's approval was important to him. He smiled slightly, "... Thank you."

"Let's go inside! It's far too chilly for standing out here teasing my little brother, he's the only one who gets to keep warm!"

". . . . . Very droll," he mumbled, blushing all the more.

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

The ball had been arranged so that those among the aristocracy who refused to leave London still had their chance to indulge in a moment of celebration and high society gossiping. Klint knew all too well how important it was to keep favour with (and keep an eye on) his noble peers.

Barok took his beloved's hand and escorted them into the impressive ballroom. It was an incredibly luxurious space: chandeliers spilled glittering light over the floor, while several tables had been set up with beautiful floral arrangements of opulent red roses and delicate white baby's breath; there were various heavy drapes of crimson fabric with golden edges and in the centre of it all was a beautiful dance floor that looked fit for a fairy tale story between a prince and princess.

"It's so beautiful," they whispered, looking around in awe.

"Yes... Lord Baskerville really did make a point of showing off his wealth to everyone," Barok remarked, knowing full well what this display was all about -- a message to the other families of just how wealthy and influential the Baskervillers were; and now that his daughter was married to the Master of the van Zieks household, their status was all the more secure.

"Does it bother you?" they asked him softly as he led them toward the dance floor.

"Hm? Does what bother me?" he asked as he took his beloved in his arms and swayed them gently in time to the music that a live orchestra was playing.

"This... way that noble families show off?"

"I certainly don't see the point of it," Barok conceded, "But my brother and his wife look as if they're in a happy world of their own, so I don't mind what these nobles do with their time or their money."

So long as Klint was happy, he was happy.

"That's true, they do look blissfully unaware don't they?"

"Mm-hm, he's always like that when Lady Baskerville is around... one time he walked straight into a fountain because he was too busy looking at her."

They laughed, "Really?!"

"Oh yes. At first she only remembered him as 'the one who walked in to a fountain'. Took a while for his reputation to improve..."

Somehow that sounded just like Klint.

"I do hope you're not slandering my good name, little brother?" Klint said as he walked over with his wife by his side, "Now, if you don't mind, Barok, I'd love to cut in."

"And I'd love the chance to dance with my new little brother," Lady Baskerville said with a smile that belied the same impishness as her husband's. They were undoubtedly a formidable couple.

Barok sighed, ".... With the two of you looking at me like that, I fear I don't have much of a choice in the matter."

"Very astute," Lady Baskerville said with a smile, "You don't," she offered him her hand and was duly led away to dance.

Klint grinned, "Isn't she amazing?"

"Yes," they replied, as they accepted Klint's hand and took up a rather energetic waltz with the older van Zieks sibling; it took a bit of time to adjust to his far bolder, swifter movements, but once they got the hang of it they felt able to finish their thought, "As I understand it, amazing enough to warrant an impromptu dip in a fountain."

"Oh Gods!" Klint laughed, "He told you that, did he? Goodness... how embarrassing... never mind! I left quite an impression in her mind, and now she's my wife, so it didn't damage my chances..." despite the movements being somewhat like a waltz, Klint was clearly a fan of being unpredictable and occasionally he would twirl his dance partner as if taken by some spontaneous mischief.

"It certainly seems you were quite memorable, but then you and your brother are both rather striking regardless of whether or not you walk into water features."

He chuckled, "Yes... I suppose we are a good head taller than most of our peers... we definitely stand out in that regard," they nodded in agreement, "Now... I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For giving my little brother such splendid companionship. He talks about you incessantly and he always smiles as he does so. It's a relief for me to see him truly happy, truth be told I always worried that he might end up as some sort of tragic hermit, given that he's so focused upon his studies..."

"Oh.... as far as I'm concerned, I'm the lucky one. Barok's wonderful."

Klint smiled fondly, "Hm. You two are clearly made for each other... you have my blessing, take good care of Barok for me will you? No matter what happens, I feel as though I can be safe in the knowledge that he's found his soulmate."

"Ah...." tears prickled at the corners of their eyes, "Thank you, Klint... your blessing means a lot to me, not just to me, I know Barok will be thrilled too."

"Yes... he does look up to me rather a lot... but it relieves me to know that he's found another to hold in such high regard."

They continued to dance.

"You look much lighter these days," Lady Baskerville observed as Barok led her in a dance, "It's lovely to see you looking so fondly at that one. They really do mean a lot to you, don't they?"

He coughed, trying to focus on keeping his steps in time to the music, "... Yes... they're very important to me...." they were the light of his life.

She smiled and nodded, "I'm very pleased for you both, I wish you all the best Barok."

"Thank you, milady..."

"Oh please, you can call me 'Big Sister' you know?"

"... You're just as incorrigible as Klint..."

She smiled, clearly delighted, "Thank you for noticing."

At the end of the night, Klint laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, "That one is very special brother, make sure you enjoy every moment and I shall be eagerly waiting for you to deliver my invitation to your wedding."

Barok choked on the glass of champagne he was drinking...

[limitlessgojo]

Princes, Fairy Tales, and Tears

Type: Quick and short one shot

Warnings : none

Notes/ Tags: fluff. No hurt, just Comfort, Some tears/ crying

Because I love watching Chinese and Korean dramas I made this 🤣 also because I'm such a sucker for super soft Nori who calls his s/o pet names uwuu

You ran out of your dorm room into the common area, to grab some tissue, water and snacks as you were running low. Unfortunately, you're also crying.

Aware that your eyes are very much red and watery, and snot is running down your nose with little sobs choking out of your mouth, you quickly made your way to get the things and not get any attention.

In your defense, it was midnight and you didn't expect anyone else to be up. But you bumped into Noritoshi who was eating soba by himself, after finishing a mission very late.

"Y/n!! Are you okay?"

That question made you cry harder, as you reached for the box of tissues that was on the table. "I'm okay, I'm okay", you sobbed out as you cried and wiped off your face with the tissue.

"What happened? Did someone make you cry?" Noritoshi was clearly shaken, never seeing you like this before. He quickly stood by your side and pulled you to face him.

"No, everything's fine. I was watching this Romance Drama on my phone and it was just *sobs* the story was so tragic. Then my box of tissues ran out. Also my snacks and water", you cried out.

Noritoshi pulled more tissue and helped wipe away your tears. You looked up at him, surprised at seeing him so close. The whole time, your mind was just on the drama, your heart still clenching at the death of one of the lovers, dooming the other to a lonely fate.

But now he was so close to you, and you became very very conscious of the warm hands on your face. The long fingers under the tissue, cleaning you off. He even placed a hand on the small of your back to rub it and help you calm down.

"You gave me a good fright. I'm glad you're not hurt," Noritoshi murmured and helped to smooth out your hair. "Next time, if you're hurt or really need help please let me know."

Where was this coming from all of the sudden? Confused, you simply nodded. "Do you want to watch the drama with me while we eat?" You offered.

He smiled and agreed, wanting to spend more time with you. You both enjoyed watching it, Noritoshi chuckling as you sobbed hard over the screen. He just patted your back and forced you to drink water and recover the lost fluids in your body.

It was honestly one of the best things ever. You loved watching with him, and hearing the little comments he makes.

Ever since then, it became a habit to watch dramas with him.

You often found yourself moving closer to him and cuddling into him especially during intense fight scenes or spooky scenes. And without fail, he would hold you close and hush you.

You were ignorant to the way his eyes stayed on you whenever you brightened at the TV, or the way he comments and asks you about the male leads in the drama.

But spending a lot of time with your crush of 3 months didn't help your feelings towards him. It definitely did not help knowing how sweet and kind he was with you. Letting you know about his schedule, so both of you can spend time to rest and watch dramas together.

Even the other students were getting curious and suspicious at the large amount of time both you and Noritoshi spend together at every chance you have. You talk about the drama plots, then morals, ideals, dreams, and everything else about life.

Your heart beat faster and faster everytime he held you in his arms. Until you finally confessed to him one night after you finished a new drama episode.

"Finally." Noritoshi laughed out loud. "Watching all those love stories, watching so much handsome men. I wondered if you wanted love for yourself too. I'm glad you chose me, sweetheart. I like you too." He rubbed his nose against yours. You flushed deeply at him, burying your face into his chest.

"Stay the night."

You were flustered at his suggestion. You both always parted ways, whether it be in the common room, your room, or his room, after the drama. Sleeping together with him was quite fast already isn't it?

.... but you looked up at him, and who could resist those eyes?

But..... "Can we watch the next episode in the morning?" Noritoshi lost it, laughing out loud. He pulled you closer. "Of course. For you, the world."

You smiled to yourself. Fairy tales are real; you found your prince after all.

~End~

[ariel-seagull-wings]

TOP 12 PORTRAYALS OF RAPUNZEL

@princesssarisa​ @sunlit-music​ @superkingofpriderock​ @mademoiselle-princesse​ @amalthea9​ @theancientvaleofsoulmaking​ @astrangechoiceoffavourites​ @notyouraveragejulie​ @tilthenextbluemoon​ @giuliettaluce​

Rapunzel, Rapunzel: lay down your hair so i can climb the golden stair! 

These are the words to call the lady named after a vegetable, so one can climb her hair and visit the tower where she is kept prisoner. At the same time that she is known for her exotic name and very long hair, personality wise Rapunzel tends to get very underestimated. Some adaptations gaved her a pretty passive role, and pop culture parodies would usually paint her as “just a girl who cries for the Prince to save her”, downplaying the inteligence and resilience to adapt into harsh situations that she showed in the original Brothers Grimm’s tale. So today, i will share my twelve favorite portrayals of the long haired heroine, that showed respect to her, gaved her carisma and made justice to her strenghts.

12º The version from ‘The Story of Rapunzel’ (1951)

At the start of his career as a stop motion animator, Ray Harryhausen made, with the collaboration of his relatives, a series of shorts based on fairy tales. Those shorts were ‘The Mother Goose Stories’, ‘The Tortoise and The Hare’, ‘The Story of Rapunzel’, ‘The Story of Hansel and Gretel’, ‘The Story of Little Red Riding Hood’ and ‘The Story of King Midas’ (when this tale started to be taken out of greek mythology and be perceived as a medieval fairy tale in the public conscience), where the characters were silent and the voice was given to a narrator. This encarnation of Rapunzel is more on the naive and passive spectrum, but i like her design and the fact she is animated in stop motion, plus the short is historically significant for being one of the early atempts to adapt her tale , and that’s why she has a place on this ranking.

11º The version from Simsala Grimm (1999)

In this german-french, two plushies, Yoyo and Doc Croc, receive life from a magic book to have adventures inside the Brother’s Grimm tales. They go to the tale of Rapunzel and help her and Prince Egmond get together. This encarnation of Rapunzel is kept as both prisoner and apprentice of Frau Gothel, who wants to turn the young woman into a mean spirited sorceress like her. But Rapunzel can only make spells that create pretty and merry things, like squirrels and birds. It’s a nice touch of humour, and that grants her the Eleventh Place at this ranking.

10º Mackenzie Mauzy in Disney’s Into the Woods (2014)

This movie as a whole is a weak adaptation of the now classic Broadway stage musical. But it had some enjoyable elements, one of them being Mackenzie Mauzy’s performance as Rapunzel. Mauzy has a short time on screen, but in that short time she brings beauty, grace, melancholy and anger to the role, and this makes it stand out enough to be the Tenth Place in this ranking.

09º Linda Purl in Timeless Tales from Hallmark (1990-91)

Timeless Tales from Hallmark was a direct to video series that had a live action hosted by Olivia Newton John and animated segments showing the fairy tale of the day, animated by the Hannah-Barbera studio. Purl’s Rapunzel is the romantic dreamer archetype, who sings her wish to be free. She has two encounters with the Prince before getting caught by the Witch Scarlotta, having her hair cutted and exiled to the distant woods. She reunites with the Prince, who has been turned into a blue bird (i see what you did there, screenwriters), and breaks the spell over him with her tears. She should smell more onions to cry and bottle those tears, that can be very usefull.

08º Tisha Campbell in Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child (1995)

In the bayous of Louisiana, Rapunzel is taken from her parents by Zenobia the Hoodoo Diva (played by Whoopi Goldberg, by the way), who seeks to make her a protege and shows her such neat tricks as voodoo dolls and shrinking her head down. Rapunzel is reluctant to do this when she sees Zenobia is hurting innocent creatures. Rapunzel soon attracts a handsome Creole prince, who must rescue Rapunzel and reunite her with her parents, but Zenobia seeks to thwart the interloper. One of the first african-american portrayals, this kind yet rebellious encarnation is a refreshing take on the character, and that is why she takes the Eight Place here.

07º Mandy Moore in Disney’s Tangled (2010)

After her mother dranked a tea made of a magical flower, Rapunzel was born with a magical hair that is able to heal any desease and rejuvenate anyone who touches it. Because of that, she was kidnapped and emprisoned in a Tower by Gothel, who raises Rapunzel to be insecure and afrayed of the outside world. But her curiosity is more powerfull, and with the guidance of a thief named Flinn Rider, the young lady escapes the Tower and goes on a journey to discover both what is scary and what is beautifull on the outside world with her own eyes, along the way captivating people with her merry and spontaneous personality, wich gives her the Seventh Place on this list.

06º Pamela Winslow Kashani in American Playhouse: Into the Woods (1991)

The lady who originated the role in the Broadway stage musical. Like Mackenzie Mauzy, Pamela Winslow Kashani brings the beauty, the grance, the melancholy and the anger to the role, but with an extra touch of energetic humour, taking advantage of the fact that she is in a stage show and getting intense as possible. That humour in the First Act  is what makes her PTSD and tragic death in the Second Act all the more heartbreaking. Plus, she probably has the most beautifull singing voice ever gaved to a Rapunzel encarnation, and sometimes that is enough to earn a place in my rankings.

05º Mitsuko Horie/Lara Cody in Grimm’s Fairy Tale Classics (1988-89)

This encarnation has a tragic backstory, having been forgotten by her parents after they received a memory spell from the Witch and they had three more kids after her. She is raised in the Tower as the Witch’s granddaughter, and develops a great talent to play the harp. Is the sound of that harp that attracts the atention of the Prince, who comes to the tower and conquers Rapunzel’s love. Sadly, when they are making plans on how to take her away from the Tower, the Witch sees the Prince climbing down, so she cuts Rapunzel’s hair and beats her till unconsciousness before exiling the poor young woman in the desert, where she learns to survive while raising the son that she conceived with the Prince, who searches for Rapunzel despite being blinded by thorns.

04º Luisa Wietzorek in Sechs Auf Einen Streich (2009)

This adaptation gives some interesting touches to Rapunzel’s story and character: until age 12, she lived a nomadic life, travelling in Gothel’s donkey pulled cart. But one day Gothel spots Rapunzel talking with a young boy, and decides to lock her in the Tower, where there is a magic golden haircomb that makes Rapunzel’s hair grow to be used as a ladder by her adoptive mother. Years pass, and the destiny brings the Prince, who was the young boy of the pass, to the Tower where the now grown up Rapunzel lives, and she has to face a dilema: continuing to live in the Tower, that brings the feel of comfort and safety, or taking risks and running away to freedom with the Prince she fell in love with.

03º Kelly Sheridan in Barbie as Rapunzel (2002)

This was my first animated adaptation of the fairy tale, and still is my favorite. In this movie, while giving some painting lessons to her little sister, Barbie tells a version of the Rapunzel story to encourage her creativity: kidnapped as a baby by the Witch Gothel, Rapunzel was raised as a house maid, receiving constant verbal mistreatments. But, thanks to her friendship with a rabbit named Hobie and a dragon cub (who still needs to learn how to fly) called Penelope, and her love of painting, the young long haired lady never lets her spirit be broken, always dreaming of someday go to live free in a castle by the sea. One night, she is surprised to find a haircomb that turns into a magic paint brush, wich can make a portal where she can escape and explore the ouside world, and in her first journey, she meets and falls in love with the dashing Prince Stefan, while asking him to not his name to her, because she is afrayed of being forced to tell it to Gothel. And she doesn’t stay long, because she fears that Gothel will get revenge on Hugo, Penelope’s father, for her escape. Talk about having a great sense of altruism, who wouldn’t want to have this lady as their best friend?!

02º Sylvia Wolff  in Rapunzel oder Der Zauber der Tränen (1988)

This german TV Movie combines the tale of Rapunzel with another, more obscure tale collected by the Brothers Grimm, called Maid Maleen. In this version, Rapunzel growed up very acustomed to the comfort and rich life provided by the Old Witch, using a magic reel to roll her hair in and make it grow to be used as a latter. Even tough she is in love with Prince Mathias, she is afrayed of going to the outside world. Later, not being enough that the Old Witch discovers her secret, cuts of her hair and blinds Prince Mathias, the King, after learning the existence of a maiden in the tower who becamed the love of his son, orders his troops to search the tower and seal its window, because he wants Mathias to marry another neighbour princess he arranged for him! Fortunally one of the soldiers takes enough pity to let a loose brick so Rapunzel can breath. She tries to use the point reel to scratch the clay that glues the bricks, and after cutting herself in the reel and crying over it, the reel regains magic, floating, opening the bricks, helping her to escape  to the outside world and search for her beloved Mathias...

And my Number One favorite portrayal of Rapunzel is:

01º Shelley Duvall in Faerie Tale Theatre (1983)

There were some small changes made in some detailles of the story (radishes replacing rampion to be more familiar with international, non german audiences,  insinuation that the Peasants Wife’s craving of the vegetal was a spell purposefully cast by the Witch, Rapunzel being traped in the Tower at adulthood instead of age twelve and a talking parrot/macaw that tells the Witch of the Prince’s visits), but as a whole, this is probably the most faithfull adaptation of the Brothers Grimm tale, and is all the more benefited for it, specially Rapunzel’s character, portrayed by the shows herself, Shelley Duvall. Duvall presented a very sincere passion for the source material, and in her performance, she showed a deep understanding of Rapunzel’s character and why she resonates with so many people: her rebeliousness, her curiosity, her romanticism, her inteligence, her quiet strenght, her resilience and her sense of hope, all of those qualities that the Grimm’s described in their heroine, are all there! When i watch this episode of Faerie Tale Theatre, i don’t see an actress playing a role, i see an icon of my childhood coming to life!

And that is why Shelley Duvall in Faerie Tale Theatre is whom i consider my definitive Rapunzel.

[theonceandfutureking6481]

BBC's Merlin Season 1 Episode 1: The Dragon's Call Analysis

*SPOILERS- FOR THE WHOLE SHOW*

So I just re-watched episode 1 of Merlin, The Dragon's Call and I thought I'd post my thoughts here, since this is the kind of thing I always wanted after I watched Merlin for the first time. Sorry, it's quite long!!

This episode is great fun to watch but also really interesting from a thematic perspective, as it introduces all the key characters and many key themes that continue throughout the show.

Setting it up as subverting traditional telling's of the legend

The wonderful thing about Arthurian legend is how many ways you can tell it, there is very little canon, it's whole point is that it has been reinterpreted time and again to say different things, be that as it may there are traditional elements which tend to remain constant and Merlin keeps some of these but many it takes out and it sets that up here.

The introduction is like a fairytale, "the young warlock arriving at the gates of Camelot", feels very much like the introduction to a fairy tale. This is on one hand telling us that this is a story we know like any fairytale, but the very fact that Merlin is young shows us that it is going to be different.

On the side, I love the line "A boy that will in time father a legend", because there's just this wonderful gap between the audience and the characters (as there is throughout the whole story), we know that Merlin will do great things, we know that Arthur will too, they are stories we have heard (tying again into that fairytale esque introduction), and its wonderful to know that, to see Merlin and know that he is destined for greatness.

Introduction to characters:

I haven't got a specific section for Merlin here, but its sort of strewn throughout everyone elses.

Morgana:

If you know Arthurian legend you will know that in many (even most) versions of the story Morgana is a villain, so her introduction here is both scary and fascinating. She is so clearly not a villain, and you wonder (if Merlin stays true to this element) what is going to change and happen that she will become one. I knew from the start that Morgana would become a villain (I had heard a lot of spoilers), so it was especially tragic and interesting to watch her character arc because I always knew. Interestingly she is immediately set up in alliance with Merlin, even though they barely interact. We know that he is a sorcerer, and her first lines are oppositional to Uther's stance on magic, she out of everyone in Camelot seems the most likely ally. This is the start of what becomes parallel character arcs, Morgana and Merlin are both fighting for magic to become legal but they end up going about it in different ways, and one is the main villain, the other our hero. They are the same and yet opposites, and the setting up starts from here.

Arthur:

Arthur appears quite simply to be a spoiled bully, not exactly what we expect from the King Arthur we know and love. The position he starts in though is important for a key element of the story which is Merlin and Arthur creating a better world in many ways directly oppositional to Uther's teachings, based on love, kindness, willingness to put others first and respect for others. Uther's world is one where strength is rewarded and he is (in a more adult way than Arthur) a bully, as we learn later he is someone who takes his anger and fear out on others, who takes advantage of his position to hurt people even those he loves. Uther can be a good king, but not when it asks him to make sacrifices of his worldview or things that really matter to him. Uther teaches Arthur some important things but there are many things Arthur has to unlearn, and these bullish tendencies, and lack of respect for others inherent in them are one of them. We do however see Arthur's inherent nobility and goodness in this episode. When he lets Merlin go because even though he's an idiot "he's a brave one", it shows us how Arthur respects what people do rather than who they are. Uther wouldn't of let Merlin go (though to be fair Uther probably wouldn't of picked a fight with a peasant), he would have thought that the law had to be upheld no matter the individual circumstance. Merlin attacked the prince that is definitely illegal but Arthur respects his courage (even though it came at the cost of his humiliation), and there is something different to Uther in that, even good.

Merlin and Arthur:

This episode aside from setting the tone for the more hilarious aspects of Merlin and Arthur's relationship establishes some other interesting things about what they are going to be to each other in this version of the story. Traditionally Merlin is Arthur's teacher, often tutoring him as a child, obviously this doesn't happen here but they retain that element of teaching here. Kilgharrah literally says that maybe it is Merlin's job to change the fact that Arthur's an idiot. Merlin challenges Arthur from the start, willing to criticise him and treat him as an equal (which Arthur actually appears to love), and we see perhaps what Merlin is going to teach Arthur and the more noble elements of Arthur's character that Merlin's going to bring. It is also only within the context of his interactions with Merlin that we see Arthur's best side (at least in this episode). Merlin shows Arthur that he has to treat all people with respect, Arthur recognises that Merlin is brave and full of qualities that Arthur himself admires. When Merlin saves Arthur's life you can see Arthur re-evaluating everything he thought he knew about him, there is a respect there.

Arthur's Mum Igraine

She's not a big part of this episode but she was mentioned and I think its interesting how she's represented. In many ways her representation is highly simplistic, she falls to the fate of many fairy tale mothers in being dead before the story begins, she's a plot device. She is presented (not outright but implied) with all the stereotypical virtues mothers are ascribed with, the woman who's trying to kill Arthur this episode talks to Uther about how hard it must have been for Arthur to grow up without a mother. It's not a huge scene but its an insight into Arthur's character, he was brought up with all the hate and bullishness of Uther without a mother who could have taught him love and kindness. As we later learn Igraine's death triggered the great purge, her loss very much symbolises the loss of love within the kingdom, both in what Arthur's like at the beginning as well as what Camelot has become under Uther's leadership.

Gwen (and Merlin):

She is wonderful and sweet and interestingly (especially for an audience that knows Arthur is going to marry her one day) a servant. It is interesting that the two people who become in the show (and we know as an audience will one day be) closest to Arthur are servants.

The thing about Arthurian legend is that typically its very much set within a context of Medieval feudalism, which means stringent social barriers. The code of equality inherent in the idea of a Round Table is equality among nobles, the code of chivalry is a code of honour for knights not for ordinary people. It's a reflection of the social realities of the era that inspires much of the aesthetic of Arthurian legend as well as the era in which most key tenants of the legend were formed. In making Merlin (Arthur's teacher & (in this show) best friend/soulmate) and Guinevere (Arthur's wife) servants, this show is changing this idea for one more reflective of our own times. It is about absolute equality of all people, and as I've said already the inherent value that every single human being has and the individual capabilities for nobility and goodness and everything the Knights Code admires. It thus sets the tone for what Arthur is going to represent, not just the ideal of knighthood and courage but the ideal of kingship for all people and the ideal of the world that matters to every person.

The self reproducing nature of love and hate

This is an idea which I've always viewed as the main theme of Merlin, the idea that hate begets itself, as does love. This episode is a perfect encapsulation of that theme which recurs again and again. Uther kills a man who is innocent (in the sense that he didn't actually hurt anybody) and the man's mother seeks vengeance and in doing so kills more innocent people because she hates Uther enough that she doesn't care who else she hurts to get at him. This happens again and again in the show, but what this show does that I love is turn it into a main theme by depicting the reverse. Arthur and Merlin are great because they act against this world of Uther's creation, they act with love and compassion and respect for all people, the ends rarely justify the means and most importantly, especially when their actions seem morally grey, they are always motivated by their love for others (not fear or hate- unlike Uther and any number of villains). Uther is the main villain of the show precisely because it is his actions that create every other villain they encounter, Morgana sums it up nicely and somewhat ominously (given what side she ends up on)- "the more brutal you are the more enemies you'll create". Uther views that brutality as strength, but it is the weakness at the heart of his kingdom, it is what makes Camelot a worse place it is what puts everyone he cares about in danger. Essentially the plot of the first episode sets up the cycle of violence that Uther started, though it doesn't set up Merlin and Arthur as breaking it it does set up the idea of equality and respect for all people that Arthur will learn and is essentially opposed to the brutality and cruelty and hate represented by Uther.

Fun non-analysis things

It mightn't seem like it but I do actually watch Merlin for reasons other than copious analysis of themes. It is a highly enjoyable show with characters and relationships (Merthur but also just generally the wonderful representation of friendship and loyalty) I love, and its actually really funny.

Gwen saying "Who'd want to marry Arthur" is peak comedy because we all know, well you.

The weird set up in Gaius' first scene as him being bumbling and slightly insane (in the mad wise old man sort of way), there is literally no carry through, he's not even like this in the rest of the episode, but its hilarious so who cares.

Merlin and Arthur's whole exchange is the funniest thing and Arthur had every insult coming. Also this is exactly how you set up enemies to lovers.

All the writers names begin with J? It's just something I notice every time the intro credits roll and it's just funny (Julian Murphy, Johnny Capps, Jake Michie and Julian Jones)- also two Julian's, I mean what are the chances?

[jackoshadows]

While developing characters, writers use certain literary tools to add depth to these characters and advance the plot.

Literary Foils and Mirrors

This is arguably the simplest of the devices. Foil characters share few or no values or traits. Maybe one character is lazy and boring, and his best friend is energetic and a go-getter. These are foil characters. Put them together, and they’ll highlight each other’s strengths and weaknesses. The most common foil characters are the heroes and villains, who stand for different values and want to achieve separate goals.

Mirror characters are used for a similar purpose. They tend to share several qualities and are used to complement and highlight each other’s traits. Common mirror characters embark on parallel plots, sometimes to achieve a single goal, which tests them and highlights their traits in different ways.

Arya Stark and Sansa Stark for example are literary foils.

Arya was one of the first characters created. Sansa came about as a total opposite b/c too many of the Stark family members were getting along and familes aren’t like that. Thus, Sansa was created; he ended by saying they have deep issues to work out. - GRRM

GRRM SSM November 11, 2000

You may be as different as the sun and the moon - Ned Stark, AGoT

Foils have contrasting personalities, a different set of values and are often used to highlight a character’s particular qualities. Snobby Sansa is used to highlight Arya’s socializing with the smallfolk and non-conformist Arya is used to highlight that Sansa is a proper lady. Arya rushes to help the butcher’s boy, Sansa is more concerned for the prince.

And then we have the mirror characters who share similar traits and qualities, again used to highlight and complement our characters. They may have parallel plots, give hints and clues as to how one characters journey could end the same or be different to the other.

In ASoIaF, Arya Stark and Lyanna Stark are mirror characters, in that, the author is using a tertiary character like Lyanna to complement and give us more information about our main character Arya.

“Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her.”

“Lyanna was beautiful,” Arya said, startled. Everybody said so. It was not a thing that was ever said of Arya. - Arya, AGoT

So here the author gives us some information about how Arya might look in the future as well as demonstrates Arya’s low self-esteem with regards to her appearance.

Lyanna is used to highlight Arya’s interest in wielding a sword:

Beyond, in a clearing overlooking the river, they came upon a boy and a girl playing at knights. Their swords were wooden sticks, broom handles from the look of them, and they were rushing across the grass, swinging at each other lustily. "Arya?" she called out incredulously. Joffrey glanced from Arya to Sansa and back again. "Your sister?" She nodded, blushing. - Sansa, AGoT

Now two children danced across the gods wood, hooting at one another as they dueled with broken branches. The girl was the older and taller of the two. Arya! Bran thought eagerly, as he watched her leap up onto a rock and cut at the boy.  But that couldn’t be right. If the girl was Arya, the boy was Bran himself, and he had never worn his hair so long. And Arya never beat me playing swords, the way that girl is beating him. - Bran, ADwD

Bran sees a vision that parallels Arya/Mycah and even Arya/Bran with Lyanna and Benjen. Notice how Sansa is both incredulous and embarrassed at Arya dueling with Mycah -  highlighting the differences between Arya and Sansa and at the same time paralleling Arya and Lyanna.

Horse riding.

You ride like a northman, milady,” Harwin said when he’d drawn them to a halt. “Your aunt was much the same. Lady Lyanna. But my father was master of horse, remember.” - Arya, AGoT

It hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than her sister was ride a horse. Well, that and manage a household. - Arya, AGoT

Notice how Arya and Lyanna are paralleled to highlight that Arya is a good horse rider, like the Northerners. And again, notice the contrast to Sansa. One character is a mirror here and one character a foil.

And again, with the flowers:

Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. […] “I bring her flowers when I can,” he said. “Lyanna was … fond of flowers.” - Ned. AGoT

Then to Sansa she said, “When we were crossing the Neck, I counted thirty-six flowers I never saw before, and Mycah showed me a lizard-lion.” - Sansa, AGoT

One day she came back grinning her horsey grin, her hair all tangled and her clothes covered in mud, clutching a raggedy bunch of purple and green flowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell Arya to behave herself and act like the highborn lady she was supposed to be, but he never did, he only hugged her and thanked her for the flowers. That just made her worse. - Sansa, AGoT

Text that is used to mirror Arya and Lyanna as liking flowers. We have Ned taking flowers to Lyanna and Arya bringing flowers to Ned. And again we have Sansa disparaging this. Mirrors and foils.

We have Arya and Lyanna stepping in to help people. Mirrors used to highlight Arya’s personality.

“Stop it!” Arya screamed. She grabbed up her fallen stick. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince’s head - Sansa, AGoT

They shoved him down every time he tried to rise, and kicked him when he curled up on the ground. But then they heard a roar. ‘That’s my father’s man you’re kicking,’ howled the she-wolf.” The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. - Bran, ASoS

Arya and Lyanna step in to help their father’s men and people like Howland Reed and Mycah. Sansa stepped in to help her Lannister prince.

Lyanna is deemed wilful and wild and comparisons are made to Arya.

“She was,” Eddard Stark agreed, “beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time.” - Arya, AGoT

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful.  - Jon, AGoT

“[…] This willfulness of yours, the running off, the angry words, the disobedience … at home, these were only the summer games of a child. Here and now, with winter soon upon us, that is a different matter. It is time to begin growing up.” Arya, AGoT

So we get a warning for Arya that her predecessor with a similar personality had a tragic ending. Will Arya head down the same path or will she make different choices from her mirror character?

And then there is Arya’s relationship with Lyanna’s son Jon Snow. The fact that Arya, Jon and Lyanna all look the same - and have the Stark look.

I think the writing in the books makes it clear that Arya and Lyanna are literary mirrors and Arya/Lyanna are literary foils to Sansa.

In what way is Lyanna a mirror for Sansa? How does Lyanna in any way complement Sansa as a character? What information about Sansa do we get from the Lyanna call backs in the text? What can we glean about Sansa’s personality and how she would react from Lyanna’s traits? There is no information about any of this in the books.

Which is why it’s baffling when some sections of fandom keep talking about the many parallels between Sansa and Lyanna. There are no parallels here, none.

We first hear of Lyanna when Robert mentions that unlike his failed engagement to Ned’s sister, this time around, Ned’s daughter and Robert’s son can marry to unite house Baratheon and Stark. This is GRRM setting up the scenario to subvert tropes.

Readers expect that Lyanna is a Sansa like character but as we keep reading, it’s revealed that the daughter who is similar to Lyanna is Arya and not Sansa. Even Arya is surprised when Ned tells her that it is she who will have Lyanna’s beauty.

Lyanna and Robert do not get married because Lyanna went against the wishes of her family. Meanwhile Sansa wanted to marry Joffrey against the wishes of her father. Character foils. If anything the Robert/Lyanna and Joffrey/Sansa pairing demonstrates how much Sansa and Lyanna are as much foils as Sansa and Arya.

Lyanna could see through Robert, that not even his closest friend Ned could do. She was not taken in by appearances.

“Robert will never keep to one bed,” Lyanna had told him at Winterfell, on the night long ago when their father had promised her hand to the young Lord of Storm’s End. “I hear he has gotten a child on some girl in the Vale.” Ned had held the babe in his arms; he could scarcely deny her, nor would he lie to his sister, but he had assured her that what Robert did before their betrothal was of no matter, that he was a good man and true who would love her with all his heart. Lyanna had only smiled. “Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man’s nature.” Ned, AGoT

Unlike Sansa, she did not believe that fairy tales were real. She was not idealistic about love. Contrast her with Sansa - who continued to love her sweet, beautiful prince after seeing him sadistically maul another child and try to harm her sister and after her own father warns her that Joffrey was not good

At first she thought she hated him for what they’d done to Lady, but after Sansa had wept her eyes dry, she told herself that it had not been Joffrey’s doing, not truly. The queen had done it; she was the one to hate, her and Arya. Nothing bad would have happened except for Arya.She could not hate Joffrey tonight. He was too beautiful to hate - Sansa, AGoT

“Once she had loved Prince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted her his mother, the queen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father's head. Sansa would never make that mistake again.”   - Sansa, ACoK

Much is made of Lyanna crying over Rhaegar’s song. As if this is a quality specific only to Sansa in ASoIaF. Cersei talks about how Rhaegar made her weep with his silvery harp. Arya likes songs and Arya cries. Arya and Sansa just like different songs and we have no idea what Rhaegar’s song was even about. Arya named her direwolf pup Nymeria from the songs.

Arya named hers after some old witch queen in the songs - Bran, AGoT

Arya wanted to become an outlaw like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs.

Tom and Hot Pie resumed their song on the other side of the brook, with the duck hanging from Lem’s belt beneath his yellow cloak. Somehow the singing made the miles seem shorter. - Arya, ASoS

Ygritte cries over songs about the last of the giants and Ygritte reminds Jon of Arya. Again, Ygritte and Arya are literary mirrors to remind Jon of his sister and highlight Arya’s personality and other characteristics.

She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs and skins she wore. - Jon, ASoS

"If you kill a man, and never meant', he's just as dead," Ygritte said stubbornly. Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever? - Jon, ASoS

There were tears on Ygritte’s cheeks when the song ended. “Why are you weeping?” Jon asked. “It was only a song. There are hundreds of giants, I’ve just seen them.” “Oh, hundreds,” she said furiously. “You know nothing, Jon Snow.” - Jon, ASoS

Ygritte displays both grief and anger at the fate of the giants in the song -  emotions that Arya often exhibits.

So GRRM compares two women who cry listening to songs with Arya in the text and yet the parallel here is somehow with Sansa?

Besides, let’s not forget Lyanna’s reaction to Benjen laughing at her crying:

The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle, but when her pup brother teased her for crying she poured wine over his head - Bran, ASoS

Who does this remind us of?

“You be quiet, stupid,” the girl (Lyanna) said, tossing her own branch aside. - Bran, ADwD

Who does this remind us of?

GRRM is deliberately writing in Lyanna Stark as a literary mirror to Arya Stark in the books. There are three possible reasons for this. One, to highlight and complement Arya’s personality and add depth to her character. Two, to highlight her strong connection to the North. And three, for a plot that he’s leading us towards, that will either parallel or connect to Lyanna’s story in some way.

GRRM sees no such need to connect Sansa and Lyanna because that is not Sansa’s story. Her similarities are with her mother Catelyn Stark. Her story has been revolving around Littlefinger for 5 books and Littlefinger is infatuated with her because she looks like Catelyn. The author has even talked about it.

My Littlefinger would have never turned Sansa over to Ramsay. Never. He’s obsessed with her. Half the time he thinks she’s the daughter he never had—that he wishes he had, if he’d married Catelyn. And half the time he thinks she is Catelyn, and he wants her for himself. He’s not going to give her to somebody who would do bad things to her. That’s going to be very different in the books. - GRRM

If there is an aunt that the character parallels, it is Lysa Arryn and not Lyanna Stark. Will Sansa fall to Littlefinger’s machinations and suffer the same fate as her mother and her aunt? Or will she forge a different path when facing same tests?

So why the obsession with Sansa and Lyanna parallels?

Sansa stans have this weird way of reading the text where everything is subconscious and not written on the page. This idea that what’s on page is not important but some sneaky, secretive subtext is what’s actually going foreshadow future events. So GRRM investing in Jon and Arya’s relationship in the text of the books means that Jon and Sansa are going to end up together. Or GRRM is making subconscious parallels between Lyanna and Sansa.

Sorry, but that’s not how GRRM writes. Everything that GRRM wants us to read and connect to is on the page.

“I’ve been planting all these clues that the butler did it, then you’re halfway through a series and suddenly thousands of people have figured out that the butler did it, and then you say the chambermaid did it? No, you can’t do that,” Martin reportedly said while addressing whether fan theories and online speculation influence his writing process for the “Song of Ice and Fire” series of novels on which HBO’s adaptation is based.

It’s easy to do things that are shocking or unexpected, but they have to grow out of characters. They have to grow out of situations. Otherwise, it’s just being shocking for being shocking. But this is something that seems very organic and natural, and I could see how it would happen.

Then there’s the misogyny. Beauty, songs, romance and love should only be associated with Sansa. Arranged marriages are only for Sansa, being used as a pawn for power is only Sansa. Only Sansa suffers the separation from family. Can’t associate any of that with Arya because she is ‘masculine’. Despite Catelyn arranging a marriage for Arya with a Frey and despite Ramsay marrying Arya to hold the North, only Sansa is the key to the North. Arya sees through Elmar Frey as easily as Lyanna sees through Robert Baratheon, but it’s only Sansa who is associated with an unwanted betrothal.

Every female character in this series has a betrothal plot, every female character is used as a pawn at one point - even Daenerys. We know nothing about Lyanna’s story - whether she was in love with Rhaegar, what she was doing in the Tower of Joy, why she eloped. We know nothing, just assumptions and headcanons. This is a character of whom we only get flashes here and there to add to Arya’s character for  plot reasons and the mystery of Jon’s parentage.

In my opinion, this obsession that Sansa stans have with connecting the character to Lyanna arises from a need to prove Sansa’s Northern/Stark credentials. Sansa stans are fanatical about the North. Parallels to Catelyn and Lysa evoke Sansa’s Tully lineage rather than her Stark one and for people that are obsessed with the North, this will not do.

Unless it’s the idiotic Ned/Cat Jonsa parallels where they theorize that Jon is attracted to a girl who looks like the woman who emotionally abused him 😒. Of course, with the new batch of Sansa stans who ship Jonsa there is now an added reason for pushing the Lyanna-Sansa parallels as a connection they want for Jon and Sansa.

So, in the text of the story, the author writes Arya Stark and Lyanna Stark as mirrors and Arya Stark and  Sansa Stark as foils. The author does not intend to have Lyanna and Sansa act as mirrors in my opinion. Rather, an examination of what little we know of Lyanna shows her to be a complete contrast to Sansa in all ways.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 5

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Wrong Answer

Readers who have read novels such as transmigration, quick transmigration, and system plotlines, know that if the fate of the character in the story must be changed, it should be prevented before the character's tragic fate has occurred. However, Song Qingshi interpreted this as the event having already occurred, and was meant to save the character who had already suffered a tragic fate. This train of thought meant that his decision was a thousand miles off.

In the original book, Yue Wuhuan only appeared three times:

The first time was when the shou protagonist had just been sold to Golden Phoenix Manor. When he saw the unbearable scene of Yue Wuhuan being played with by the guests, his three views shattered.

The second time was when the protagonist's naive illusion of the future was destroyed and he was forced to accept his identity because of the ridicule and humiliating remarks of Yue Wuhuan.

The third time, Yue Wuhuan was taken out by Jin FeiRen on the Langgan stage to treat the guests and was accidentally torn to pieces by the demon tiger. Jin FeiRen concealed the actual explanation of the demon tiger's madness and treated it as a deliberately arranged game for the banquet. With this extreme fear, he shattered the last trace of the protagonist's dignity, making him completely surrender and become a plaything.

In short, Yue Wuhuan was a small supporting role with little substance, leaving the plot early, using his degeneracy to offset the beauty of the protagonist. His beauty was only like that of a beautiful flower that was about to wither. How can it be compared with the pure and clean flower bud that had not yet bloomed in the dawn?

This was a super simple multiple-choice question that every reader could figure out!

If the system was a living thing and watching over the exam being taken, it would be so angry that it would have come out and beaten that foolish Song Qingshi to death.

Scholar-Tyrant Song didn't know that he had drifted so far from the original goal, but he was still eagerly confident, trying to do his best and vowing to get a perfect score!

On the way back to the Valley of the Medicine King, Song Qingshi had recalled all the memories of his original body and integrated it with its massive knowledge of medicine and alchemy. There were rare and exotic herbs and miraculous medicines in the cultivation world. However, similar to traditional Chinese medicine, even if the medicine worked wonders, the science behind the effects of these medicines was still a mystery.

Modern medicine conducts systematic research on traditional Chinese medicine to find out the monarch-minister-auxiliary relationship within its components, extracted the useful ingredients in each concoction, and then developed medicine that was easier to take and had even better results.

A female scientist won the Nobel Prize for this, benefiting the world. Song Qingshi focused on modern medicine, leaped away from the traditional path of immortality, and quickly found new ideas for solving problems for many areas that the original body had failed to properly study. He used the Tiangong Pavilion to make modern scientific instrument substitutes, and then analyze the effective ingredients in the immortal medicines, purify them, research them, and even artificially synthesize them. . .

In Song Qingshi's mind, there were countless experimental schemes in an endless stream, and there were tens of thousands of books and inexhaustible medicinal materials in the Medicine King's Valley, as well as abundant research funds.

He was overjoyed, like a mouse that fell into a vat of rice. He wanted to kiss the system if he could.

Song Qingshi fully understood why the original body lived here, staying in such a cultivation paradise. He could live here for the rest of his life!

He could immerse himself in the ocean of intense studying and research every day. He could dedicate his life and soul to his favourite medical god. No one could send him back!

Song Qingshi looked at Yue Wuhuan in his arms. The more he looked at him, the more he loved him.

This was the big treasure that had given him everything! He would do everything he could to save him, just like his parents used to treat him before; indulged, spoiled, loved, and giving him all the good things he needed so that he can live a happy life like a prince in a fairy tale!

Song 'a father's love is like a mountain' Qingshi was full of ambition. He suppressed his excitement and immediately placed Yue Wuhuan in the side hall of his bedroom. He did everything by himself. First, he poured the elixir carefully with the crane-mouthed pot to re-invigorate the breath of life. Then he changed into white clothes, put on a homemade mask, and found a pair of extremely thin animal leather gloves. After he finished disinfecting the wounds, gently cut off the blood-soaked gauze and feather skirt on Yue Wuhuan's body with scissors, rinsed the wounds, and then sutured them with very fine silkworm thread. Then, he cut off the shackles and treated his ankle wounds.

Song Qingshi's movements were extremely gentle and quick, barely touching any skin, but Yue Wuhuan's body was extremely sensitive. He twitched slightly and groaned a few times before falling asleep again. Song Qingshi took the opportunity to take some blood samples for analysis, and also performed a full-body scan of him with his mental probe. He was a good-tempered person, but after seeing the disastrously ruined dantian and meridians in Yue Wuhuan's body, he couldn't help but curse darkly at those beasts. He scolded them repeatedly, thinking about how he was going to explain this situation to him once he woke up.

Song Qingshi was not good at communicating with strangers. He was able to make do when discussing his interests, but his thoughts often went blank when forced into small talk. For example, when everyone watched the popular men's group selection variety show together and argued over who was the male god?

He answered sincerely that it was Asclepius, the god of medicine. . .

Song Qing hasn't understood why everyone said he killed the conversation.

He thought hard for a long time and remembered that when his Lou Gerhig's hadn't been as advanced, he worked in a hospital for an internship. His senior brother knew that Song Qinshi was afraid of social interaction and would end up a stuttering mess when he tried to have conversations with his patients. He taught Song Qingshi: "Push down all of your feelings and act like a medical machine. First write down their case in detail and their treatment plan, recite it with a smile, and then end with a comforting sentence." Song Qingshi took this secret technique, practiced many times in front of the teacher, and, finally, he could talk to patients without fear.

A hospital is a place for treatment, just like how the Medicine King's Valley is a place for treatment. What's the difference?

After Song Qingshi had this epiphany, he replaced Yue Wuhuan’s bed sheets and bedding with the white ones commonly used in hospitals. He ordered the valley servant to make several sets of patient clothes, put them on by himself, and then tied roots on his wrist to represent the hospital information band. With a red wristband and a sign on the bed with "Special Care" and the instructions for how to care for him, Song Qingshi instantly felt calm in this makeshift hospital environment.

He wasn't comfortable with the type of care that the valley servantswere giving and took on nursing himself. He was careful and not afraid of getting tired. He wiped down Yue Wuhuan's body and washed his face, fed him medicine and water, and even replaced the bedding to deal with all kinds of filth.

When Yue Wuhuan woke up three days later, he was confused. He didn't know where he was. He stared at the white veil on the top of the bed in a daze for a long time. He finally realized that he was still alive and he hadn't been this relaxed in a long time.

He closed his eyes, faintly recalling the slight fragrance of medicine lingering from his dream and the hands that had gently released all the restraints for him. He took a deep breath. He didn't want to wake up and face the never-ending nightmare.

After who know's how long, Yue Wuhuan threw his eyes open, remembering where he had smelled the fragrance of the medicine. He slowly turned his head and looked at the round table next to him, but saw that Medicine Master Xianzun was attentively making changes to the cursive writings on the table. He was frowning, his expression serious, as if thinking about something bad. There was also a familiar spirit bead in the silver plate next to him, and it became obvious that he had been given to another guest to be played with.

Yue Wuhuan’s phoenix eyes shrank. The rumors of the perverse and evil deeds of the Medicine Master Xianzun appeared in his mind, but he was not afraid. Whether he was willing or unwilling meant nothing under the control of the spirit bead. Besides, his broken body was no longer worthy of being cherished. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and struggled to get out of bed, but a sharp pain came from his shoulder, which made him dizzy and he fell right back down. Song Qingshi never had any distractions when he was researching. He heard the movement and found that the patient was awake. He was afraid that Yue Wuhuan might have moved his body and reopened the wound. He quickly reprimanded him with a stern tone: "You, go to bed right away! You are not allowed to get off for ten days!"

This stern technique was a secret taught by the head nurse of the hospital. It had a good effect on treating patients who didn't follow the doctor's advice.

"Ten days?" Yue Wuhuan was stunned. He couldn't help but look at Song Qingshi up and down. The more he looked, the more he felt that his appearance was deceiving. He had been with guests for many years, and he was used to seeing many lustful scenes, but he never would've guessed that this person had such prowess in the bed. . .

Seeing that he hadn't gotten back on the bed, Song Qingshi put down his pen, walked over and picked him up with his own hands.

Yue Wuhuan remained unmoved, stretched out his hand and gently hugged his neck. Hot fingertips touched his cool skin, as smooth as cool jade, and the clear and clean scent of medicine wrapped around him gently like if he was in a dream. Yue Wuhuan couldn't help but shake for a moment. He chasticized his heart for still not knowing how to behave, then resumed his usual posture, and breathed out ambiguously: "I hope that Xianxun will take pity. . ."

"Don't worry, I will." Song Qingshi put him back on the bed carefully, then pulled the blanket up. He wrapped him up tightly, and solemnly told him, "The valley is wet and cold. You have a mortal body so be careful of the cold and stay under the blanket. Keep your hands and feet tucked in and don’t kick off the sheets."

Yue Wuhuan had never seen this trick in bed before and was at a bit of a loss.

"You;re a patient now. Let me tell you about your situation." Song Qingshi turned back to the table, picked up a stack of paper covered with words. He nervously pushed the non-existent glasses on the bridge of his nose, and read with a smile, formulating his tone. "The patient is Yue Wuhuan. There are three lacerations from the right shoulder to the chest, which are 18 cm, 14 cm and 12 cm long. The right shoulder bone is fractured, and the suprascapular artery has been ruptured. The right elbow has a skin contusion. The left and right wrists have skin tissue bruises, the left and right knees are bruised along with the left and right ankle tissue. The buttocks skin has soft tissue lacerations. There are signs of drug abuse in the body and potentially drug addiction. Do you understand?"

Yue Wuhuan only felt that his stiff smile must look increasingly forced. The more he thought about it, the crazier everything seemed. All he could do was nod his head and pretendto understand.

"Very good." Song Qingshi felt that what he said was both detailed and easy to understand, and began to recite the preliminary treatment plan. "Your dantian and meridians have been destroyed, and your body is seriously damaged. Your body is too fragile right now to use stronger medicine, so you cannot take Rejuvenation Pill, Gather Breathe and Disperse Pill, All Creation Pill or the Bone Growth Pill. You need to be treated with mortal medicine first, and then treated with the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath. Then you'll take the Rising Dragon Pill and Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill."

Yue Wuhuan finally understood what he was saying. These pills were common immortal medicines, and he had also taken it when he was seriously injured.

The All Creation Pill and Rising Dragon Pill were worth thousands, and he had heard that the poster of Jape Pearl Tower's Lord had used it for his own treasure.

He didn't know what the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath was, but the Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill was the treasure of the immortal world. It is made of ten thousand year-old blood lotuses. There were only nine in the world and only few know where their locations. He only knew that the master of Xuanji Palace had used it and ascended to Fen Shen; the lord of Fluttering Snow Fortress turned against his Daoist companion and killed him and his wife to win the treasure; one appeared in the Qizhen Pavilion auction, and it was won by the owner of the East Sea Langya Pavilion with hundreds of thousands of high-grade spirit stones. For some reason, Jin FeiRen wasn't able to participate in the auction. He always brought it up as one of the greatest regrets in his life.

If it were described in mortal terms, it would be like saving a beggar on the side of the road and saying that you would give him precious delicacies, golden houses, jade horses, and billions in wealth. FInally, you tell him you'll give him the fade seal of the country and all lands under the heavens. Only an idiot would believe these claims.

Yue Wuhuan laughed but his heart was cold. He basically confirmed that Song Qingshi was just toying with him.

He had also encountered many such sweet talkers, pretending to show compassion for some and pity for others. All he wanted, though, was to coax his slaves to play this game with him. He only lusted after his dirty body, in the end.

Song Qingshi finished off with some final closing words: "Don't worry, as long as you follow the doctor's advice and cooperate with the treatment, you'll be cured."

"Okay," Yue Wuhuan's phoenix eyes showed a bit of flattery, and he replied in a sultry voice: "This slave depend on Xianzun for everything. . ."

"I almost forgot." Song Qingshi looked into his eyes and suddenly remembered something. He put on the animal skin gloves again, picked up a luminous bead the size of a goose egg and placed it in a strange, long, tube-shape lampshade. Then he sat on the side of the bed, leaned over and looked at Yue Wuhuan. He gave him a serious warning: "This may be a little uncomfortable, please bear with me."

Yue Wuhuan smiled self-deprecatingly. He let the phoenix eyes show waves of desire, and he relaxed his body, waiting to be played with.

Song Qingshi stretched out his hand and opened his eyes, illuminating the inside of the eyes with the luminous bead. He carefully observed for a while, then whispered: "The problem of the lacrimal secretion system is not visible on the outside, so I still have to do a colored dye inspection..."

Yue Wuhuan: "???"

[cloudycrystalkpop]

SMOKY | Hell Below

Blind! Prince! Mingi x [unstated skin deformity] fem! reader

Words: 2k+

Warnings: self harm, possessiveness, demonic interaction

au: crown royal au | moodboard

series masterlist: SMOKY

~

Seonghwa paced back and forth in front of your door. He was placed on guard duty this evening and it was slowly torturing him.

Normally he would never complain, more than happy to forgo his own rest to know that his princess slept safe and sound. However, he was very aware that at the moment, his princess was not sleeping at all.

He gritted his teeth as he heard your voice moan out a name in pleasure. The name of your husband. A name that wasnt his.

Seonghwa squared his shoulders. He had made you a promise, one a very very long time ago.

When he was the man having you sing such pretty praises. When he wrote his name in calligraphy with his tongue between your thighs.

A promise he painted into your skin, one very late night. Kissing every patch that made you shy. Every inch that your family frowned upon. Every piece you had ever wanted to burn off.

"I will protect you, until the day my heart stops beating, And surely even after."

he is more than just a knight. No, after holding you, bare as the day you were born, shaking in his arms. After the words of hate and disgust at the case your very soul lived in, at watching you take blades to try and peel the unwanted flesh away, he would never ever let you hurt yourself again.

He would never abandon you, even if you took his heart right out of his chest, it was always yours anyway.

Seonghwa held his head in his hands. He was always yours anyway.

"They sure are loud huh?" Seonghwa jumped and reached for the sword on his belt at the voice.

"Sorry, bad night?" Hongjoong asked, standing before the heartbroken man.

"Yeah just, stuck in my own head." Seonghwa admitted. The other man nodded, scanning him with curious eyes.

"You and your princess sure are, close." he stated. The words curled on his tongue, watching Seonghwa flitched as the sound of a high pitched groan came from the lover's room.

"We... Used to be." he replied.

"I see. Makes sense why youre not so fond of that Duke." he quirked an eyebrow, a sly grin pulling at his features. "Hey, you wanna know a secret~" the man purred.

"Not tonight Hongjoong. Im not in the mood for your teasing." Seonghwa frownd.

"Hmm~ if you say so." his smile pulled into a playful childlike one, before Hongjoong skipped off down the hall, leaving Seonghwa alone with his thoughts once more.

~

Hongjoong purred to himself as he glanced over his shoulder as the knight stood at the lovers door. Lust is a very powerful tool in his bag of tricks, one that, it looks like, will do him very, very well.

~

you spent your days now often with Yeosang, his experience and wisdom helping you greatly in easing your nerves. he told you many stories, explained much about the kingdom you had never dared to venture around in.

whenever you did leave your family's estate, it was always with Seonghwa as your loyal guard. a long veil to hide you away from the world, or heaven forbid you simply, existing taint your family name.

you remembered the day The King died. he was an old man, had been sick for years. while not beloved by his people, he was well respected, and yet. when he passed, no one knew anything about him. there was no mourning, for there was no loss.

The Queen had fully stepped into power then, ten years younger than her husband she was more than capable of leading. and so it had been since your early teens. The Queen was now however, ready to pass her power, rather than see it out live her too, just like her husband.

and that, was where the crown prince and princess had come in. the pair lost at sea in a tragic shipwreck, the kingdom scrambling to find a new replacement. you and Mingi were nobles, sure. second rate royals even, your father once a prince, a second born. Mingi was next in line to become a Duke, chosen over Yeosang for your hand in marriage for, such a trivial reason. or so you thought.

“my family comes from the Valley, My Lady. Lord Mingi’s comes from the Sea.” Yeosang explained, an, almost forlorn look in his eye. “when yourself and your husband were married, it showed a joining of the land and the sea. loosening trade deals with other lands, its... business I'm afraid.”

“that’s all marriage is good for after all anyway. its just business.” you gazed off out the window, watching the roses sway in the morning breeze. the garden was beautiful, flowers in full bloom.

“I’m sorry you feel so my lady. but, you must admit how darling and romantic an idea it is.” Yeosang followed your gaze.

“to be married?” you wondered.

“the prince of the sea, wed to the princess of the forest. and a man who cannot see, tied to a woman never allowed to be seen.” he hummed softly.

“sounds like a horrible tragedy of a play to me.” you shook your head, eyes falling to your lap. “I should have a word with the playwright.”

“would you have preferred a different ending?” Yeosang wondered, dropping his head down to force you to look him in the eye. you chuckled, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile.

“I haven't decided.” you answered. “...are the flowers in the valley in bloom this time of year?” you asked.

“oh yes. the wild flowers were always my favorite as a boy. my sisters and I used to go out and make crowns out of them.” his voice was soft, eyes far away. caught in a memory from boyhood.

“...will you take me there some time, Yeosang?” his gaze focused back on you once more.

“if you wish to see it My Lady.” he grinned. “I will braid you a crown so lovely the royal jewels will be jealous.”

“promise me?” your voice betrayed you. a crack of pain hidden away there.

such a very different ending you could have had. one where you could spend your life safe, hidden away from the judgment and piercing eyes your mother always frightened you of. flowers in your hair, children at your feet, a husband who could provide for your every need. free to play in the forest of your childhood. there was no judgment from the trees, nor would you find it in the open fields.

“you have my word... My Lady.”

but your life was no fairy tale. you were to be queen of a kingdom you barely knew. sure, you had a husband, a man to wear the title of “king”, but both you and Mingi knew, the queen is the most powerful piece on the board.

~

“My little Prince~” you called to the darkness of the room as you returned to your chambers for the evening. “Mingi?” you cooed once more, looking around for the tall man.

“we need to talk.” you nearly screamed, the voice was not your husband’s. upon turning on your heel, you came face to face with...

“Seonghwa! you nearly had me jump out of my skin!” you huffed, smacking the man on the side of his arm.

“hey! I'm sorry I scared you but, I'm serious.” he sighed, rubbing his arm.

“very well.” you huffed, seating yourself on the plush bed and waiting for his explanation. Seonghwa shuffled, changing his weight from one foot to the other, gaze fixed on the floor. “well? when did you become so awkward?”

“since I had to listen to you having sex for hours last night.” he growled. your ears glowed hot, but you choked the embarrassment down.

“I am sorry, I'm sure that was a bit.. uncomfortable-”

“you don’t get it do you, Princess.” he lifts his eyes to meet yours. “I love you.”

a lump forms in your throat. you do not move, only stare him down, unblinking, unreactive.

“I have been in love with you for almost five years now. I was the one who took your virginity, I was the one who held you when you cried, I was the only who protected you from the evils of this world. and I-” his voice cracked. Seonghwa, your loyal knight in shining armor, the one who had been by your side for the better half of your life, was in tears before you.

“I love you! I'd do anything for you! I've been with you since you were just a young girl! I've stood beside you through everything! and I can't pretend that it doesn't hurt me anymore!” his eyes sparkled with tears, cheeks damp and voice horse.

“... I-” you never got a chance to finish your thought as the door swung open once more.

Mingi stood in the doorway, blank eyes staring straight ahead of him, his face blank of any emotion.

“get. out. of. our. room.” never had you heard the intimidation in Mingi’s voice before. his voice rumbled deep in his chest, but his tone now, was that of a final, deadly warning.

Seonghwa stared at Mingi, shoulders taught, fists clenched. but he didn't say a word.

“...you are dismissed Seonghwa.” you finally broke the tense silence between the two man.

“as you wish, My Princess.” Seonghwa made his way towards the door, stepping past Mingi, only to be halted by said man shoving him against the wood, hard.

“if you dare, to even think of touching my wife, if even the thought of her in such context even passes your mind,” he growls. “I will have you executed for adultery.”

Mingi stepped away from a very shocked Seonghwa.

“she may be your Princess, but she will be your Queen. and never, for a moment forget, she will only be your queen, and she is my wife.” and with that he slammed the door shut.

~

Mingi developed a possessiveness over you, you must admit you didn’t expect. the once shy boy who could barely speak to you, now kept one hand on your person at all times you were together. when asked he said he preferred you guide him over a staff member. but you know by now Mingi knew this castle perfectly fine. he didn't need help or a guide anymore. he was lying.

he also got rather upset if you were left alone with another person too long, without himself or his chosen guard close by. his chosen guard? Hongjoong.

you woke one morning to find bruises so deep on your hips and chest they looked like black ink in the mirror. Mingi was marking you now. like you were something that belonged to him.

knowing who you needed to speak with, you snuck away one morning, before the sun rose. to find Hongjoong.

~

“your highness! what a pleasant surprise~” the handsome man cooed.

“may I speak with you? in private.” you glanced to the rest of the guard, Seonghwa the only one not meeting your gaze.

“oh? absolutely. please, come with me.” Hongjoong lead you out into the gardens, just as the first touches of dawn peeked over the skyline.

“alright creature. out with it. what have you done to the prince.” you growled, arms crossed as you glared at Hongjoong.

“such mean words from the ‘princess’ herself~” he smiled a grin, one a little too long and a little too wide for his face.

“why are you here?”

“what a stupid question! you already know that answer~ otherwise you wouldn’t have asked to speak to me, alone.”

“fine, who summoned you?”

Hongjoong chuckled, one in tone too deep for the voice he speaks with. “the dead king of course. but that was a long time ago you see.”

“speak to me truthfully creature, did you make a deal with Mingi?” you glared him down. while your experience with his kind was limited, you understood the one true weakness they had. they cannot directly lie.

Hongjoong grinned once more, that same unnatural once, the one that extended too far up his face, showing teeth a human man wouldn’t have. his eyes crinkled at the edges in the grin, the white parts of his eyes turning dark as a bruise.

“no.”

you held back a whimper at his voice. inhuman. demonic. bloodcurdling.

“...thank you. you are dismissed.” you blinked, and the man was back as he was. charming smile and handsome features glowing once again in the dawn.

“as you wish, your highness.” and with that, he walked back into the castle. leaving you alone in the garden, a ring of dead grass surrounding where the pair of you had stood.

[agwitow]

(Inspired by this prompt, and a quasi sequel to my laundress fic...)

There were vague rumours about the Duke --mostly mutterings from the elderly in town-- though the few times he had visited Fallholt, he had seemed to be a quiet but kind lord. Younger than expected, given the elders mutterings, though most assumed whatever dark rumours were half-remembered had been about the Duke's father or grandfather.

Those who worked at the Duke's castle had little more information about him. He mostly kept to himself, only interacting with a few elderly servants who had to have started working for his grandparents. Rarely did he even entertain other nobles.

Some said he was nursing a broken heart. That the one he'd intended to make his Duchess had left one day, without so much as a farewell. But no one had any recollections of such a person. Perhaps, like the other odd rumours, it was a story about a previous Duke. Perhaps it was just a fanciful tale invented by bored maids wanting to cast the Duke as some sort of tragic prince.

Whatever the truth, the invitations received by each family were met with a mix of excitement, confusion, and more than a little bit of suspicion.

His Grace, Lord Robyn de Nikoi, Duke of Fallholt, requests the presence of one person from each household for an evening of celebration and entertainment.

Those accepting, must be above the age of majority, and should be in good health.

The seal at the bottom of the letter depicted a stag with brambles wreathed around its neck. This, too, added to the confusion since the Duke's flag was a black rose against a field of green and yellow.

Some chose not to attend, even going so far as to offer their invitations to those houses where they couldn't settle on who would go. In the end, almost 150 people attended the Duke's celebration.

Distant though the castle was, lights and faint strains of music lingered long into the night. So long that no one was too surprised that none of the attendees had returned by morning.

By that evening though, with still no sign of their loved ones, the townsfolk began to whisper the old rumours to each other. Those who worked at the castle were questioned as soon as they returned to their homes that night.

Yes, there had been a grand party with much food and drink. No, they hadn't seen any of the missing townsfolk. No, there hadn't been anything strange about the post-party mess they'd had to clean. Yes, they would look around the castle the next day for some sign or clue about what might have happened.

The entire next day was full of worry and tension, as everyone waited for their loved ones to return, or for some answers from the castle servants.

At long last, the servants returned, though they had little enough to report.

There was still no sign of the missing people, but there was also no sign of the Duke. The elderly steward had seemed unconcerned when questioned, though he'd had no answers either.

The townsfolk decided enough was enough. They would march to the castle at first light and demand answers. Were their loved ones still alive? Where were they? Why were they being kept away?

Though it wasn't ever discussed, each person who volunteered to go on that march made sure to find a weapon and ready it for the morning. Just in case the worst had come to pass.

Whether word of the impending mob had reached the Duke, or if it was simply a coincidence, the missing townsfolk slipped back into town in the pre-dawn haze. Screams and shouts of joy, surprise, and fear rang in the new day as the townsfolk found their missing loved ones sleeping in their beds as if nothing had been amiss.

There was much rejoicing, though by midday it had died back into confusion.

The missing men, women, and people had very little memory beyond enjoying rich food and drink. They hadn't even realized that they'd been gone for more than a single evening.

Worse, still, was that not everyone who'd gone had returned. Eight people never came home.

When asked, the returned ones couldn't say what had happened, or where they might be, but each knew that those eight would never return.

This only fed the reinvigorated rumours about the Duke.

Slowly, life settled back into its old routine.

So what if, on occasion, one of those who'd gone would stop and stare off into the distance with a frown? Or be unable to sleep for days at a time? Was it really so strange that they were changed somehow?

Not until the blacksmith pulled a white-hot iron from the forge with her bare hands, did anyone say anything about the changes.

How the baker's son had broken a solid oak table while kneading bread. Or how one of the clerks had eyes which glowed a soft amber I'm the dark. How a cleric's skin had become rough and cold, like stone. Or a tailor's skin glittered like scales whenever wet.

Suddenly, the changes were the only thing everyone could talk about.

Some thought it a sign of evil magic and wanted to drive those affected out of town, before the corruption could spread.

Others worried that their loved ones had never actually returned and these people who looked and sounded and acted like them were little more than constructs.

A few wondered just how far the changes went.

But everyone agreed it was the Duke's fault.

He had done something to them. Something they hadn't asked for, or agreed to. Something beyond their control.

None were more angry than those affected.

They decided the Duke owed them answers, and a few volunteered to go to the castle and get them. One way or another.

The next day, the blacksmith, baker's son, a trapper whose touch could burn, and the stone-skinned cleric returned to the castle.

The elderly steward met them at the gates. "His Grace has been expecting you. Follow me, please."

They exchanged looks, but followed along to a small audience room. An oval table with twelve chairs took up much of the space, and tapestries depicting a variety of forest scenes covered most of the walls.

The Duke was already seated at the head of the table, with a banner on the wall behind his chair displaying the stag-and-brambles. In colour, and with carefully embroidered detail, it became clear that each thorn on the bramble wreath had drawn blood.

"I was beginning to wonder if any of you would ever come back," he said. "It would have been better if you'd come sooner, but we will make do. Ask your questions."

This was certainly not what any of them had expected, and it took a moment before the cleric asked, "What did you do to us?"

"Straight to the complicated ones, I see." He gave them a small smile before gesturing for them to take a seat. "Allow me to tell you a story about a young girl and a magic pond."

The baker's son frowned. "You mean the old fairy tale where she wishes to be a princess and the pond summons a fairy prince who kidnaps her?"

"Is that the version being told now? Fascinating how it changes over the years. Yes. That story. Though my version is... rather different from what you know."

"We didn't come here for bedtime stories," the trapper grumbled.

"Humour me, please. It will all make sense after."

When there were no other objections, the Duke began his tale.

"Once upon a time, there was a young girl. The daughter of a minor lord with no money and no land. She traveled from one place to another with her father, who was forever looking for a way to rise in wealth and status.

"Though there was no money for a dowry, the lord made a deal with a Duke. In exchange for his daughter, he would be given a bit of land to oversee. The Duke was old and cruel, and none of his previous wives had provided him with an heir. Most were rescued by family when his temper left bruises that couldn't be hidden. The others had died.

"A father who cared more for status than his daughter's wellbeing was the type of inlaw who suited the Duke best. So a date was set and the girl --a young woman, by this point-- was sent to the Duke's castle.

"Her life was not pleasant, in the weeks leading up to the wedding, and her only solace was in exploring the untamed woods around the castle. Whether through luck, fate, or mischief, she found a hidden pond deep within the forest.

"Things might have gone very differently if she hadn't seen the Duke before he saw her.

"She hid and watched as he stripped his clothes off and waded into the pool. Red, angry looking sores covered much of his flesh, and they spread further as the water touched them.

"The Duke called out, demanding fair trade.

"'Fair trade?' a fae said with a laugh, appearing at the other end of the pond. 'You have traded virility for strength, the life of one of your wives for money and power, and now think to bargain for your virility back without giving up your strength. That is no fair trade.'

"'I will not be weak. Name another price,' he demanded.

"The fae shook its head. 'You must trade something of equal, or greater value, to receive my gifts.'

"'The life of my next bride,' the Duke offered. 'Or my best hunting hound.'

"'I will not be fooled by you again. You place no value on the lives of your wives, and you are no hunter. Both a wife and a hound are no more than accessories to you. Neither is a fair trade.'

"The Duke raged and screamed, but his anger had no effect.

"When his tirade ended, the fae yawned. 'How many more times do you think you can enter my waters with ill-intent in your heart? Soon you will have little flesh untouched by the mark of your greed.'

"The Duke didn't bother to answer. He simply climbed out and put his clothes back on. Though the sores would have hurt a lot, the young woman had no sympathy for him.

"Once he was gone, the fae called for her. She crept out and stood at the edge of the pool.

"'Hello, young one,' they said. 'There is much you wish for. Would you care to make a deal?'

"She shook her head.

"'Come now. Surely there is something you wouldn't mind giving up in exchange to be free of the Duke? Even if he doesn't spill your blood as payment, he will kill you in some other way.'

"She shook her head again. 'I will not trade away my future or memories simply to be free of my present.'

"The fae nodded. 'Perhaps a different sort of deal would suit you then? And before you shake your head at me, let me show you what the future holds.'

"They swept their hand through the water and as the ripples spread, images formed depicting war, chaos, and death. In many, the Duke laughed as the ground turned dark with the blood of innocents.

"'What trickery is this?' she asked.

"The fae sighed, sounding tired. 'No trickery. This is the most likely future, as things stand right now. While the squabbles of mortals would not normally concern me, the consequences of this... it will drain the magic from the land.'

"'What does that have to do with me?'

"'I need a champion. Someone who can change the course of things.'

"'Why me?'

"The fae sighed again, this time in frustration. 'I am bound to this forest, and this pond. I can not leave, and the Duke has made sure most people avoid the forest. You are the first person, other than the Duke, I have spoke to in more than a decade.'

"'And what would being your champion mean?' she asked, still wary.

"The fae grinned. 'A bit of skill, a dash of luck, and a vow to protect the magic of the forest.'

"'Where is the trick? The part that makes the hero regret such a hasty bargain in all the stories.'

"They shrugged. 'Not much of a trick. If you fail to keep the magic strong, your life is forfeit. Though I suspect if that happens, you will be dead already.'

"Perhaps it was arrogance, or desperation to avoid marrying the Duke, but the young woman agreed. And true to their word, the fae provided skill and luck. Enough to rescue a kidnapped princess. Enough to stop an assassin. Enough to replace the Duke."

As the Duke's words faded into silence, the four townspeople frowned.

The cleric shook his head. "The first Duke of Fallholt was given this land after rescuing the Emperor's daughter and uncovering a plot against him by several of his nobles --one of whom had been the Duke ruling these lands before."

"Yes."

"But you're claiming it was a young woman who did those things."

The Duke scratched his chin. "Shortly after rescuing the princess, I realized that despite being born a 'girl,' I was not actually one. People were more willing to believe it was a young man doing all the heroics anyway."

"Wait. What? No. That doesn't make sense," the blacksmith said. "You can't have done any of those things. They happened over a hundred years ago."

The Duke laughed, sharp teeth flashing for a moment. "Yes, they did. And perhaps ten years after them, I met a peculiar laundress who offered my a unique gift."

The trapper's fists clenched, tiny flames licking across their knuckles. "What does all that have to do with us?"

The Duke sighed. "The war Vyrnaed saw was only delayed by my actions. It is still coming. And this time I cannot prevent it from starting. But, with help, I can keep these lands safe."

"What did you do to us?" the cleric repeated.

"I took you to see Vyrnaed. They showed each of you what the future holds and offered a choice. Be slaughtered as the war rolls over us, or be changed so that we can defend our homes." He grimaced and glanced down. "I had expected them to grant you all skills and luck, like they did for me, but... I suppose they thought it fitting that I should lead non-humans, since I haven't been one in a very long time."

The baker's son shook his head vehemently. "No. We should remember it, if what you're saying is true. We remember nothing. And what of the eight who didn't return home? What did you do to them?"

The Duke shrugged helplessly. "As powerful as Vyrnaed is, there is a limit to how much they can do in a night. In order to have enough power to affect all of you a trade had to be made."

"You traded our memories of the evening." The blacksmith's voice was cold and flat.

"No," the Duke said gently. "Each of you agreed. It was your trade to make."

"And the others?"

"I had specified in good health... they did not survive the change."

The four townsfolk stared. It was too fantastical. But they couldn't deny that none of them were quite human anymore.

The cleric broke the silence. "When is this war supposedly coming?"

"If Vyrnaed is right, we have a fortnight."

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hey! Do you know any royal!stiles with any ship? I just want to read him being a prince and/or a king

I got you.

I’ve Been Dreaming by 42hrb

(1/1 I 4,116 I Teen I Sterek)

The Sterek Enchanted AU no one asked for

(Welcome To) Far Far Away, or The Tale of Wolfskin and the Fox Prince by scarlettletterr

(4/4 I 14,716 I General I Sterek)

There's a wolf sleeping in the cabin on the outskirt of Beacon Hills, and a fox in the Prince's chambers. This is a tale of magic, of lemon cakes, and oblivious idiots falling in love in the country of Far Far Away.

---

aka. A Fairy Tale AU where Derek is Donkeyskin and Stiles is Fiona but also Aurora.

Prince of the Dead by GrimReaperlover11

(17/? I 39,111 I Teen I Sterek)

Persephone always wanted a child but hasn't been able to conceive with her husband Hades. However one day a seer tells her that she will finally be blessed with a child.

Many years pass until one spring as she strolls through a forest she comes across an abandoned infant. Taking this child to her husband the two Gods decide that they will become the parents of this mortal child fulfilling the prophecy.

Follow Stiles as he grows up in the underworld being raised as the child of the king of the underworld and the queen of springtime. witness as he tries to form bonds with mortals once he reaches the age of eighteen.

*I suck at summaries but trust me...i think you'll like it*

Missing Son of Beacon by mrdcoolblue

(4/4 I 41,298 I Teen I Sterek)

Sensing Stiles’s obvious discomfort, Peter used one well manicured hand to open a file folder in front of him and gleefully asked, “Shall I read to you these anomalies?”

“Please don’t,” Stiles begged.

Peter ignored him and slid the papers closer to read them. “Stiles McCall. Eighteen years old. Resident of Beacon Hills. Supposedly arrested for—” He hesitated with a quirk of his mouth.

“Possession,” Stiles groaned.

Peter downright leered. “What was that, Mr. McCall?” He was enjoying this way too much.

“Possession of sick abs,” Stiles finished, feeling miserable.

. . .

Beacon has three ruling families: the Martins, the Argents, and most importantly the Hales. No one really talks about the Stilinskis—who used to rule over them all—since Queen Claudia tragically died in a fire eight years ago and her only heir, Prince Mieczysław, went missing.

Of course, royal drama and unsolved arson cases were far from Stiles’s mind when he arrived at school with his brother Scott and best friend Danny like it was just a normal day. That is, until representatives from the royal palace show up looking for something.

Like Heaven Catching Lighting by weathervaanes 

(1/1 I 41,519 I Explicit I Sterek)

Prince Stiles of Cor has always known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was never truly going to marry for love. Fighting it has only made it worse. Now, presented with a choice between two children of the Hale family of Ignis, Derek and Cora, he must make the decision to determine who will rule by his side. If only it were that simple.

-0-

“Tell me,” he says, taking a drink. “If your sister does accept me as her husband, would you be pleased for her fortune or yours?”

Derek sets down the pitcher and moves further into the room, removing his vest and setting it over a chair. “I don’t believe that’s a fair question. If she finds happiness in your kingdom, by your side, of course I’ll be pleased for her.”

“And relieved, I imagine.”

Derek turns, arms crossed over his chest. “Would you be?”

 A Devotion by TroubleIWant

(9/9 I 77,076 I Mature I Sterek)

There’s a boy exiting the doors as they approach. Where Derek is tan from hours outside, the boy is pale except for a few beauty marks on one cheek. He’s dressed in fine riding clothes, and flanked by a guard wearing the sign of the royal house. A noble, then. He’s younger than Derek, but, considering his higher station, a bow would be appropriate. Despite that, Derek can’t help looking curiously at the boy, who’s looking back at Derek with just as much interest. For a moment, their eyes meet - the boy’s are a deep amber in the sunlit courtyard, ringed by long, tawny lashes.

A gloved hand smacks the back of Derek’s head and he instinctively flinches away, hunching his shoulders. He loses track of the other boy as they pass one another, and as he turns to get another look, the knight grabs his shoulder and marches him forward into the stable.

“Keep your eyes to yourself,” the knight instructs. “And next time, show the proper respect to Crown Prince Stiles.”

Or: A medieval AU that's a little Princess Bride, a little bit more Game of Thrones, and a healthy side-serving of gay erotica.

The Fox & The Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(10/10 I 79,151 I Explicit I Sterek)

The war between the fox and wolf clans has raged for centuries, ignited in a time before anyone can remember. Now both clans—tired of the bloodshed and hate—are searching for a way to end the war.

Crowned prince Stiles Stilinski—heir to the fox clan—has agreed with his father to meet with the Hales, the ruling royal family over the wolf clan. Under the counseling of the Druids, both clans are presented with a solution to the war: unite the Stilinski and Hale clans through marriage. To quell their people's anger, both Stiles and Derek—eldest living Hale Alpha—are urged to accept the other as an equal; as their mate.

For the sake of their people, both houses make the ultimate sacrifice by choosing duty over love. But, out of what was first assumed to be compromised, quickly turns to be a better match than either could have hoped for. But not all is easy for either clan, as some members refuse to believe that the war could end so easily.

A Desperate Arrangement by mikkimouse

(29/29 I 115,506 I Explicit I Sterek)

"I'm sorry, I believe there's something wrong with my hearing," Stiles said. "Because I could have sworn you just told me you set up a betrothal agreement with the Hales. A betrothal agreement involving me. Me."

Scott smiled his easygoing smile and nodded, which told Stiles no, he hadn't misheard a damn thing.

After seven years of lengthy negotiations, the treaty between the Hales and the Argents has fallen apart and the two countries fell into war.

Months later, there's an uneasy truce, thanks to the intervention of King Scott McCall, but it won't last. In a desperate attempt to maintain the peace, the Hales sign a treaty with the McCalls to marry Prince Derek to Prince Stiles Stilinski, King Scott's brother.

In the history of the world, there have been many better ideas.

Ours is the Fury by Haleofalannister

(8/? I 140,419 I Explicit I Sterek)

The Nine Realms of Westeros are united under the rule of King John Baratheon I. However, even in times of peace there is strife to be found. Bloody Civil Wars are being waged within houses; alliances are being forged through the back channels of Westeros; the ever present conflict between the Reach and Dorne is continuing to escalate; and the Targaryens are as mad as ever. One has to wonder what event will trigger the hairpin that is holding this strenuous peace together, and if one will still find a stag seated on the Iron Throne when the dust settles.