#For the record every single one of these plot choices is gold and I will defend all of them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wroteclassicaly · 1 year ago

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A/N: We’re blaming Joe for always acting up, and Steve for whining that I cheated on him, so he sent me mega inspiration for this one ☺️😛

Warnings: Language, overall NSFW, sub!Steve to the extreme, spit play, rough sex, leaving marks, cowgirl goes riding position, possessiveness, friends with benefits, best-friend!Steve, mentions scars, consensual smacking (m receiving), finger sucking, e.t.c. This is just no plot with some trash and love poured in ;)

You love it.. Just like this. His baby blue curtains blowing, whipped around by evening’s up and coming Autumn breeze, hints of salty summer trickling through, remaining, a few apple and cedarwood candles mingling with your perfume, Steve’s cologne, and the heavy scent of sopping wet sex. You’ve got a low lamplight to guide your two person show, in your element, unafraid, owning it, protecting him, taking for you. Some song rolls on his record player, one you often prefer over the stereo when you get into these types of moods. His body is your map and you’re the Queen explorer, pleasuring yourself with each and every treasure that he has to offer.

The black gloss of a fresh manicure stares back up at you from where you’re clawing into his hairy chest, chestnut tufts matted down by perspiration and your drying salvia. Okay, so you’d gone a little crazy when you marked him, but it’s not your fault that the little gold chain he wears looks so good laying against his golden baked skin, begging for contrasting shades of magentas and navy blues. You’d done one of Steve’s favorite things, after all: healing his scars by using your mouth to carefully taste each one, every single time. He didn’t have much time to worry about them, because there you’d be, understanding, helping. He whines loudly, a sound that causes you to clench around him, making you struggle to retain your control.

Your bouncing on his thick cock ceases, that creamy squish causing a wet ring to circle his base and smear across his navel. Holy fuck, you’re really wet tonight…

And Steve, god love him. He can’t even look. Mossy eyes blown black, his eyes have rolled up and are caught between clenching shut and closing entirely. Your hand leaves his chest and cracks across his stubble littered jaw, nails pinching in to jerk his gaze towards you. He throbs, jumps inside your walls, that sucks him in deeper.

“Wake up, Harrington! Am I boring you?”

He shakes his head so fast that you bury a snort deep within, humming out instead. “You gonna talk to her again? Look at her again?”

The start of your possessive streak being upped tonight. In the downtown costume store, Bambi Anderson had found Steve with a fascination that gagged, modeling her cat costume and practically draping herself across his arm to ask what his plans were. And he’d crossed his arms beneath that black, vee neck long sleeve, chest hair and chain on display, dark jeans tight and leaving nothing to the imagination, secured by a black belt with a thick silver buckle. He’d worn new black boots, a differing choice for his growing style. A leather jacket was tossed lazily over his shoulder, pissing you off.

When you’d left the store, Steve had taken you back to his. And well, you’d taken him. On your knees against his front door to get him hard, quick enough to have your way with him. You didn’t want fingers or mouth, you needed to show him who belonged inside of.

“No, fuck no —“ Steve stops himself, choking on spit, inhaling and exhaling sharply. “Fuck, I don’t even remember what happened, honey.”

“Walking around teasing me like you do. Wearing tight jeans, smelling like a fucking male model ad, licking your mouth when you put tapes away. And that chain? I mean… showing it with your chest hair, Steve? Jesus Christ… You really do need to be watched at all times.”

He’s nodding, agreeing, that aching heat builds to a wet crescendo, threatening to drench you both.

You lean down a little closer, one hand wrapping around the tendons in his wrist, the other still keeping you balanced on his chest so you can keep moving your hips, dragging his fat cockhead against that spot inside that he’s called his for years. Your mouth is hot when you pant the words by his lips. “You deserve to be sat on. Just pull your pants and underwear down, have a seat on you all day. Cockwarm you so these bitches know where you belong, who you belong to.”

“Baby —“ You’re lifting his own wrist, cutting off his sentence, pulling apart three of his own fingers and pressing them into his lips. “Fucking suck! I’m talking now. I’ll let you know when you can answer me, slut!”

His hips arch off the bed, giving a piston into you, before remembering his place and suckling his fingers onto that hot tongue that’s had you seeing stars and planets. He doesn’t break eye contact, not even as you start to move, holding his wrist there with a squeeze, leaving nail marks, only to release and take it with you, a thick line of spit stringing from his fingertips to his swollen mouth. You swipe down and lick it off, pushing his arms up beside his hand and interlocking fingers. You shift and he pulls, every part of him tugging on your overworked cunt, sore and throbbing. He’s way more than a damned stretch.

“Where’s your fucking lube?” Your vocal language continues to fly free as you raise your hips a little and he struggles to tap beside him on the sheets, eyes glazed over and glossy. Fuck, is his lash line wet? Is he actually crying? His hair is a tousled and damp mess. He’s never been more beautiful, more sacred to you.

You crack open the bottle and let it drizzle onto the part of his cock that’s slid out of you, spreading it around on your own cunt and discarding. You sink back down with an overly squelching echo. “You and this fucking python, Steve. It’s the true monster of Hawkins, isn’t it? This fat cock, always splitting me wide open.”

He vibrates. You’ve never felt him pulse that hard in you, nearly triggering your orgasm. Shattering it apart, fragmenting. Your eyes widen. “If you fucking come, I’ll keep riding you until you’re screaming.”

You break that briefly, raising a brow to check in with him through this, soft and compliant to his needs, because you want nothing more than to fuck him stupid and care for him forever, despite your dizzying haze. He nods, in synch with you. Good to go.

You bend yourself down, hands sliding up and through his chest hair, tugging on his chain, nipples hardening as they brush over, pressing, the fat of your tits squishing when you’re right against him, held. You finger-tap your way up his biceps, fingers unfolding and nails scratching, leaving his upturned palms to cup the sides of his face, nosing him. “Mine.”

And that he is…

// Eat me paragraph //

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shelleysmary · 28 days ago

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if i may tack onto this great meta post, not only is the exploration of british fascist ideology in the late 60s–early 70s appropriate to the setting of endeavour, but it was a whip-smart choice on the part of russell lewis because, narratively, it also fits the overall themes of the series.

morse may not be an active player in most of these scenes, but he is the eponymous "endeavour" - greats man and acknowledged intellectual. not every plot is about him, but considering how much it relies on anti-intellectualism to thrive, the choice to single out fascism in a show centered around an opera-loving oxford non-graduate feels deliberate. time and again, whenever morse is confronted with bigotry or fascist messaging during the course of his investigations, his responses range from discomfort to outright impatience (depending on the day, the mood, the state of his love life) but the narrative never entertains that the fascists might be right. the fascists always give you the ick, they always sound ignorant, they are always wrong. because fascism has no basis in real logic!

obviously, we can see from the history succinctly explained by op that some of the biggest voices during the relevant time period were upper class white britons, many of whom, like morse, attended universities like oxford and on paper seem like "intellectuals," and yet morse always stands apart - not only because of his own class as the son of a taxi driver, but also because he functions within the narrative as a symbol of intellectualism. over the course of the series, his passions and his classical education are ridiculed by people on both sides of the class divide - those with less espouse anti-intellectual and anti-academic sentiment because their limited means and social immobility leaves little room for them to view "culture" as relevant to their lives and also (let's be honest) because morse can be a bit of a pedant and an ass, so he's not doing himself any favors; those with more see him as an interloper, another "outsider" who should keep to his place, and moreover, i think they recognize that his relationship with culture is in earnest. it's not a status symbol, not a weapon: morse genuinely engages with art and literature and philosophy, he is interested in the world and in people, he desires to be a moral person.

in endeavour, the lady bayswaters of the world are called out directly. they're disapproved of. they can talk all they want about preserving "the national character," they can live on grand estates and collect art and wear pearls, but they are never allowed to get away with it. there is none of the poignancy of morse's cramped early-series flat while a record plays in the background. there is no oxford skyline at dusk. there is no beauty, no music, no warmth. instead, there is only casual cruelty, brutality, stupidity even. one thursday is worth a thousand gormans, and make no doubt about it; charity mudford is fool's gold while shirley trewlove is worth her weight in the real deal.

as @season-77 pointed out in their rb of the original post, we're seeing the history depicted in the show playing out again in our lifetimes and it seems we've learned nothing. but reminders are good. what i love about endeavour is that no one is perfect, no one is superhuman, no one is above reproach, but they all try. and the show commends them for trying. they are the good guys. you find something worth defending. you hope for the best in people. the sun always comes up... beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

Endeavour and Fascism

There's a thread of history running through Endeavour that's been on my mind a lot recently. It's a somewhat unified arc that runs through 3 episodes: Coda, Colours, and Raga. I was curious to learn more and did some research.

It's probably nothing new for folks in the UK, but for most of us in the US, it's not something we learned about in school.

So here goes...long post...

S3E4: Coda

We get the first glimpse in in Coda when Thursday comforts Trewlove with the offer of a cigarette as she copes with the murder of a fellow officer:

THURSDAY: All right? TREWLOVE: They just shot him. Like it was nothing. THURSDAY: Here. For the nerves. Keep the pack. Stick 'em behind your notebook and nobody'll know. TREWLOVE: Thanks. THURSDAY: Tip my old governor gave me. Sergeant Vimes. Cable Street. “No Pasarán!” All right? Let’s have that jacket buttoned up, then. TREWLOVE: Sir.

It's such a little exchange, but it delights me in so many ways. There's the sweetness of the interaction between Thursday and Trewlove. There's the irony in hindsight of his "thoughtfulness" in helpfully encouraging her to smoke. There's the nod to Terry Pratchett's Discworld with the references to both "Sergeant Vimes" and "Cable Street." And finally there's the nod with “No Pasarán!” to the actual Battle of Cable Street that occurred in the East End of London in 1936.

A nostalgic reference to “No Pasarán!” is actually a bit ironic coming from a former Met officer. As the unfortunate party charged with keeping the two opposing sides "peaceful," the Met faced some of the worst violence on that day. However, Fred Thursday would not have experienced it as a police officer.

We know from the episode Home that he didn't join the police until two years later, in 1938. We find out in Cartouche though, that he did grow up near Shadwell Basin—about a ten minute walk from where the main showdown in the Battle of Cable Street occurred—so there's a good chance that Thursday would have witnessed the events of that day and maybe even participated.

Here's my understanding of what happened: The British Union of Fascists—a group openly aspiring to create a British state in the style of Hitler's Germany or Mussolini's Italy—attempted to stage a march through the middle of London's East End. Their leader was Oswald Mosley, a horrible but charismatic minor aristocrat with a Hitler-wannabe-mustache, his own cadre of paramilitary "Blackshirts," and—unbeknownst to him—a major problem in his ranks with deep infiltration by Special Branch.

Why the East End? It was the poorest area of the city and thus home to the most recent immigrants—in particular, the UK's largest Jewish population—many of whom had escaped rising persecution elsewhere in Europe. At the same time, the East End was also home to the Londoners hit hardest by the rising unemployment of the 1930s.

Mosley's rhetoric had finally become openly and unapologetically anti-Semitic in 1935 and the idea that Jewish immigrants were the ones responsible for stealing jobs from the "native" British was a simplistic explanation offered by the BUF that unfortunately resonated with many East Enders. So ultimately, the East End was home to both the main target and the BUF and some of its biggest supporters.

In October of 1936, Mosley planned for his Blackshirts and their supporters to march through the heart of the East End. Determined to both defend themselves from threats of violence and stop the march from passing through their community, Jewish leaders and others mobilized, successfully recruiting thousands of their East End neighbors and others allies to assist.

On the day of the march, despite a massive police escort, the BUF was turned back repeatedly. The slogan of the day, borrowed from the Republican fighters in the Spanish Civil War was, "They shall not pass" or "No Pasarán!”

Eventually, things came to a head at the junction of Cable Street and Christian Street. Multiple barricades were erected and the BUF marchers were pelted with rotted vegetables and the contents of chamber pots. It became a pitched battle at one point. Unable to break through the East End, Mosley was finally forced to relocate his followers to Hyde Park.

S5E4: Colours

The Battle of Cable Street was a humiliation for the fascists and for Mosley, a victory for the Jewish community and their allies. Sadly, the happiness was very short-lived. Mosley was able to frame Cable Street in the press as an attack by the left on his right to free speech.

There was an immediate increase in support for the BUF in the greater London area, particularly in the East End, and an increase of violence against Jewish people in the UK. Oswald Mosley himself travelled to Germany only two days after Cable Street. There he married socialite Diana Mitford in a secret ceremony at the home of Joseph Goebbels with Hitler attending as the guest of honor.

Mosley and Mitford CC-BY-2.0

However, the increase in support that occurred right after Cable Street was brief in itself. As the threat of Nazi Germany became more apparent in the UK, the popularity of the BUF declined. Once the war began, the Mosleys were interned under a provision that applied to active Nazi sympathizers.

Post-war, Mosley attempted to once more find a place in politics but fortunately never moved beyond the fringe. He and his wife became prime movers in advancing various Holocaust denial theories and later espoused rather unpleasant opinions on topics such as the forced repatriation of immigrants and mixed-race marriages.

If this all sounds familiar, it's because it all crops up in the storyline of Colours where the character of Charity Mudford, Lady Bayswater is a stand-in for Diana Mitford. RL's dialogue very much captures the sheer banality of the real Diana Mitford's evil:

BAYSWATER: I can't change the past. If Winston hadn't been so eager for office, all the unpleasantness might have been avoided. My husband had Hitler's ear. We could have persuaded him. Softened his resolve. He wasn't immune to reason. THURSDAY: Charming conversationalist, no doubt. BAYSWATER: Actually, he was a very good mimic. Terribly witty. MORSE: Sir, is it time for that telephone call? To the station? I can take it from here. THURSDAY: The unpleasantness, as you call it, cost me six years of my life, and untold millions a great deal more.

S7E2: Raga

But we're not quite done yet. The BUF had a successor. The National Front was founded by a former member of the BUF who then joined forces with John Tyndall, the leader of the Greater Britain movement which had a big anti-immigration focus.

As with Jewish immigration a generation earlier, heavy South Asian migration to Britain in the 1970s made it an easy target for those seeking to pin all of the nation's economic and social problems on "outsiders."

The National Front eventually came out with an agenda that called for the revocation of citizenship for all non-whites in Britain and forcible repatriation to their "native" countries. NF rallies were frequently accompanied by violence whipped up by the kind of rhetoric we hear in Raga where the character of Gorman serves as a stand-in for Tyndall and his ilk:

THURSDAY: Well, we're very concerned about young Pakistani lads getting knifed on the street. GORMAN: Terrible. But I can't say that I'm surprised. You cram all of these incompatible cultures together on one small island, of course it's gonna lead to blood. And worse. MORSE: Sounds like a threat, Mr. Gorman. GORMAN: It's just an observation. If the police can't keep the streets safe and defend the indigenous population against outsiders, well, no wonder people take it into their own hands. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a seat to win.

If anyone sees anything that I've gotten wrong here, please let me know. This was my first time reading through any source material on this whole topic and it's complicated (and depressing as hell).

I haven't got any pithy, final point to make except to say that there are certain ideas that seem to cycle back with horrible regularity every time certain conditions are in place. They're wrong. They're simplistic. They're hateful. And they need to be stopped every time.

#endeavour #itv endeavour

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silverinia · 3 years ago

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Writer prompt number 2? ;)

2. has a comment someone left on a fic of yours ever made you cry?

Oh, lots of times, actually. I've received the kindest, most thoughtful reviews over the years and I tend to tear up quite quickly when I'm alone. I cherish every single one of them. But there are a few that I really want to mention here because some reviews I got are just so moving to me that I find myself feeling like a toddler attempting to talk politics when I try to reply because I always doubt that I can really express my gratefulness for them. I've put them in categories because I can.

1. reviews that just make me feel like my writing might be a teeny tiny bit special

The @baranskini review is from Mark Me Yours, Maybe Forever, a smut fic that I wrote for and gifted to her after I lost a bet. A lot of my followers know that I've been her beta reader for a while now and that I obviously adore her fantastic writing, which is one of the reasons why I really value her opinion and feedback. The other reason is that she's become a dear friend of mine through the fandom. I love talking about fic ideas with her, she's so creative and quick-witted, and she and I have very similar understandings of Diane and Kurt. She's one of the most supportive and (even though she will deny it) kind people I know. She's one of those people who give you compliments that you will probably think about for the rest of your life, such as this review. I love her so much.

The review by Reader_88 is from Geborgenheit. For those who don't know, Reader_88 is one of the very, very few readers in this fandom who generally don't shy away from giving critical reviews. I personally think that their feedback is mostly constructive (though my own insecurities about posting my writing allows me to understand how other writers could take offense in their negative reviews) but say what you will about them, they ARE very honest, which is why a review like this from them pretty much feels like the highest approval I could have gotten.

The review from HSZ is from Geborgenheit, too. It's short but so meaningful that I still think about it a lot, because (1) the fact that they usually don't write reviews but felt compelled to reach out to me after they read this fic is such a big compliment, and (2)... what they said about this fic being one of the stories that mark you for life honestly left me speechless. It made me feel so proud of myself when I got it because wow, this one really stood out for them and honestly, how fucking kind.

2. reviews from people who understand my intention

I've been writing fanfiction for three years now and a lot of the stories I post are very dark. There has been negative feedback, reviewers expressing their disappointment about specific twists, people calling me cruel and my plot choices uncalled for, oblivious comments by readers who don't seem to care for the stories and keep insisting that I change a fic's outcome that I've been planning for years, tumblr anons who have been rude about a couple of subjects I write about, and others that used my angst record as an invitation to drop their very dark and triggering fanfic ideas in my ask box because they want gory and traumatizing fics.

Those things leave a mark, no matter how confident you are or how often you tell yourself that you only write for yourself and not for the approval of strangers.

But then there are reviews like the ones from Trinilynn, Billie and Britt. Reviews that remind you that this is worth it. People who show you that there's someone out there who understands your intention, who would never accuse you of exploiting the characters for a cheap shocker. You've never met these people, sometimes haven't even interacted with them online, but their reviews make you feel like you have some sort of (to quote Marissa Gold) Jedi-mind-shit connection.

Trinilynn's review is from Lilies and Gunpowder, the first fanfiction I ever wrote. I remember being so touched by this, it was the very first review that really made me feel seen, and I remember reading this over and over and just being so moved by it. It meant a lot, still does, but especially back then. I'm not joking when I say that I was ready to promise them my firstborn in that moment because I was just so grateful.

The other two are from Everything's gonna be alright, one by @billiezhang0909 and one by Britt.

Billie has become one of those people that already make my heart skip a beat the moment I get a review notification and just see her username. Every single review she writes is so thoughtful and heart-warming, obviously very carefully phrased and crafted (for real, you can see that she has a talent for drawing in the way she talks, every words is like a pencil mark, every thought like a different cross-hatch) and she is just so incredibly kind and sweet that it makes you feel like you don't even deserve that she's taking the time to talk to you. Her reviews mean the world and she's probably one of my favourite people in this fandom.

And then there's Britt's review. Britt has recently joined the fandom, read my unnecessarily sad fic and then proceeded to write a review in which she gave me a breathtaking compliment, a ton of sympathy and understanding and then finished by explaining grief in a way that would've made me cry if I hadn't already been crying. I completely adore this girl and I can't wait to read her McHart fics because if she managed to take me out like that in ten lines, Lord knows what she'll do to me with a full story.

3. personal reviews

And then there's personal reviews. I believe that personal reviews are both the rarest and the most rewarding kind of feedback you could get. They really show me that a story has moved the reviewer so much, that they were able to allow it in and let it unravel whatever pain or connection there might be. And it's one thing to be trusting enough to let it, it's a whole other thing though to have the bravery and strength to open up about it and let me know. There are reviews like this from people who know me, like @amphoraeimpetus (from EGBA) who's such a darling that the world won't ever come close to deserving her, and baranskini ([Alan Rickman voice] my love, always) (from Geborgenheit), and those from readers I don't think I've ever spoken to before, like cucumberbabie (Geborgenheit), Kunjuru (Lilies and Gunpowder) and the anonymous "ordinary reader" (also Geborgenheit). Honestly, no matter what happens to the show, the fandom, or my writing, those reviews and first and foremost, the people behind them, they really make it all worthwhile. I could never thank them enough for the way their words and support have touched me, but I hope that some of them might see this post and understand it anyway.

#fanfic writer ask game #jesus christ I'm sorry #i have no idea what this post is #i'd love to lie and say I'm on my period but i'm really not #just a cringy emo bitch

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

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The next Cinderella AU part is here...and I am so thrilled about this part, because not only do we get a new character (who I’m quite sure you can identify from the sketch above -- only my second time drawing him ever, and I’m actually pretty happy with it!), but we’ll also get a nice serving of drama! Goodie!!

Robin Hood as a legendary figure first originated through the oral tradition, so its history is a little hard to plot out, but his first reference in writing is a ballad from the 15th century. Although our modern image of Robin Hood is that of a chaotic good heroic figure, his original incarnation was decidedly less saintly -- he was a bandit, and although he did refrain from stealing from women, he was rather violent, reckless, and hot-tempered, as well as flagrantly against both clerics and all nobility. Robin Hood’s backstory of being a disgraced nobleman who turned outlaw after losing his title and land and who remains loyal to the “good king” Richard while opposing the unlawful regent Prince John was added later, presumably to make him a bit more “approachable” to an Elizabethan audience who was more accustomed to hearing tales about nobility (just look at a lot of Shakespeare’s plays from that period -- many of them center around royalty or the upper class). Plays about or referencing Robin Hood then increased in popularity on the British Isles throughout the 16th and early 17th century, until the rise of Puritanism in the 1640′s put a halt to theatrical productions. (Bloody kill-joys.) For more information on the history of Robin Hood’s development, I strongly recommend this analysis done by Overly Sarcastic Productions (...actually, just watch everything on their channel, it’s all great XD).

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn had a lot of trouble returning to her daily routine at the palace the following morning. Getting so close to the border with Orion and hearing about how much scarier it was likely to get on the battlefield made her all the more worried for Jacob’s well-being. Even if the spell Charles Cromwell had paid for nine years ago made it so that Jacob would stay alive as long as he willed it, Carewyn dreaded the thought of what harm, physical and emotional, that Jacob might face. If she only had some idea which battalion he was a part of and where on the front he’d be, then she could always just try to send a letter his way...maybe even ask Orion to drop it off to the camp for her, since his father was an officer. But Carewyn had combed every military roster she could get her hands on, but hadn’t been able to find a single record of Jacob anywhere.

‘He must be under another name,’ Carewyn told herself.

It wouldn’t be too unreasonable that Charles wouldn’t want Jacob to advance in the ranks on the back of their family name. And really, Carewyn knew full well how displeased her grandfather would be if he found out she was trying to reach out to her brother without his approval -- he could’ve even forced Jacob to take on another name, just to try to make it that bit harder for Carewyn to contact him without his approval...

Carewyn’s friends noticed a rather abrupt shift in her mood. She was singing as always, but her choices were a bit less upbeat and her voice sounded oddly distracted and nostalgic. At one point, Andre mentioned offhandedly that he’d been designing themed outfits for his friends to wear to his mother’s New Year Eve’s Masque Ball, but Carewyn had trouble putting much attention on it.

“I’ve already finished some ‘owl wings’ on a cape for KC and a fur-trimmed wolf mask and gown for Erika...I was thinking perhaps a stag for Bill, a dragon for Charlie, and a lioness for Ginny? I considered a horse at first, but I think a pale gold would make her just glow, don’t you think? Yours I’m most excited for, though...I’m hoping to actually make your newest pair of shoes with fabric on the inside for comfort and diamond on the outside for sturdiness, if I can manage it!”

“Mm...that sounds great,” said Carewyn absently.

Her gaze was drawn out the nearest window, as far out as she could.

“...Andre,” she said slowly, “I realize this is very last minute, but...may I have this afternoon off, to go see my family?”

Andre blinked. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh no, no,” Carewyn lied with as pretty and reassuring of a smile as she could. “It’s just...well, it’s nearly Tristan’s birthday. My uncle keeps him very close to home, compared to my other cousins...I merely thought I might stop by and bake him a little something, as a surprise.”

Andre frowned slightly. “You...get along better with your uncle and his son than with Iris, then?”

“No, but Tristan is only a boy. It’s hard to hold any bad behavior against him. And well, maybe if he and the others don’t know I made it, he’ll enjoy it better.”

Carewyn could see Andre still looked confused and a little dismayed, so she quickly added, “I’ll be back by tomorrow morning, in time for my rounds. I won’t allow it to interrupt my duties.”

Andre offered a hesitant smile. “Well, all right...if it really means that much to you.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Andre -- I really appreciate it.”

Fortunately for Carewyn, Andre wasn’t the best at picking up on other people’s pretenses. Unfortunately for Carewyn, two of his most regular confidantes were his cousin KC and fencing instructor Erika, and they did pick up on Carewyn’s odd behavior.

“She said she wanted to surprise her cousin with something for his birthday?” asked KC, frowning deeply.

“Well, yeah,” said Andre. “I admit, it seemed a little weird to do something so nice without even wanting credit, but Carewyn is an awfully selfless sort. From the way she made it sound, she just wanted to do something nice for him.”

“And you believed her?” said Erika rather coldly.

She whacked Andre’s practice sword out of his hand with her own, making the Crown Prince hiss in pain.

“I’ve told you before, Prince Henri -- you all may think Carewyn Cromwell’s nothing like her family, but that’s absolute bunk. She might be more pleasant than them, but she’s not stupid and she’s not honest. Or did you not notice that that weird guy she hangs out with keeps calling her ‘his lady,’ as if she weren’t the penniless orphan of a deadbeat merchant?”

Erika picked up Andre’s sword and tossed it back to him with ease.

“Then of course that guy himself is shady as all get out.”

Andre frowned. “You mean Orion? Come on, Erika, he isn’t that bad -- I thought he seemed quite amiable, myself. Don’t you agree, KC?”

“He is,” said KC fairly. “But Erika isn’t completely off-base. There is a lot about Orion that we don’t know -- that even Carewyn herself doesn’t know. She admitted as much to me, after I first met him. That being said,” she raised her own sword and got into position to attack Andre, “I don’t think Orion’s a threat. You would think anyone with the ability to sneak over the palace walls not once but twice would’ve tried to make some move to attack you by now, but he’s only ever come looking for Carewyn. And although I don’t completely understand the reason behind why she’s acting like a lady around him,” she shot Erika a faintly reproachful look as she and Andre traded blows, “I’m pretty sure it has more to do with her own insecurities than because she’s a terrible person -- ow! Damn it!”

Andre had successfully disarmed KC.

“Insecurities?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “What is there for her to be insecure about? I mean, yes, she has no dowry, and taking Orion’s wardrobe into account, I’d suppose he has to come from a family with modest wealth -- but Orion seemed to enjoy the Weasleys’ company quite well, and their family is poor. I think they’d make a lovely match, really,” he added with a rather smug grin. “They even matched at the Festival, without realizing it.”

KC massaged her wrist, frowning a bit sourly. “Yes...but Carewyn is solely under Lord Cromwell’s charge. He’s the one who sent her here. He’s the only guardian she really has. And I think it’s quite clear how much influence he has over his family -- even his daughters who married into other esteemed families still live at his estate with their husbands and children, rather than moving out onto their own estates. And in Carewyn’s case, she doesn’t even have a parent to help shield her from Lord Cromwell’s will. She doesn’t have a penny to her name. So that means, in effect, she’s chained to him, and in those circumstances...well...”

She hesitated.

"Well what?” Andre prompted her.

KC looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“I didn’t want to say anything before without knowing for sure...but I think someone’s been looking at our military ledgers, documenting troop placements. Everything’s neatly put away the way they should be, but there are more fingerprints on them than before. And usually I’m the only one who has much use to look those up, whenever I’m ready to suggest a new war strategy...”

Erika’s eyes narrowed very sharply and she got right up into KC’s space. “And you’re only just saying this now?! That information could be critical to Royaume’s enemies! What if that guy Orion sneaked in not just to see Cromwell, but to get his hands on those? Or what if it was Cromwell herself, working in collusion with him?”

“Impossible,” Andre said forcefully. “Carewyn would never be a spy for the enemy -- it’s not in her character.”

“And I don’t think Orion would know where those documents would be, even if he did sneak in,” said KC.

Erika, however, looked unconvinced as she made for the door. “You can coddle those two all you want, but I plan to tell the King and Queen -- they’ll want to interrogate Cromwell and this ‘Orion Freeman’...”

“Erika, belay that!” Andre said in a suddenly much sharper and more authoritative voice. “That’s an order.”

Once Erika had stopped walking and turned back around, the Crown Prince exhaled heavily and crossed his arms in a business-like manner.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said firmly. “If Carewyn is heading to the Cromwell estate, she’ll have to take the road through town, correct? I’ll simply take a horse and follow the road after her.”

Erika and KC looked startled.

“Uh, Andre,” said KC, “you haven’t forgotten that you’re not allowed to leave the palace, have you?”

Andre smirked. “No. I’m just sneaking out.”

Before Erika and KC could articulate an argument, he added in a much sassier voice, “Look, I’m doing it whether you come with me or not. I’d appreciate the company if you want to come along -- all I expect is that you’ll dress appropriately. I hear linens and cottons are fashionable for those who don’t wish to attract attention.”

And so Andre, KC, and Erika made preparations to follow Carewyn...completely unaware that a half-hour earlier, Bill and Charlie Weasley had -- after having a similar, but much more concerned conversation with Badeea Ali about Carewyn clearly lying to Andre’s face -- decided to take their horses and tail their friend themselves. And sure enough, the two eldest Weasleys soon enough found themselves following Carewyn on the road heading northeast, avoiding the Cromwell estate all together.

At the very same time, in Florence, Orion had finalized his plan. Today was the day he was going to request a formal audience with Prince Henri, as Prince Cosimo VII. As Carewyn had said, he’d need to act fast if he was going to stop his father from finding a way to complete his own ruthless strategy -- the battlefield itself would be a difficult place for Orion to make his case, with so many distractions, but he knew a more balanced, peaceful setting wouldn’t be. And so he wrote a long letter to the King, explaining everything that he had learned from Royaume and its people as well as Florence’s own, so as to make a case for peace. He then had the court magician Severus Snape deliver it to the Florentine camp in his stead, while he dressed in his finest and prepared to leave for Royaume.

When he made as if to take his own horse, however, Orion found Skye and McNully waiting for him, a black coach already prepared.

“If you’re planning on going to meet Prince Henri, you really should arrive in style,” said McNully with a wry smile. “A good first impression to the King and Queen would help your case by a good 45%.”

“And you have to know there’s no way in Hell we’re going to let you go out and expose your true identity to the enemy without back-up,” Skye added, her arms crossed over her chest. “

Orion’s black eyes softened. “...Thank you.”

As he climbed into the carriage, both McNully and Skye’s faces nonetheless betrayed some hesitation.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” McNully asked. “There’s a 74% chance they’ll respond badly to it -- I reckon there’s a 39.5% chance they’ll try to arrest you on the spot and hold you as a prisoner of war...”

“I carry no weapons with me, and I come with the explicit purpose of diplomacy,” said Orion levelly. “Therefore I’m not an enemy combatant. As long as I follow their direction while under their roof, then any harm they might do me would be violating the conventions of war...and the Royaumanians, for all of their flaws, do have honor.”

“One could make a case for you having been involved in espionage, though,” McNully pointed out, but Orion ignored him and settled down in the carriage, crossing his legs offhandedly.

“What about Lady Cromwell?” said Skye, her voice a bit lower and more concerned. “She’ll find out you’re a Florentine. And not just any Florentine, the Prince of Florence.”

Something sad flickered through Orion’s confident, unflappable expression.

“She was going to learn the truth sooner or later,” he murmured. “If our time together has come to an end...then at least I may have the memories to hold onto...and the knowledge that by ending this War peacefully, I may have spared her of more heartache.”

He closed his eyes and began to meditate, clearly having said his piece on the matter. Skye and McNully, however, couldn’t help but exchange a look that was both anxious and very sad.

As long as they’d known Orion, he’d always been a little reckless, but he was also passive and avoided direct confrontation. This plan to directly appeal to Royaume’s royal family, however, required a lot of guts -- far more than either of them had thought Orion possessed. And they knew such courage could only have been encouraged by one person...the very same person who Orion loved so much that he would choose to follow her example and protect what she loved, even if it meant destroying their relationship forever.

Orion meditated during most of the journey to the Royaumanian palace. It was merely fortunate that, as they approached, McNully broke him out of his trance by tapping him on the shoulder and pointing out the window. If he hadn’t, then Orion would not have seen a rather familiar trio of riders on horseback, riding through town past them -- a short, stocky lady with dark red hair and freckles; a very tall blonde with a square jaw and sharp eyes; and a very handsome dark-skinned man dressed in a purple tunic, emerald green pants, and gold-buckled black boots.

“Stop the carriage!” said Orion, his soft, level voice nonetheless very firm despite not rising in volume.

He barely waited for the carriage to completely stop before slamming the door open and jumping out.

“Andre! KC!”

Andre, KC, and Erika all stopped their horses in an abrupt halt and turned around as Orion dashed up to them.

“Orion?” said Andre, startled.

KC looked from the rather finely dressed Orion to the expensive-looking black coach behind him and back. Erika’s eyes narrowed critically upon Orion as he came to a stop in front of them, his hands clasping in front of him.

“I...had not expected to see you out and about,” said Orion, trying to put on his most pleasant, calm expression.

Andre glanced over his shoulder up the road, frowning deeply. “Yes, well...some business has come up.”

“Orion, have you seen Carewyn?” KC asked him, her face very serious.

Orion blinked.

“Not since last night,” he said. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Never you mind,” barked Erika, as she turned back to the road. “Come on, we don’t want to lose the trail -- ”

“Erika,” reproached Andre, before he turned back to Orion, his face visibly concerned. “...Carewyn asked for the afternoon off to go see her family, but it was very last minute, which isn’t like her. And according to what we’ve heard in town, there’s been no traffic down the road toward the Cromwell estate in the last four hours...”

“So Carewyn had to have been lying about where she was going,” finished KC, her face much more stoic but her voice no less tense. “We need to find her and figure out why.”

Orion’s eyebrows had furrowed over his widening black eyes. His heartbeat was slamming in his ears as the memory of Carewyn in the woods returned to him -- looking northward, toward the army camps, as if longing to run toward them --

“I know where she’s gone,” he said at once.

He rushed back to the coach, grabbing onto the window frame and standing on the boot of the carriage.

“To the northern border,” he urged Skye, who sat in the driver’s seat. “Quickly!”

“The border?” repeated Skye as a sharp whisper. “But Orion, your meeting with the Prince -- ”

“Can come later,” Orion told her very firmly under his breath. “Both he and I must get to the war front.”

He shot a significant look over his shoulder in Andre’s direction. McNully, putting two-and-two together, nodded and inched himself up to the window of the carriage.

“If you tie one or more of your horses to the carriage, we should decrease our travel time by a good 21% per horse,” he told Erika, KC, and Andre. “If Carewyn left an hour ago, then with one horse, we should be able to overtake her within an half-hour -- two, within twenty minutes, and three, within ten. Though with Orion on the boot, there’s a 12% chance he’ll fall off if we ride at full speed, so we might have to go at 95% instead -- ”

KC fixed the blond-haired man with an incredulous look as she leapt off her horse.

“Are you really calculating all that on the fly,” she asked, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or amused, “or are you just pulling those numbers out of fat air?”

McNully couldn’t help but grin. “Excellent! Now I can officially say that I’ve been asked that question over a hundred times before.”

Still looking faintly bewildered, KC moved to help Andre, who’d quickly started attaching his, Erika’s, and her horse’s to the front of the carriage with the two black ones already pulling it, ignoring Erika’s incredibly sour and distrustful expression. There was no time to lose.

From the boot of the carriage, Orion directed Skye down the same road he’d taken with Carewyn the previous night, Andre, Erika, and KC riding with McNully inside the coach. Once they’d reached the forest, Orion caught sight of a familiar-looking golden eagle with a bandaged wing -- at the sight of the Florentine prince, the eagle gave a loud shriek and flew down into the trees, and Orion urged Skye to pursue him into the woods. The road took them deep into the trees, until at last the eagle landed on a branch over the heads of two familiar-looking ginger-haired men, who were bound with thick rope to a tree.

Bill and Charlie were stunned at the sight of such an elegant coach, but were absolutely beside themselves with relief at the sight of Andre, KC, and Erika. Erika immediately yanked a knife out of her ankle boot and set about sawing off their bindings -- once she’d cut Charlie free, he immediately rushed forward and grabbed Andre’s shoulders.

“We’ve got to hurry!” he said anxiously. “They’ve got Carey!”

“‘They?’” said Andre, very startled. “They who?”

“This band of Florentine bandits,” said Bill, his voice very low and urgent. He kept maneuvering his bindings as Erika cut them to try to sever them faster. “They cornered us so they could try to rob us -- they were willing to let Carey go since she was a lady, but she bartered with the leader, saying that they could take her so long as they left us alone. Claimed that they could probably get more money from holding her hostage than us, given her family...”

Both Skye and McNully glanced at Orion. The Prince’s face had lost most of its color -- he’d turned his face away and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly as he tried to stabilize his emotions.

“The bandits in these woods are Florentines, so I doubt they will harm you,” Baroness McGonagall’s words returned to his mind, “but I cannot be sure how they would respond to a Royaumanian, especially one related to one of their wealthiest noblemen.”

“They took all three of our horses and tied us to the tree so that we wouldn’t follow them,” growled Charlie. “They left us a knife so that we’d be able to cut ourselves free, but it’s so dull I reckon it would’ve taken us hours to do it ourselves...”

Bill succeeded in snapping the weakened ropes in half and leapt back to his feet, massaging his wrists.

“They must have taken her to a camp of theirs,” said KC, her dark blue eyes narrowing. “Even bandits need some base of operation.”

McNully nodded, resting his arms on the edge of the coach’s window. “The lady is right. Given where we are, I’d say the odds are fairer that it’s southeast of here.”

“Closer to the Florentine side of the border, you mean,” presumed KC, and McNully nodded again.

“They were heading south through the woods,” said Bill. “But we won’t want to bring the coach. They stopped us because they wanted money -- if they have any reason to think any of you have it, they’ll no doubt want to imprison you too...”

“On the contrary,” said Orion in a very low voice, “this carriage may be just the thing we need, to ensure that they don’t imprison us.”

Everyone looked at Orion, their faces all a mixture of incredulity and revulsion, but he seemed disinterested in explaining himself.

“We must be quick, McNully,” said Orion, and although his voice and face were as level and unreadable as ever, they both betrayed a slight edge. “Time is not on our side.”

With Bill now sitting with the driver’s seat next to Skye and Charlie hanging off the boot with Orion, the black coach set off again. Overhead Orion caught sight of the wounded eagle again, which shrieked at them warningly -- the Prince thought it must mean they were close, but did not respond fast enough to the trap set out in front of them.

The coach rode right through a certain cluster of vines, and within seconds, they had magically sprung to life, lashing themselves around the limbs of the five horses pulling the coach. The steeds reared back, panicked -- Skye immediately yanked out a sword from her belt and began hacking away at them, and Erika and Andre both leapt from the carriage with their own swords to help, but it was no use. The vines only lashed onto them, binding all three of them fast and making it impossible for them to move. And when things seemed like they couldn’t be any worse, without warning, a group of green-dressed men and women had swung down from more vines attached to the nearby trees, surrounding them in a tight noose-like circle and pointing their arrow-decked bows at them.

They were trapped.

“Well, well,” said a voice from the trees above, “we don’t often see coaches that ritzy out here.”

The voice’s owner leapt down to the ground. Unlike his companions, his hooded tunic was yellow instead of green. When he lifted his head enough that they could see his face, it was the host of a mischievous smirk.

“Especially ones crafted in Florence,” the dark-haired and eyed bandit said breezily.

Andre, KC, Erika, and the Weasleys all stiffened.

“Florence?” breathed Bill.

They all as a unit whirled on Orion. His face was remarkably calm and solemn as he stepped off the coach and in front of the others and faced the bandits’ leader, his hands clasped in front of him.

“We do not come seeking trouble,” he said. “We merely come to retrieve a lady who surrendered herself to you. Frame like a robin’s. Hair the color of a red sunset. Eyes the color of the sky.”

The bandit’s leader raised his eyebrows curiously. “The maid called Cromwell?”

“That is her.”

“And what reason would you desire her in your custody?” challenged one of the green-dressed bandits with a cocked eyebrow, a dashing man with tanned skin and dark brown hair.

“Wants to ransom her off himself, no doubt,” sneered another woman with messy brown hair and cold magenta eyes. “He probably works for Lord Malfoy -- we all know he’s the sort to make money off illicit enterprises and keep it all to himself, rather than give it to anyone who actually needs it...”

Two of the other bandits -- a pair of women with long red and short pink hair, respectively -- exchanged a sour look.

“We have nothing to do with Lord Malfoy,” spat Skye, vainly tugging against the vines binding her. “We wouldn’t collaborate with that rat if you paid us -- !”

“Skye,” said Orion in a quelling voice.

The last bandit, a very strong-looking man with dark red hair and emerald green eyes, frowned deeply at the leader, who considered Orion carefully.

“I know your face,” he murmured.

Orion inclined his head, his black eyes boring into the other man’s face. “I’m sure you do.”

The leader’s thin-lidded eyes narrowed critically -- then they widened, realizing.

“Bring out Lady Cromwell at once,” he said abruptly.

The others all whirled on him.

“What?!” cried all three women and the dashing man.

“Jae, are you mad?!” said the woman with the magenta eyes.

“Do it,” said the leader called Jae firmly, without flinching.

The strong bandit -- the only one who hadn’t questioned the leader’s direction -- grabbed a vine, which immediately retracted back up above them.

Jae glanced at the magenta-eyed woman. “Merula, have the vines set them loose.”

Merula looked rather scandalized. “What? Oh come on, you know how much of a pain it is, to have to recast a spell after it’s broken -- ”

“Better that we do it now than wait around for the spell to expire on its own,” Jae said dryly.

Still looking very reluctant, Merula nonetheless did as she was told, holding up her hand, which glowed with light green.

“The terms are now invalid,” she muttered sourly at the plants.

The plants sparkled with a similar green flare before falling limply off of the horses, Andre, Erika, and Skye. KC and Bill moved to detangle the now harmless plants from their companions and around the horses’ legs, and Charlie moved to soothe the frightened steeds.

Within a minute, the strong bandit was back, holding onto the vine easily with one hand and holding Carewyn under his opposite arm. She had her ginger hair tied back in a loose bun and was dressed in the green peasant dress she’d worn to the Festival and her slightly oversized brown shoes -- no doubt because it was the most comfortable dress for travel she had. Orion was also beyond relieved to see that she was perfectly unharmed -- not a single cut or bruise.

“CAREWYN!” cried KC, Andre, Bill and Charlie in relief.

All three of the men immediately dashed right over to her and threw their arms around her in a group hug.

“It’s all right,” Carewyn reassured them with a small smile. “I’m all right.”

“They didn’t hurt you?” Bill interrogated her.

“You must have been terrified -- ” said Andre.

“Where are the horses?” asked Charlie.

“Tied up in a makeshift stable over there,” said the pink-haired bandit with a wry grin and a vague hand gesture.

“A bit tricky to lug them up into treehouses,” added the red-haired one cheekily. “And no, for the record, we did not hurt Carewyn Cromwell. She may be a stick in the mud, but she’s a decent sort.”

“And brave too!” said the muscled man, beaming. “She wasn’t scared at all, not even when Merula stuck a knife in her face!”

“I was only getting fed up with her smart remarks,” huffed the magenta-eyed bandit called Merula. “You’d think she was the Queen of Sheba, with how she acts...”

“She is a proper lady, to be sure,” said the dashing bandit, shooting Carewyn a rather Casanova-like smile.

Carewyn tried to stifle a snort of laughter behind her hand as Jae approached her.

“Seems you’ll have an escort after all, Carewyn,” he said, lowering his bow with a slightly more serious look. “I don’t think I can convince you to reconsider, but under the circumstances...well, just make sure you’re careful. I’d hate to hear of Royaume losing one of its only honorable citizens due to their own stupidity.”

Carewyn inclined her head to him, her blue eyes very solemn. “I’m far from Royaume’s most honorable citizen, Jae, nor from any other country, I daresay. But thank you.”

Jae nodded. He then looked up at Orion.

“By your leave then, your Highness,” he said with an abbreviated bow.

He then nodded to the other bandits, and one by one, they all disappeared back up into the trees.

None of the people on the ground, however, gave them much mind. All of them had turned back around to face Orion -- Carewyn felt like her heart had stopped still as she stared, taking in his neat ponytail and finely tailored black doublet and hose and boots.

“...‘Your Highness?’ ” repeated Charlie, shocked.

Andre’s eyes widened. “Then...then you’re...?”

Orion swallowed, but somehow managed to keep his composure as he nodded. His eyes were locked on Carewyn’s face, never shifting and as turbulent as a black ocean.

“King Cosimo’s new heir,” KC breathed, her face flooding with fresh understanding around her amazement. “Cosimo VII.”

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cali-holland · 4 years ago

Text

Golden Bullets, Ch. 6: The Spy Who Loves Me

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond!AU

Harrison Osterfield, Agent 007, was once the best MI6 agent around with the astounding reputation as a womanizer. Between illegal gold smuggling and black market trading of weapons, he finds himself deeper in his latest mission than intended, weaving himself into a web of the criminal organization, S.P.E.C.T.R.E.. At the center of it all is the one woman who’s never fallen for his charms- you, Agent 006, the best MI6 agent, the new assistant director of the program, and his new partner.

Word Count: 4100

Gif is not mine

Golden Bullets Masterlist

Masterlist Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: violence (character death, punching, kicking, brass knuckles, guns, explosions, choking- just everything), swearing, sexual themes

Featured Song: Nobody Does It Better Carly Simon from The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)

~ “But like heaven above me, the spy who loved me is keepin’ all my secrets safe tonight, and nobody does it better, though sometimes I wish someone could, nobody does it quite the way you do, why’d you have to be so good?”

This was also for @spideygirl2003 ‘s 800 follower writing challenge with the prompt “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” (I forgot to add this in the original haha)

~~~

“Kentucky.” You heard Q call out as you stepped out of the hotel bathroom.

“What about Kentucky?” You asked, running a towel over your hair in an attempt to dry it faster. Just an hour ago, Q picked you up from near the river; you two grabbed the flash drive and got a small hotel room for the time being- at a different hotel, of course. After a warm and much needed shower, your body was beginning to feel normal again, and it definitely helped that your arm and wrist were both patched up now.

“That’s where they took 007.” Tom replied as his fingers continued to type away on the laptop before he showed it to you. A GPS satellite image showed a map of the U.S. with a blinking red dot right in Kentucky; zooming in, the satellite shifted to display a farm outside of Louisville. “Turns out Goldfinger’s family owned a stud farm. It’s retired now, but it must be a good location to smuggle gold bullions and super spies.”

“And the flash drive?” You opened your suitcase, taking inventory on your guns, itching to leave and shoot something in Kentucky.

“Almost done. Contrary to what you field agents believe, hacking is a lot of work.” He said, and you looked over at him. Glaring, you cocked one of your guns as if to say “test me”. He held up his hands defensively and you refocused on packing. The room was silent for a moment, before Tom spoke up again, “He’ll be alright. 007’s a tough one to break.”

“I’m not worried about him. I want to kill the bitch that keeps attacking me.” You muttered.

“For a spy, you’re shit at lying.” His words made you freeze, and he continued with a laugh, “I know that look in your eye; you’re worried about him, even if you try to hide it as revenge on Galore. You and Harrison- you’re both independent and badass, but you’re both into each other and are just too much of wimps to say anything about it.”

“I killed a dozen men tonight already. I hardly think I classify as a ‘wimp��.” You used air quotes around his descriptive word choice.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Before you could reply, his laptop beeped, signaling he was into the flash drive. “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” You asked, coming to sit beside him to look at the screen. Tom’s eyes trailed over the laptop, taking in the information as he continued to scroll through the files.

“Goldfinger’s planning on blowing up Fort Knox. He’s got the schematics for it and everything right here.”

“How does this connect to S.P.E.C.T.R.E.? And Sciarra? And Le Chiffre?” You questioned, and he began researching more of the files.

“These are-” Tom started.

“Bank records. This is Le Chiffre’s system.” You explained, recognizing it from your time spent tailing him. “Le Chiffre wasn’t his competition, he was an investor in Goldfinger’s plot- that’s why Goldfinger killed him off.” You got up, hurrying to grab your laptop and opening one of the electronic files M had sent. You sat your laptop down next to his on the table.

“Look.” You pointed to the screen. “M sent me a comprehensive list of all the sniper’s targets this morning.” You and Tom looked between the two lists, spotting how every single one of the targets had their bank account on this flash drive.

“Goldfinger was scamming them to become the leader of S.P.E.C.T.R.E. and bombing Fort Knox would make him the sole supplier of gold, too. It’s like a sick, get-rich-quick scheme.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“We need to stop him from getting to Fort Knox.” You paused, “But Silva isn’t on this list. How was he involved?”

“Tiago Rodriuez is, though.” Tom stated, and you looked at him confused. “Tiago Rodriguez is Raoul Silva’s given name. I bet he found out what they were doing and created this flash drive as protection.”

“There needs to be something else on it. Something that Goldfinger and Galore were terrified of losing.”

“I’ll keep looking, but we need to get going. M got us a private jet, and we have a flight to Kentucky to catch.” He had barely finished his sentence and you were already on your feet, gathering your bags. He looked at you for a moment, a humorous smile on his face.

“Are you just going to sit there or are you coming with me?” You asked.

“You’re so into Harrison.” Tom chuckled in amusement, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“I will leave you behind if you say one more word.” You threatened, picking up your bags, and he shut off his laptop.

“If it wasn’t for me, you’d have no idea where 007 is.” He reminded you as he put away his things.

“You act like I wouldn’t hunt down Galore with or without you here.” You stated, opening the hotel room door.

“Trust me, I know you would.”

~~~

Everything was a blur. Harrison blinked repeatedly in an attempt to clear his vision. He heard a voice announce that he was awake, and he was quickly reminded of his last memory: getting drugged by Galore in the Montenegro hotel room. He was sitting rather uncomfortably in a wooden chair, his ankles bound to the chair’s feet and his wrists bound together behind his back. And his mouth was covered by what felt like duct tape, leaving his lips feeling dry. His vision finally cleared up, and he took in his surroundings: three metal doors on three of the dark gray walls and a window behind him on the fourth. There were four armed guards in the room as well as Oddjob and a man in a crisp white suit with gold detailing- Goldfinger, no doubt.

“Oh, how lovely of you to join us, 007.” He said, ripping the duct tape from Harrison’s mouth, but leaving it to tauntingly dangle from his cheek.

“How lovely to meet you, Goldfinger.” Harrison replied, sarcastically. Goldfinger stepped closer as Oddjob came up beside the chair, adjusting the cap on his before tugging a brass knuckle onto his hand.

“You and Agent 006 have certainly been a nuisance.” Goldfinger started, and Harrison cut him off.

“Why, you’re welcome.” The air was swiftly knocked out of him as Oddjob threw a painful punch straight into Harrison’s gut. He held onto the back of the chair with one hand to keep it steady. “You couldn’t have started without the brass knuckle.”

“You stole a very valuable flash drive from Sciarra, who stole it from me. Where is it?” He questioned.

“If it’s so valuable, how did Sciarra end up with it?” Harrison let out another groan, hit with another hard punch.

“Where’s the flash drive?”

“I don’t have it.” He shut his eyes, ready for the next blow, but it never came. Instead, Goldfinger just glared at him, narrowing his eyes in anger and frustration. Harrison noted how stressed he looked, raising his eyebrows at Goldfinger, “What’s on that flash drive? You and I both know you’ll kill me in here, so there’s no need for the secrets. Give me the long-winded villain backstory, I’m itching to hear it.”

That time, he earned a punch from Oddjob. Harrison could already feel the bruises forming as his stomach repeatedly got abused, and he could definitely tell Oddjob had been pulling his first few punches.

“I believe you’re familiar with Raoul Silva? Before you killed him, he hacked his way through my system, froze my accounts, stole information. Now, that drive has the final piece to my masterplan, a neurotoxin so powerful that it can wipe out Fort Knox in its entirety.”

“Fort Knox?” Harrison asked, biting back the smirk on his face. “Steal from the U.S. gold supply, brilliant plan.”

“Not steal. Destroy.” Goldfinger stated, a devilish smile on his face. “Now, where the hell is my flash drive?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” A voice said, stepping into the room. Harrison didn’t even look to know it was Galore. “He doesn’t know where it is.”

As she stepped into the room with a small limp in her step, Harrison got a good look at her face. He could see the bruising on her neck, no doubt from his own chokehold on her during their last encounter, but, judging by the fingernail marks, you’d gotten your hands on her, literally. Her perfectly arched eyebrow was interrupted by a large gash over it, some medical bandages doing their best to cover the fresh wound. He also spotted some dried blood in her hair from a gash to the back of her head, and he felt a small wave of pride wash over him. There was only one person that he knew would have given Galore hell- you. He wasn’t surprised at the fact that you put up an impressive fight against her. That pride though was fleeting and was quickly replaced by worry because, if Galore was here, that meant either you were captured or dead, or you somehow managed to escape her clutches better than he had.

“Get into a cat fight, Pussy?” Harrison asked, a smirk finding its way onto his face. She crossed her arms, pursing her lips in annoyance.

“For Agent Y/L/N being MI6’s assistant director, I thought she would have put up a better fight.” She let out a small sigh, watching how Harrison’s jaw tightened involuntarily. “A pity really.”

“What did you do to her?” He questioned through gritted teeth. She laughed wickedly at his emotional response. Goldfinger and Oddjob stepped backward to let Galore come closer to Harrison. She trailed a

“Harrison Osterfield, Agent 007- the famed womanizer falling for the maneater. Who would have thought indeed?” She clicked her tongue in sadistic amusement as her nails began to dig into his skin, making him squirm under her. “Oh, I’m sorry, do you not like me calling her that? Funny, she didn’t take a liking to me calling you womanizer either.”

She let go of him, before pulling the duct tape back over his lips. She took a step back, her cold glare never faltering. Goldfinger shook his head, “I would’ve loved to meet Agent 006 and have my way with her.” Harrison couldn;t refrain from letting out an angry breath, his eyes narrowing at the thought of Goldfinger ‘having his way’ with you. He watched as the man in the suit turned back to Galore, “Where did you leave her again?”

“I left the bitch at the bottom of the river.” At her words, Harrison dropped his head down, and Galore let out another cynical laugh. She, along with Goldfinger and Oddjob, froze as they noticed Harrison’s shoulders start to shake. He threw his head back in laughter, the sounds muffled by the duct tape.

“What is he laughing at?” Goldfinger spat, growing suspicious of the agent in front of him.

Before any of them could react, a bullet went racing through the window and straight into one of the guard’s heads. Everyone ducked as another bullet flew into a second guard’s heart- well, Harrison did his best to duck in his chair.

“How did they find us?” Goldfinger questioned, and Galore and Oddjob drew their guns. Galore looked over at the amused Harrison. A third bullet came through, right into another guard, and immediately afterwards, the last guard was taken by another bullet.

“We need to go.” Galore pulled open the door to the left and escaped with Goldfinger. Just as Oddjob pointed his gun at Harrison, the door right in front of them blew off its hinges, sending Oddjob towards the door to the right, which he quickly got up to escape through. Harrison groaned from the sudden explosion, but as the smoke cleared, he saw your figure come through the doorway.

“Wait on the balcony, my ass.” You said immediately, pocketing your gun as you stepped into the room. You ripped off the duct tape from his mouth, giving him no time to prepare for the pain.

“Ow.” He muttered. “Watch the lips, I need those.”

“Oh, do you now?” You replied. You grabbed out a knife from your belt to cut his ankles free.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy these lips.” Harrison teased with a smirk as you reached around him to free his wrists, your face just inches from his. The second his wrists were loose, he untangled himself from the ropes and grabbed your cheeks to kiss you. You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face as your lips moved against his.

“Moneypenny owes me 50 pounds.” You pulled away from Harrison, hearing Tom’s voice in your ear comms. You sighed, reaching into your pocket to grab one out for Harrison before handing it to him. He quickly put it in his ear, and you handed him a couple guns.

“Do you have to be such a prick?” You asked Tom, moving away from Harrison as you looked out the window, knowing he was in the distance with his sniper.

“‘No, I’m most certainly not into Harrison.’” Tom replied in a ridiculously high pitched voice to mock you. “Are you going to keep standing there or are you going to go after Goldfinger?”

You looked at Harrison, and he cocked his gun, nodding to the door to the left. You slowly opened the door all the way, checking for anyone down the hall, and Harrison quietly spoke up, “When you said those lipsticks were tranq lipsticks, you were serious.”

“Really? That’s how she got you?” You asked with a small laugh as the two of you continued your way down the hall, guns at the ready.

“I was going to use it on her.” He replied. You couldn’t reply before you two turned a corner and saw three more of Goldfinger’s men down the hall, backs to you.

“I’ll get the two on the left.” You whispered.

“Why do you get two of them?” Harrison asked.

“Because I’m a better shot than you.” You said as if it was obvious.

“We both get one on the outside and then it’s whoever gets the middle one first after that.” He offered a compromise and you nodded. The men turned before you two could fire and instantly engaged in a fist fight. As much as you two had discussed who got the third, it wasn’t important anymore as the third guard ran off, most likely to inform Goldfinger of your whereabouts.

Harrison blocked the opposing man’s first punch, but the second hit him in just the right spot in his gut, sending him stumbling back for a moment. Regaining his footing, he gripped his gun and shot at the other man, hitting him in the shoulder. While he staggered in shock and pain, Harrison kicked up right into his face, knocking him backwards onto the ground.

Meanwhile, you dodged the second man’s punches, letting him strike right into the concrete wall. You grabbed his outstretched arm, kicking under his elbow hard enough to break the bone. Then, as he shouted in pain, you jumped down to sweep your feet under his to send him falling backwards. Before you could grab your gun and shoot him, Harrison shot him for you.

“That counts as mine.” You argued as you two continued your journey down the halls.

“But I killed him.”

“Are you two done competing yet? I’ve got a visual on Goldfinger.” Tom said from his perch outside, yards away from the scene.

“Where is he? Which way?” Harrison asked as you both came to a halt with a fork in the road.

“Goldfinger’s to the left.”

“And Galore?” You questioned.

“To the right, up the stairs.”

“I’m going after Galore.” You stated, starting to make your way to the right, but stopped when Harrison’s hand grabbed yours.

“Goldfinger’s the one we need to stop. Leave Galore.” He urged you.

“They’re both heading this entire thing. You get Goldfinger. I’ll get her.” You replied. Seeing the concerned look flash across his features, you smiled, “Look at her and look at me- I can take her.”

“Just kiss and run separate ways already.” Tom’s voice came through the comms and you rolled your eyes.

“I’ve got Galore.” You said, before running off to the right. Harrison looked at your disappearing figure for a moment before taking off to the left.

Once you were up to the second story of the building, you were met with a single long hallway and over a dozen doors. Gripping your gun tightly, you spoke quietly into your comms, “Q, where is she?”

“I can’t tell. My heat map is malfunctioning.” You could hear him messing about on his laptop, trying to get his sniper heat map to work. Slowly, you continued your way down the hallway.

“Here, kitty kitty.” You tauntingly called out. You kicked down the first few doors, checking them for any signs of her.

When you kicked open the fifth door, you heard something shuffle behind you. Before you could turn to take her, Galore used a belt to wrap around your neck. In shock, you dropped your gun, attempting to keep her from fully cutting off your airway. You threw yourself backwards, with her still tightly holding onto the belt behind you, hitting her into the wall. You gasped out, trying to regain your breath as you blindly rammed her into the wall again. On your third attempt, she loosened her grip, giving you the opportunity to grab the belt away from your neck. You kicked yourself up, using the wall in front of you for leverage to twist around and kick her in the head to knock her down.

“You know, I’ve always been more of a dog person.” You breathed out, still trying to regain your breath.

“Bitch.” She spat out, blood coming from her newly broken nose. She grabbed your gun from beside her, aiming it at you. Before she could shoot, you grabbed your second gun and shot her in the shoulder. She dropped your gun as her shoulder began to bleed.

“That’s for 009.” You said, using your foot to press your weight on her wound. You leaned down to grab your other gun, not easing up on the pressure. With her good hand, she tried to hit your foot off her, and you shot her in her other shoulder, stepping harder to the spot you were already on.

“That’s for 007.” You added.

“Let me guess, you’ll shoot me in the heart and that’s for you?” She muttered. You moved your foot to her throat, letting the small heel of your boot dig into her skin.

“Heart? No, head.” You raised an eyebrow at her, before shooting her right between the eyes. You watched as her body fell limp, and you quickly searched her for more guns- surprisingly, she had none, but maybe that’s why she’d been so keen on taking from you.

“Harrison, I’m coming your way.” You announced into your comms, leaving back the way you came.

In the meantime, Harrison had been stalled by more of Goldfinger’s men. At first, it was a game of duck and shoot, but then, as he ran out of bullets, it became a fist fight. He had his eye on the machine gun one of them carried, but he accidentally kicked it down the hall when getting it away from the man’s grip. Eventually, he picked up a gun from one of the men, but with six men coming at him, he didn’t really have to pause and aim properly. He didn’t even hear your call through the comms, too focused on not dying. He did his best- ducking in between two of them so they shot each other, ramming one into the wall, blindly shooting at one as he had the other in a chokehold.

He turned to fight the last man, kicking the gun out of the enemy’s hand but losing his own gun in the process. Harrison blocked the punches and sent some of his own into the man’s jaw and chest. Just as Harrison was about to kick him, the other man beat him to it, kicking him right where it hurt most.

“Fuck, that’s cruel.” Harrison groaned, falling involuntarily to his knees. He braced for a kick or a punch or something, but instead he heard a series of gunshots ring out and the man before him fell to the ground, dead.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing on the ground?” You questioned as you ran down the hallway to his side, abandoned machine gun in hand.

“Praying.” He sarcastically replied. You helped him up and he winced a little.

“Your dick really is your biggest weakness.” You teased.

“Trust me, darling, it’s not.” He stated, picking up a few guns. He noticed the red mark across your neck, clearly from a chokehold, “Where’s Galore?”

“Dead.” You smiled, proudly. “Now, come on, we’ve got to get Goldfinger.”

You and Harrison made your way through the facility in search of Goldfinger, under the watchful eye of Tom that directed you two where to go. When you both finally caught up to him, he was on the helipad, moments from taking off in his helicopter.

“Stop right there, Goldfinger.” Harrison warned, holding his gun up at the ready. Keeping your new machine gun up and your eyes trained on Goldfinger, you slowly stepped sideways, preparing to encircle him. Goldfinger drew his own golden gun, making both of you tense your trigger fingers.

“I think you’re going to let me leave.” He smirked, his eyes trained on Harrison, gun pointed at you.

“No way in hell.” You stated. You stepped forward, almost taunting him to pull the trigger. Before you could take another step, you heard Tom call through the comms.

“It’s a trap. Oddjob’s behind you.” He called out. You turned quickly, ducking behind a few boxes, as Oddjob fired his machine gun. Harrison dove towards you, finding cover beside you.

“Damn it, he’s getting away.” Harrison muttered, watching Goldfinger jump into the helicopter. Meanwhile, Oddjob hadn’t stopped firing at you two.

“Cover me.” You said, and he nodded. You popped up enough to aim your gun at the helicopter pilot, shooting in his direction repeatedly, while Harrison shot at Oddjob. Your shots hit the helicopter just right and you eyed it as it went crashing down on the other side of the building. At the sound and sight of the explosion, Oddjob ran, clutching onto his hat and gun as he disappeared from the helipad.

“We have to go after him.” You stood up from your spot, getting your gun ready for another round.

“You go, I’ll wait here.” Harrison replied, and you looked down at him, confused by his sudden tiredness. It was then that you noticed his hand pressed down on his hip. You crouched back down and slowly removed his hand to see it covered in blood. “Guess we got matching scars after all.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” You asked, a sudden worry overcoming your voice. You lifted his shirt to inspect the wound, a single golden bullet barely visible in the bloody hole. You removed your jacket, bunching it up to apply pressure to it.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” His voice trembled as his eyelids got heavier. With your free hand, you cupped his face.

“Hey, hey, stay with me. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” You reassured him.

“What’s going on with you two?” Tom asked through the comms.

“Harrison’s been shot.” You said, looking down at the growing pool of blood on your jacket and the ground, “He’s losing a lot of blood.”

“I’ve got the ambulance on their way.” He replied.

Harrison reached a hand up to hold onto the wrist of your hand on his face, his thumb gently caressing your skin. “You need to go after Oddjob.”

“I’ll kill him later. I’m not leaving you.” You told him, not budging from your spot.

“You’re my weakness, Y/N.” Harrison said softly.

“Harrison,” You breathed out, a small smile on your face as you looked at your partner. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, “You’re mine too.”

~~~

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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The Star Trek: The Original Series Episodes That Best Define the Franchise

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By the time my generation got to watch Star Trek: The Original Series, the episodes often were being presented in top-ten marathons. When I was ten-years-old, for the 25th Anniversary of Star Trek, I tape-recorded a marathon of ten episodes that had all been voted by fans as the best-ever installments of The Original Series. Later, I got lucky and found Trek stickers at the grocery store and was able to label my VHS tapes correctly. But do I think all the episodes that were in that marathon back in 1991 were really the best episodes of all of the classic Star Trek? The short answer: no. Although I love nearly every episode of the first 79 installments of Star Trek, I do think that certain lists have been created by what we think should be on the list rather than what episodes really best represent the classic show.

This is a long-winded way of saying, no, I didn’t include “Amok Time” or “The Menagerie” on this list because, as great as they are, I don’t think they really represent the greatest hits of the series. Also, if you’ve never watched TOS, I think those two episodes will throw you off cause you’ll assume Spock is always losing his mind or trying to steal the ship. If you’ve never watched TOS, or you feel like rewatching it with fresh eyes, I feel pretty strong that these 10 episodes are not only wonderful, but that they best represent what the entire series is really about. Given this metric, my choice for the best episode of TOS may surprise you…

10. “The Man Trap”

The first Star Trek ever episode aired should not be the first episode you watch. And yet, you should watch it at some point. The goofy premise concerns an alien with shaggy dog fur, suckers on its hand, and a face like a terrifying deep-sea fish. This alien is also a salt vampire that uses telepathy that effectively also makes it a shapeshifter. It’s all so specifically bonkers that trying to rip-off this trope would be nuts. Written by science fiction legend George Clayton Johnson (one half of Logan’s Run authorship) “The Man Trap” still slaps, and not because Spock (Leonard Nimoy) tries to slap the alien. Back in the early Season 1 episodes of Star Trek, the “supporting” players like Uhura and Sulu are actually doing stuff in the episode. We all talk about Kirk crying out in pain when the M-113 creature puts those suckers on his face, but the real scene to watch is when Uhura starts speaking Swahili. The casual way Uhura and Sulu are just their lovable selves in this episode is part of why we just can’t quit the classic Star Trek to this day. Plus, the fact that the story is technically centered on Bones gives the episode some gravitas and oomph. You will believe an old country doctor thinks that salt vampire is Nancy! (Spoiler alert: It’s not Nancy.)

9. “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield”

There are two episodes everyone always likes to bring up when discussing the ways in which Star Trek changed the game for the better in pop culture’s discourse on racism: “Plato’s Stepchildren” and this episode, “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield.” The former episode is famous because Kirk and Uhura kiss, which is sometimes considered the first interracial kiss on an American TV show. (British TV shows had a few of those before Star Trek, though.) But “Plato’s Stepchildren” is not a great episode, and Kirk and Uhura were also manipulated to kiss by telepaths. So, no, I’m not crazy about “Plato’s Stepchildren.” Uhura being forced to kiss a white dude isn’t great.

But “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield,” oddly holds up. Yep. This is the one about space racism where the Riddler from the ‘60s Batman (Frank Gorshin) looks like a black-and-white cookie. Is this episode cheesy? Is it hard to take most of it seriously? Is it weird that Bele (Frank Gorshin) didn’t have a spaceship because the budget was so low at that time? Yes. Is the entire episode dated, and sometimes borderline offensive even though its heart is in the right place? Yes. Does the ending of the episode still work? You bet it does. If you’re going to watch OG Star Trek and skip this episode, you’re kind of missing out on just how charmingly heavy-handed the series could get. “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield” is like a ‘60s after-school special about racism, but they were high while they were writing it.

8. “Arena”

You’re gonna try to list the best episodes of Star Trek: The Original Series and not list the episode where Kirk fights a lizard wearing gold dress-tunic? The most amazing thing about “Arena” is that it’s a Season 1 episode of The Original Series and somehow everyone involved in making TOS had enough restraint not to ever try to use this Gorn costume again. They didn’t throw it away either! This famous rubber lizard was built by Wah Chang and is currently owned by none other than Ben Stiller.

So, here’s the thing about “Arena” that makes it a great episode of Star Trek, or any TV series with a lizard person. Kirk refuses to kill the Gorn even though he could have, and Star Trek refused to put a lizard costume in a bunch of episodes later, even though they totally could have. Gold stars all around.

7. “Balance of Terror”

The fact that Star Trek managed to introduce a race of aliens that looked exactly like Spock, and not confuse its viewership is amazing. On top of that, the fact that this detail isn’t exactly the entire focus of the episode is equally impressive. The notion that the Romulans look like Vulcans is a great twist in The Original Series, and decades upon decades of seeing Romulans has probably dulled the novelty ever so slightly. But, the idea that there was a brutally cold and efficient version of the Vulcans flying around in invisible ships blowing shit up is not only cool, but smart.

“Balance of Terror” made the Romulans the best villains of Star Trek because their villainy felt personal. Most Romulan stories in TNG, DS9, and Picard are pretty damn good and they all start right here.

6. “Space Seed”

Khaaaan!!!! Although The Wrath of Khan is infinitely more famous than the episode from which it came, “Space Seed” is one of the best episodes of The Original Series even if it hadn’t been the progenitor of that famous film. In this episode, the worst human villain the Enterprise can encounter doesn’t come from the present, but instead, the past. Even though “Space Seed” isn’t considered a very thoughtful episode and Khan is a straight-up gaslighter, the larger point here is that Khan’s evilness is connected to the fact that he lived on a version of Earth closer to our own.

The episode’s coda is also amazing and speaks of just how interesting Captain Kirk really is. After Khan beat the shit out of him and tried to suffocate the entire Enterprise crew, Kirk’s like “Yeah, this guy just needs a long camping trip.”

5. “A Piece of the Action”

A few years back, Saturday Night Live did a Star Trek sketch in which it was revealed that Spock had a relative named “Spocko.” This sketch was tragically unfunny because TOS had already made the “Spocko” joke a million times better in “A Piece of the Action.” When you describe the premise of this episode to someone who has never seen it or even heard of it, it sounds like you’re making it up. Kirk, Spock, and Bones are tasked with cleaning-up a planet full of old-timey mobsters who use phrases like “put the bag on you.” Not only is the episode hilarious, but it also demonstrates the range of what Star Trek can do as an emerging type of pop-art. In “A Piece of the Action,” Star Trek begins asking questions about genres that nobody ever dreamed of before. Such as, “what if we did an old-timey gangster movie, but there’s a spaceship involved?”

4. “Devil in the Dark”

When I was a kid, my sister and I called this episode, “the one with giant pizza.” Today, it’s one of those episodes of Star Trek that people tell you defines the entire franchise. They’re not wrong, particularly because we’re just talking about The Original Series. The legacy of this episode is beyond brilliant and set-up a wonderful tradition within the rest of the franchise; a monster story is almost never a monster story

The ending of this episode is so good, and Leonard Nimoy and Shatner play the final scenes so well that I’m actually not sure it’s cool to reveal what the big twist is. If you somehow don’t know, I’ll just say this. You can’t imagine Chris Pratt’s friendly Velicrapotrs, or Ripper on Discovery without the Horta getting their first.

3. “The Corbomite Maneuver”

If there’s one episode on this list that truly represents what Star Trek is usually all about on a plot level, it’s this one. After the first two pilot episodes —“Where No Man Has Gone Before” and “The Cage”—this was the first regular episode filmed. It’s the first episode with Uhura and, in almost every single way, a great way to actually explain who all these characters are and what the hell they’re doing. The episode begins with Spock saying something is “fascinating” and then, after the opening credits, calling Kirk, who is down in sickbay with his shirt off. Bones gives Kirk shit about not having done his physical in a while, and Kirk wanders through the halls of the episode without his shirt, just kind of holding his boots.

That’s just the first like 5 minutes. It just gets better and better from there. Like a good bottle of tranya, this episode only improves with time. And if you think it’s cheesy and the big reveal bizarre, then I’m going to say, you’re not going to like the rest of Star Trek.

2. “The City on the Edge of Forever”

No more blah blah blah! Sorry, wrong episode. Still, you’ve heard about “The City on the Edge of Forever.” You’ve heard it’s a great time travel episode. You’ve heard Harlan Ellison was pissed about how the script turned out. You heard that Ron Moore really wanted to bring back Edith Keeler for Star Trek Generations. (Okay, maybe you haven’t heard that, but he did.)

Everything you’ve heard about this episode is correct. There’s some stuff that will make any sensible person roll their eyes today, but the overall feeling of this episode is unparalleled. Time travel stories are always popular, but Star Trek has never really done a time travel story this good ever again. The edge of forever will always be just out of reach.

1. “A Taste of Armageddon”

Plot twist! This excellent episode of TOS almost never makes it on top ten lists. Until now! If you blink, “A Taste of Armageddon” could resemble at least a dozen other episodes of TOS. Kirk and Spock are trapped without their communicators. The crew has to overpower some guards to get to some central computer hub and blow it up. Scotty is in command with Kirk on the surface and is just kind of scowling the whole time. Kirk is giving big speeches about how humanity is great because it’s so deeply flawed.

What makes this episode fantastic is that all of these elements come together thanks to a simplistic science fiction premise: What if a society eliminated violence but retained murder? What if hatred was still encouraged, but war was automated? Star Trek’s best moments were often direct allegories about things that were actually happening, but what makes “A Taste of Armageddon” so great is that this metaphor reached for something that could happen. Kirk’s solution to this problem is a non-solution, which makes the episode even better. At its best classic Star Trek wasn’t just presenting a social problem and then telling us how to fix it. Sometimes it was saying something more interesting — what if the problem gets even harder? What do we do then?

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The humor and bombast of “A Taste of Armageddon” is part of the answer to that unspoken question, but there’s also a clever lesson about making smaller philosophical decisions. In Star Wars, people are always trying to rid themselves of the dark side of the Force. In Star Trek, Kirk just teaches us to say, “Hey I won’t be a terrible person, today” and then just see how many days we can go in a row being like that.

What do you think are the most franchise-defining episodes of Star Trek: The Original Series? Let us know in the comments below.

The post The Star Trek: The Original Series Episodes That Best Define the Franchise appeared first on Den of Geek.

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whitleyschn33 · 4 years ago

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Hey, I don't mean to bother you again, but if you're still feeling up to it, I'd still like to see your opinions on each member of the Schnee family. No pressure if you don't want to do it though; I still appreciate seeing whatever you do post.

Hey!

You’re not bothering me, trust me. My motivation for... well, everything, but this blog in particular fluctuates pretty wildly, and that means that asks can sit in my inbox for months. The world going to hell hasn’t helped much. Also, every single time I’ve tried to write this, I’ve ended losing chunks of it cause I was too dumb to just type this in a word doc and copy-paste, so that’s been frustrating, to say the least.

Now that I’ve gotten smarter, though, let’s get into the Schnees!

Jacques

I have mixed feelings about how he was (potentially) written out of the show (and I have a feeling I’m going to be saying that a lot in this reply). I said in this post awhile back that I didn’t want Jacques to become an agent of Salem because something like that would most likely become the focal point of his asshole-ness and shove everything else to the side. That feeling holds true, but not really in the way I had been expecting.

How he ended up benefiting Salem, I’m perfectly good with. Him not knowing about Salem or Watts’ motives for making the deal with him, making the deal because it of how it would benefit him and not to serve Salem/kill people - that I’m good with. He was an unknowing pawn Watts/Salem manipulated around the board, but not a mustache-twirling villain all on board with working with the genocidal maniac/serving on her council of villains, and that’s all I really wanted - for him to not be a knowing member of Salem’s board of evil. Being part of a group that desires global destruction just doesn’t fit his motives – can’t make money off people if they’re all dead.

However, the fact that that’s why he was arrested - that his downfall was due to and focused solely on being involved in a Salem plot that just popped up this volume rather than anything to do with his treatment of the Schnees or the Faunus - that kinda rankles. This goes back to the ask I answered a while back - the focus on all the new plots and characters that meant a lot of the old stuff that’s been built up was shoved aside. Jacques being taken down feels like it should have been this huge emotional climax, tensions running high with all of the Schnees there and a huge release of all of those tensions as Jacques gets taken down for the crimes that we as the audiences most revile him for – his treatment of the Schnees. Instead it was… none of that. Jacques is arrested by Weiss for his aid to Watts… and she promptly cracks a joke about it to kill the tension. Winter is able to get in a decent snap at him, but that’s it from her. The entirety of Jacques’ arrest is focused on the heating crisis. He’s dragged off, and only Willow and Whitley get to witness and react to it, and even that’s just a look from Willow and Whitley running off looking completely done with everything – they don’t even react with each other. There’s nothing in Jacques’ downfall about his abuse to his wife and children or even the Faunus, it’s all the election and Watts – plot points that don’t hold nearly as much weight to the audience as ones that have been set up for years.

So, TLDR for Jacques: I actually hope this isn’t the last we see of him, because that would be a disappointing way to end the Schnee’s arc as a family. At the very least, I hope we get to see him talked about between Winter, Willow, and Whitley if/when they actually get to talk to each other.

Willow

Mixed Feelings: Round Two.

Her design? Love it. Her conversation with Weiss? Gold. Willow as a character? A bit more involved than I would’ve thought from how very non-existent she’s been up until now and implied to have been in Weiss’s life, but I can roll with her being a bit more aware than I would’ve gone with. Willow’s role in this volume? Ehhhhhhhh….

I hate that she literally just has a camera hidden in Jacques’ office and recorded the entire thing. It seems like such a cheap way of Weiss getting the information she needed, and comes out of nowhere after there was already a way for her to get the information set up in Whitley. Seriously – we already had Whitley established as having seen Watts, seen Jacques’ reaction to him, look suspicious at Watts, and hear at least the man’s first name. Whitley absolutely had the information Weiss needed – so why the hell pull “Willow actually has cameras set up everywhere” out of thin air? And actually – wouldn’t Jacques have his office swept for cameras and bugs on the regular? You know, like the head of an extremely powerful organization and high-profile target of at least one major terrorist group probably would? To prevent something like this exact situation from happening? I just find it hard to believe that she could’ve set them up for long without being found, and setting them up just before something important to the plot happened in that room is just very convenient.

And like, there’s actually no reason that it needed to be that way. Willow and Weiss could have had the same conversation, just swap out the lines about the cameras with “I don’t know, but I know who would – your brother”, and you can even have Weiss still say that he wants nothing to do with her and Willow agree with her “you left him here with us” line, prompting Weiss to seek him out to get the information she needs and maybe even have a heart-to-heart with him. Whitley wouldn’t even have to give up the information in that conversation – he could be incredibly stubborn about it and unwilling to help until Weiss is called into a meeting about the heating crisis, which Whitley would absolutely follow into to listen whether he’s invited or not, and hearing what’s going done, decide to step up and come clean, realizing if he doesn’t, thousands of people will die. I can actually picture it in my head, and it would be so much better than just “Oh, yeah, I got cameras that recorded the entire nefarious conversation.”

And I’ve spent this entire section not really talking about Willow. Uhh… again, I really like her design. I like that she’s wearing purple, a color no other Schnee wears (except… Whitley with that wine… hmmm) – a mixture of red and blue, her freedom being drowned in something else until it’s completely tainted. Her voice is good, and for the most part, I really do like her conversation with Weiss. I also love that she finally points out what me and other Whitley fans have been screaming for ages – that you can’t expect someone that you basically abandoned (in his eyes) to look favorably on you, and I like that she acknowledges her own role in that, that she’s been a poor parent as well, and actively a detriment to Whitley.

TLDR, I like Willow, I just hate the damn cameras that seem to only exist for this plot point (since if they existed before, shouldn’t Weiss being hit be what they were meant to capture?).

Winter

Best girl, hands down. Not kidding, Winter basically carried this volume for me – rational, yet having very human reactions to things while recognizing that the emotional response isn’t necessarily the right one, the star of a badass fight with Cinder in which her Aura breaks but she still goes on fighting and holding her own against a damn Maiden, an awesome new outfit, wonderful conversations with Penny and just a very interesting relationship with her overall, actually gets to fight back against Jacques to his face – is there any point where this woman doesn’t exceed all my expectations?

I wasn’t a huge Winter fan before this volume, but I’ve successfully been converted. Second favorite Schnee for sure.

Weiss

On thin ice. Still my favorite of the RWBY crew, but considering how much of a nose dive the other three (in particular Ruby) took in this volume, that’s not saying a lot. A lot of what irks me with Weiss are… little moments. Implying that Winter shouldn’t trust Ironwood because he “could” be keeping secrets when she’s the one lying while Ironwood has been nothing but honest, the implication that Winter isn’t capable of making her own choices in regards to the military and the Maiden and that Ironwood must have been grooming her (I really hate this implication, both for trying to tear Ironwood down and for trying to rob Winter of her own agency – like, joining the military was her choice, her escape from Jacques, and you want to turn that into some kind of long game manipulation on Ironwood’s part? You want to prove Jacques of all people right in that he “stole” Winter, rather than Winter making her own choices and Ironwood recognizing her abilities and offering her the Maiden’s powers? Really?), trying to brush aside Ironwood’s concerns about just how much RWBY has done behind his back, calling Mantle “her home” when it’s never been that in front of Marrow who is almost certainly from Mantle – just, a lot of little things that I really dislike, not to mention that this is probably the worst design she’s had. But there hasn’t been anything that’s just blatantly ruined her for me, and she remains the most interesting and well executed character of RWBY for me.

TLDR, a lot of bratty moments that push me away from her, but still holds promise.

Whitley

My poor boy! He finally got more screentime and some of our headcanons comfirmed, but made the butt of a joke that could’ve easily been replaced with character development and underutilized so much. I’d say mixed feelings, but no – love his character, hate how he was used would probably be the best summary. Of course, I’m very much biased, but let’s not let something like that stop me.

More screentime! And letting him talk to someone other than Weiss! His banter with Ironwood was good, seeing his reactions to Jacques, how afraid and timid he was, was heartbreaking, and even if it didn’t go anywhere, his suspicion of Watts was nice to see. It’s always sweet to see headcanons confirmed too – the painting of him playing the piano was nice, and even if I’d have rather had it come out of his own mouth, Willow’s confirmation of him feeling abandoned by Weiss was such a satisfying thing to hear.

On the other hand, I absolutely hate the wine prank. It was way too drawn out and petty – seeing so much joy on JNR’s face while setting it up over the course of a whole minute and using an stack of food half his size to toss onto him – it was way too over the top. If they had to go for the food thing, having Oscar (or someone else, but Oscar is the one without a huntsman license, so he’s more believably clumsy) just pretend to trip with a regular plate and get it on his shirt would’ve been just fine, and we could’ve gotten a nice interaction between Whitley and someone new and get some character development. But nope. We got to have RBYJNR take way too much glee in dumping a mountain of food on a boy they’ve never met before for… talking to his sister and unwittingly getting in their way. It just puts a bad taste in my mouth.

And of course, what I talked about in Willow’s section, the set up of him seeing Watts going absolutely nowhere. Seriously – you set up the perfect opportunity, and then took an out-of-nowhere cop out. It feels like such a squandered set-up, and really disappoints me.

At least we actually got him reacting to Jacques, and it was given an appropriate emotion and fitting cinematography. I love the shot of Whitley sitting all alone on the stairs, watching the only person that actually gives him attention being dragged away without explanation, and seeing the weariness and sadness in his expression as he looks up – I love it, I love it so much. The last bit of hope that they may actually treat my boy right in the end…

TLDR: My boy!

And there you have it! Months late, my thoughts on the Schnee after the most recent volume! How will these change after volume 8? Hopefully for the better, but we’ll have to wait and see!

Thank you for the ask, and once again, sorry for the wait. I may try and take a few more hits at my inbox, but that’ll have to wait for tomorrow, since I’ve got work in the morning.

Have a good night, and stay safe!

#rwby #weiss schnee #winter schnee #whitley schnee #willow schnee #jacques schnee #rwby7 #ask reply

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1220

The person you had the strongest feelings for dies, do you care? I imagine so, yeah. I’d check up on her family and help in any way I can, if it’s still welcomed.

Is there something you’re happy about at the moment? I share this all the time in surveys at this point but I’m just really giddy that it’s a Friday evening hehe. Also, I’m seeing Angela, Hans, and (finally!!!) Reena later! We’ll be going to UP to shoot some photos since Angela and Reena are graduating this year and we wanna take pictures with the sunflowers in the campus before they die out. I also never got to take sunflower photos when I graduated last year, so it will be my chance to do so as well.

Do you want someone dead? Wow, no.

Do you ever wonder what your ex is up to? It almost never crosses my mind, honestly.

Have you ever fed or taken care of a stray animal? I’ve fed many of them before, yup.

What is something you tend to worry about? Pending deliverables at work, especially ones that are out of my control.

What is something you do that is unhealthy? Be in front of a screen as soon as I’m awake until the second I turn in.

What is something you do that is good for you? I’m no longer afraid to prioritize myself when necessary.

What last caused you to force a smile? Ooh I’m not sure. I haven’t had to do that in a while, which is a good thing. What was the last video game you played? Was it fun? Probably Mario Kart on the Switch, but it’s been a WHIIIIIIIIIIIIIILE. Yeah it’s one of my favorite series for a reason.

What is something not many people know about you? The fact that I’m obsessed with anything classic Hollywood and I’m a big Audrey Hepburn fan. The topic never gets brought up so I don’t really get the chance to say anything about that interest of mine.

What word describes your basic style? Casual, laidback. I’m more than happy with just a simple t-shirt and denim jeans these days and I think I’m over my jumpsuit/romper phase haha.

Have you ever been told you were going to Hell? It was referred to/threatened to me, but not directly with these words.

Have you ever wanted to kill yourself? It was a regular occurrence before.

If yes, what convinced you not to go through with it? I think overall I was just scared of fucking it up and fucking up my brain for life as a consequence. Also I knew no one was going to take care of Kimi as well as I do, and I would never leave him behind.

Have you ever rejected a guy, only to have him push the issue by asking “why?” and insisting that you just need to get to know him better? Nope.

Is there something that you believe everyone should do and you can’t believe that some people don’t do it (e.g., recycle or go to the dentist regularly)? It’s definitely an Asian thing but it will sometimes hurt my chest when I see people wear shoes in their homes.

Regarding the last good choice (healthy choice, kind choice, selfless choice, etc.) you made, what was your real motivation behind it? I wanted to be kind to myself and finally let go of what had been keeping me from starting to be happy and pleased with where I am and have.

What is something that you have had to practice at to get the hang of it? If you can’t think of anything, that’s okay, what’s something you are currently practicing at and trying to master? This is such a shallow answer lol but I’ve recently gotten into this rhythm game called Rhythm Hive that I found impossible to master at first, but after weeks of practicing I now breeze through all the songs at their hardest level.

Have you ever gone to the store to buy something, like a video game, when it came out at midnight? I haven’t done that, but I’ve watched a movie premiere at midnight - for both times the Breaking Dawn movies came out.

Regarding the last novel you read, was there a romance included? If so, was it central to the plot? Yes and yes.

Have you ever done relaxation meditations or listened to relaxation guides or positive-thinking/healing recordings? Nope, they don’t really work on me. I have my own outlets that help me relax.

Do you have any interests that are also often shared by children? Coloring is one. Also animated movies; I never grew out of those.

Is there something that could be a solitary activity but you really only like to do it with other people (e.g., watching movies, playing video games, etc.)? Definitely eating out. I’ve done it a couple of times before by myself and it does feel nice, but I also always can’t help but think it would be a lot more fun and that I would be much happier if I was sharing the experience with someone else.

Are you satisfied with the interior design or decoration in your home? Or do you think it needs a total home makeover? Ugh god I need to rearrange and upgrade my room STAT. My K-Pop merch are starting to pile up but they’re all currently in just lazy heaps scattered around in my room since I don’t have any shelves or anything to properly display them on.

Is there something that you’d like to own but you can’t find it anywhere? If not, can you a remember a time when you wanted something? Did you ever end up finding it or did you eventually stop wanting it? This is always me with BTS merch...

Who makes you smile the most? My friends.

What piercings do you want/have? Just one on each earlobe. I’m not looking to have any more.

What's your favorite website? Twitter.

Do you own a fish tank with fish? We never had one, no.

Do you like the movie 300? I’ve never seen it and will probably never have plans to. It’s not my cup of tea.

Do you pop your knuckles? When I feel stressed or when my knuckles feel strained, yes.

Do you have Photoshop? Nope, I have no use for it.

Do you use tinypic or photobucket? Way back in the day. I’m not even sure if those websites still exist.

What’s your favourite song from the 1980s? Heaven Is A Place On Earth.

How about the 1990s? I’m not sure I have one.

Have you won anything recently? Yeah we played this online game over Google Meets with my co-workers just this afternoon, before clocking out. My team won twice.

How often do you make Excel tables? What for? Oh everyday. I work on a handful of sheets every single day at work, but I also like making spreadsheets for personal use haha. Right now the one I’m currently super invested in is my tracker for all the merch I’ve been buying so I can keep note of my pending payments and which ones I should already be asking for updates on.

What was the last baby animal you saw in the wild? Not sure, I’m barely outdoors.

Are you always available or online? Yup.

Do you have dietary restrictions? Or do you just eat what you like? No allergies or restrictions.

Do you prefer gold, silver or steel jewelry? Or no jewelry at all? Silver.

Have you been binge-watching any shows lately? If so, what? Not really. I’ve stopped watching Hwarang for now, but I do have plans to come back to it someday. I guess I just haven’t been in a K-drama binge-watching mood lately.

If you dye your hair, do you do it yourself or go to a salon? I’ve never had my hair dyed.

If you have any, do you like your in-laws? I don’t have any. < Same.

Would it bother you, if your partner had cut contact with their parents? It depends on the story behind it, but mostly no. How close they are with their family isn’t a priority matter for me.

Have you ever wondered whether you were adopted? All the time, especially as a teenager who wasn’t getting any emotional support at home.

What’s the best physical feeling in the entire universe? When you work on something and expect mediocre results and feedback, but it ends up getting praised instead and you feel all the hard work pay off.

Have you ever grown a berry bush? Nope.

Have you done something new to your hair recently? It’s been untouched since the very start of the pandemic. My sister actually suggested that since I had it cut right when the pandemic started, I should wait out till the end of it and see how long it’ll reach. It sounded intriguing enough so now I’m indefinitely growing it out hahaha.

Do you have bad anxiety? If so, do you take any kind of medication for it? I’m sure I have it, I’ve just never been diagnosed before.

One thing you’ve experienced that you thought you never would have? Managing to get over a rough breakup quicker than I ever expected to.

What was the last thing someone said to you that kept repeating over & over in your head? It was when I was leaving Angela’s house yesterday and an “I love you” to her parents rolled out of my tongue so naturally I almost didn’t notice it; and when they said it back in a heartbeat. It’s when I realized that her parents are really like my second parents and that her house is a second home at this point. My heart was filled the entire drive home.

How often do you have late nights out? Never because we still have a curfew.

If you could, would you work from home? Do you think that would make you more or less productive? I don’t have a choice; it’s the set-up we’re required to live in. I’m pretty productive here at home but then again I don’t have a point of comparison considering I got my first job already in the midst of the pandemic.

If you had the ability to change the weather, what would you change it to right now? I would like to bring snow to the Philippines.

Is there something that you really need to do, but can’t seem to get motivated to do it? Upgrade my room and invest in shelves and other home decor/interior design stuff that would make the space more comfy and homey. Right now it just looks like a warehouse with my merch piled up in scattered places.

Most disturbing movie you have ever seen? Eraserhead or I’m Thinking of Ending Things.

Has a life goal or dream ever come true for you yet? If yes, what is it? If no, do you think you’ll achieve it? I have multiple life goals - some of them I’ve achieved, like getting into my dream university and simply getting employed, and some of them I’m still working my way towards, like getting a promotion. Yeah I feel like I’ll achieve my goals someday. I don’t like losing LOL so when I want something I usually put it above everything else.

Have you ever had food poisoning? Yup.

What are you listening to? Blue & Grey by BTS.

Do you think there will be a WWIII? I find it inevitable at some point down humanity's future. People are too hateful for it not to eventually. < Yeah, let’s go with this too.

Has anyone ever asked you if you were emo? No.

Has someone ever liked you that you never thought would? Yes. Tbh I never expect anyone to like me so I’ve always been surprised when I hear about someone who does.

In all honesty, can a person be too nice? Yes, especially if they’re starting to be taken advantage of.

Has one of your friend’s boyfriends ever tried to cheat on them with you? No.

Is mental abuse really as bad as physical abuse? Any abuse is bad. :/

Do you shop at Sephora for make-up? Nope.

Zelda: Twilight Princess or Ocarina of Time? Twilight Princess only because I grew up with it and never got to play Ocarina of Time.

Do you own a rosary? I did - I went to Catholic school. But I lost mine all the time because I didn’t really care for them lol I always had to buy new ones at the school bookstore.

If you were homeless, how would you cope? I don’t know.

#survey #surveys

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #404

“death doesn’t answer when i cried for help”

The person you had the strongest feelings for dies, do you care? I'd be fucking devastated. It wouldn't feel real. Is there something you’re happy about at the moment? A few things. I'm still on that high of my APAP mask working, like I'm actually getting some fucking quality sleep, and I think I'm noticing the effects of my TMS therapy finally, too. My PTSD has most notably been much more bearable, and my interests are beginning to spread again. Do you want someone dead? No. Do you ever wonder what your ex is up to? I mean yeah, I think that's pretty normal, even for someone without my issues. Have you ever fed or taken care of a stray animal? Oh, many times. What is something you tend to worry about? My health and future. What is something you do that is unhealthy? Sit at the computer for way too long. I'm absolutely certain my vision is as poor as it is partially because of me endlessly staring at screens. What is something you do that is good for you? I'm not afraid to prioritize my mental health. What last caused you to force a smile? I was watching a Mark video for the first time in a while and was just reminded of how much I love and appreciate that moron. What was the last video game you played? Was it fun? Because you said "video" game, I guess I'll exclude computer ones, in which case I'm pretty sure it was Silent Hill 2. Given it's one of my all-time favorite games, of course I think it's fun. It's one hell of an emotional ride. What is something not many people know about you? The fact I was a dancer for many years would probably surprise people once they have a good idea of me and what I like. What word describes your basic style? Lazy, honestly. I dress for comfort, and given that's usually just pj pants and a tank top... yeah, I don't put much effort into my clothing when I'm going most places. Have you ever been told you were going to Hell? She kinda beat around the bush, but yes. Have you ever wanted to kill yourself? On more than one occasion. If yes, what convinced you not to go through with it? Well, I did OD once, but on the other occasions, it was the fear of the unknown that deterred me. Have you ever rejected a guy, only to have him push the issue by asking “why?” and insisting that you just need to get to know him better? Omg no, thank god. I would NOT handle that well. Is there something that you believe everyone should do and you can’t believe that some people don’t do it (e.g., recycle or go to the dentist regularly)? I didn't know 'til a survey question asked it that there are people who don't brush their tongue when brushing their teeth. Like holy shit dude, there are SO many germs on your tongue, clean that shit. Regarding the last good choice (healthy choice, kind choice, selfless choice, etc.) you made, what was your real motivation behind it? Ummmm the nearest that comes to mind is I guess taking my meds? I mean I do that every single day, but it's still a healthy choice for me. The motivation was because I am very serious about doing what I can for my mental wellbeing. What is something that you have had to practice at to get the hang of it? If you can’t think of anything, that’s okay, what’s something you are currently practicing at and trying to master? I really can't think of something for the first half of the question, but I can tell you that right now I'm attempting to force a routine of applying a therapy technique called "opposite action" into my daily life, where you, well, do the exact opposite of what your depression tells you to not do. It is WAY harder than it sounds, but I'm doing it with reading 30 minutes a day! Have you ever gone to the store to buy something, like a video game, when it came out at midnight? Not to my recollection, no. Regarding the last novel you read, was there a romance included? If so, was it central to the plot? The last novel I finished, yes. It wasn't central to the plot. Have you ever done relaxation meditations or listened to relaxation guides or positive-thinking/healing recordings? No, except in therapy when different therapists wanted me to experiment with it during a session. They just don't work for me. Do you have any interests that are also often shared by children? Yeah. Those are the one I'm especially self-conscious about. there something that could be a solitary activity but you really only like to do it with other people (e.g., watching movies, playing video games, etc.)? Watching movies or TV. Are you satisfied with the interior design or decoration in your home? Or do you think it needs a total home makeover? A makeover would be nice... Is there something that you’d like to own but you can’t find it anywhere? If not, can you a remember a time when you wanted something? Did you ever end up finding it or did you eventually stop wanting it? OKAY SO I actually have seen this custom-made once long after deciding I wanted it, but it was RIDICULOUSLY expensive. There's a location in the Silent Hill games called Heaven's Night, and I'd love love LOVE to commission someone to duplicate the neon pink sign of it to hang in my room. Hopefully one day I could still do it. Who makes you smile the most? Probably my cat, honestly. What piercings do you want/have? I've talked about the piercings I have, but I'll talk about those I want. My #1 is absolutely collarbone dermals, but as I've explained a billion times, I want to lose weight so the bones are more prominent for the sake of contrast; you can't really see my collarbones now, so I just think it'd look pretty dumb and random to just have random piercings somewhere around there with no dimension. I also want way more in my ears, dermals in my back dimples also once I've lost weight, my right nostril for the dozenth time (but this time I'll wear a hoop), and while I'd absolutely adore an undereye microdermal as well, it'd be pointless with glasses. :/ What's your favorite website? KM is my pride and joy and really feels like my online home, so despite using sites like YouTube more, that 'ole RP site has to be my fave. Do you own a fish tank with fish? No. I had fish bowls (AWFUL idea) as a kid, but never tanks Do you like the movie 300? Never seen it. Do you pop your knuckles? NOOOOOOOOOOO. I absolutely hate the sound. It makes me cringe and shiver. Do you have Photoshop? Yes. It comes in the Adobe CC photography bundle I have. Do you use tinypic or photobucket? I used Photobucket back in the day. Now I just upload to imgur. What’s your favourite song from the 1980s? You're talking to someone who adores classic rock/metal, haha. How about the 1990s? There are way too many songs to choose from. Have you won anything recently? No. How often do you make Excel tables? What for? Never. What was the last baby animal you saw in the wild? There was a poor fawn as roadkill on the highway recently. :/ Are you always available or online? Preeeetty much. Do you have dietary restrictions? Or do you just eat what you like? I can eat whatever. Do you prefer gold, silver or steel jewelry? Or no jewelry at all? Steel. I'm allergic to silver, and I think steel is more subtle than gold. Have you been binge-watching any shows lately? If so, what? No. If you dye your hair, do you do it yourself or go to a salon? I do it at a salon. If you have any, do you like your in-laws? I don’t have any. Would it bother you, if your partner had cut contact with their parents? If they had a good reason, no. Have you ever wondered whether you were adopted? As a kid I did because I thought Mom was meaner to me than my siblings, lol. What’s the best physical feeling in the entire universe? ........... This question is a setup lmfao. Have you ever grown a berry bush? No. Have you done something new to your hair recently? No. It's been the same for quite a while. I wanna dye it badly. Do you have bad anxiety? If so, do you take any kind of medication for it? I'm diagnosed with generalized and social anxiety, so yeah. I take Klonopin once and day and Ativan as needed for attacks. One thing you’ve experienced that you thought you never would have? HA, the first thing to come to mind was being noticed by Mark by making a viral (in the community, anyway) gif of he and his doggy. I shit you not, I couldn't sleep for three days lmfao. What was the last thing someone said to you that kept repeating over & over in your head? That I gained fucking seven pounds in two months at my last doctor appointment. I wanted to scream. How often do you have late nights out? Never. I'm a homebody. If you could, would you work from home? Do you think that would make you more or less productive? No. It would absolutely make me less productive. If you had the ability to change the weather, what would you change it to right now? Cool with a nice breeze, mostly clear skies, crisp air... That'd be nice right now. Is there something that you really need to do, but can’t seem to get motivated to do it? I say it all the time: finish decorating my room. It's funny, because I KNOW I'll feel more at home and cozy with my bedroom more personalized. Most disturbing movie you have ever seen? Paranormal Entity. The ending was... a lot. Has a life goal or dream ever come true for you yet? If yes, what is it? If no, do you think you’ll achieve it? Not that I can think of. .-. I hope I can achieve some... Have you ever had food poisoning? No, thank God. What are you listening to? "The Man Who Made a Monster" by Dance With the Dead. Do you think there will be a WWIII? I find it inevitable at some point down humanity's future. People are too hateful for it not to eventually. Has anyone ever asked you if you were emo? Yeah. Has someone ever liked you that you never thought would? Maybe? Idk. In all honesty, can a person be too nice? Yes, in some instances. Has one of your friend’s boyfriends ever tried to cheat on them with you? Yes, when I was around 12. And I let it happen. It's one of my biggest regrets. Is mental abuse really as bad as physical abuse? Of course it is. Emotional abuse can cut just as deep as some physical blows, or even deeper. Do you shop at Sephora for make-up? No. Zelda: Twilight Princess or Ocarina of Time? I'm actually not into TLoZ. Do you own a rosary? I did as a kid growing up in a Catholic Sunday school. If you were homeless, how would you cope? If I had no loved ones in my life and no sign of things getting better, I'm honestly preeetty sure I'd end my life.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''under the graveyard'' by ozzy osbourne

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punkandsnacks · 4 years ago

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Between Wolves & Doves, Chapter 16; Escape

Author: @punk-in-docs & @adamsnackdriver

Also on AO3-

Masterlist-

Trigger Warnings: No warnings in this chap

Synopsis: Vampire!Kylo x OC love story. Inspired by BBC’s Dracula. Also inspired by Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

He’s been stalking this earth long since civilizations can possibly fathom. Before records even began. He sneers at the fact that this pitiful young world has only just begun to see his reign of it.

He’s dined with moguls, emperors, princes. He’s consorted with bloodthirsty ruthless Queens in their courts, and whispered into the ears of powerful King’s, whose names still echo through millennia.

In his myriad of centuries gifted to his immortal self he’s been many many things. He’s been a lowly pauper. A crusading knight. An assassin. A sell sword. A soldier. A wanderer. A simpering suitor and a voracious unyielding lover. Aimlessly lost in time- besieging this earth. Ripping it apart and drinking what’s left.

He was made in the hinterland between snow and dirt and pine trees. Crusted with ash and blood and gouged from battle. Born anew. Sired from the hell-mouth of war. He was made in 789 AD.

He’ll come undone, one bitter winter night, in England, in 1816.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

t's not the shade we should be cast in It's the light and it's the obstacle that casts it It's the heat that drives the light It's the fire it ignites It's not the wakin', it's the risin' - Nina Cried Power, Hozier I don’t know why, but something about this song spoke to me writing this chapter 🖤❣️ Along with “Running Away” by Maverick Sabre. One of my favourite artists of all time - go and check him out, he’s simply awesome.

Waiting was her greatest nuisance. She was on tenterhooks all day.

As if expecting someone to burst in and proclaim the true circumstance of her guilt. She’s peeking around corners and dreading every moment of cursed silence. Every lapse in conversation is a dagger in her side. She keeps expecting to be caught out.

By the time the evening draws in, she’s nearly apoplectic. She’s sat in the parlour watching the sky darken. And with every second of it blackening her excitement grows in her chest. Gestating bigger and bigger with every second she hears tick by on the mantel clock.

She hardly spoke through dinner. Just listened to her sisters usual fussing and Mama disapproving of yet someone else of their acquaintance. Iris won’t miss that.

She nearly leaps out her skin when Meg bursts in the clattering dining room door without warning, with a note to hand her father. A missive from the farmhand.

Her heartbeat slows to its normal thud. She’s unaware that her father watches her from down the table with a casting silent eye and a look of concern. Mama and the girls were none the wiser.

Then they sit in the parlour as night is heavy and steely blue-black at the window like a velvet drape. Fire and candlelight cloaks them all as the girls embroider. Mama reads a novel, and father sits behind the spread wall of his paper.

Iris takes a moment to look around at them.

She catches her fathers eye as he turns the page over in his papers. He gives her a fleeting smile that passes the time of day. She watches the way the ochre of the flames in the half blade off the lense of his reading glasses. He returns to his pages.

She’ll miss his silent sympathy. His calm presence was a balm she doesn’t know how she can be without.

She looks across at her vain, silly simpering sisters. She’s astonished to find that she will miss them too.

She’ll miss their gossiping and - amazingly - the screeching matches that erupt over who gets to wear their new bonnet or who gets the silk slippers. Or Iris’s pretty pieces of jewellery. Apart from two very adored beloved pieces she’s taking, she’s leaving the rest for them to scrap over. She smiles thinking on it.

It’s odd to think she’ll be in Bavaria. Living in a castle as a Lady to Lord Ren. And she’ll think of home, and she’ll grin, wondering if her vapid sisters will be fighting tooth and claw - having a tug of war - over her earrings or her pearl clasp bracelet.

She’ll miss Flora’s fiery head. In both temper and colouring. How bravely she defends her poor choices in various men of the militia. Then loves a completely different one the next day. She’ll miss how she always puts a pouch of dried flowers on Iris’s pillow when she picks too many - she always picks too many.

And Posy. Posy and her dreadful sweet tooth. How she always gave Iris heaps of her favourite pudding even though mama insisted she didn’t want her eldest getting too plump. Posy scraped it all onto Iris’s plate when her head was turned. Even if it was her sisters favourite.

And even though the way she borrows her books and dog ears the pages makes iris grit her teeth - she’s going to miss that dreadfully. She’ll see some plain unspoiled page corner in a book and her heart will pang and ring, sobbing, and longing for home.

Such longing.

Yearning for her squabbling siblings. For the sight and scent of her father’s study. For her tribe, where she has belonged for all these three and twenty years of her life. She’s sad that she can’t seem to belong here anymore. That’s one thing that causes her grief her about this arrangement. She must be apart from the three people she loves most.

She isn’t sorry to be leaving. Running away and absconding like a thief in the night. She can’t deny that this is her golden chance to escape. Flee from the life that drowned her.

This is her chance to share in a soul shaking love. One that’s seared her devotion to Kylo right down into the marrow of her bones. Scored his name on her heart in bleeding letters. She’s forever devoted. In a way none of them can yet - or will ever - understand.

She hopes in time, they will forgive her. That their leniency will outweigh the scandal and betrayal of her actions.

She casts a glance across to her mother where she silently reads her novel. No affection springs to mind.

Perhaps if she’d loved her daughter more, Iris could hate her less. If she’d even been affectionate instead of plotting. As it stands selling her eldest like a broodmare to matrimony, didn’t encourage anything for Iris beyond resentment. She was in a loveless unhappy marriage and she has no qualms about seeing her eldest shoehorned into something exactly the same. That is unforgivable in Iris’s mind. To experience the trials of such a match for years - and to then glean no lessons from it. It’s cruel.

And all for her want of connection-

Iris refocuses on her embroidery hoop. Stabbing thread harshly through the muslin and looping it through. She works diligently until the fire starts to die down. Father retires to bed. Watching his eldest with sparkling green eyes as he quits the room. Iris is preoccupied looking into her lap at her sewing.

She too heads for bed. Feigning tiredness even though she’s never been more wired. Never been so wide awake. And she was trying not to do anything out of the ordinary as per her usual routine.

She walks past her mothers and her sisters with a lump in her throat. Committing the last few scraps of moments of them to memory. “Goodnight Flora, Posy. Goodnight Mama.” She says simply as she crosses the room.

They call affable words her way. Mother opts for a single word in passing. “Night.”

Iris wonders if she’ll realise one day that would be the last words she ever spoke to her.

She opens the parlour door and slips out. The fire in the foyer hearth crackles. She sees father is in his study. Judging by the slithering glow of candlelight under the door.

She so badly wants to rush in and sob her goodbyes into his chest. Cry that she doesn’t understand how he could’ve sat there and watches Mama push and shove and pummel her around. She’ll never understand - but all the same, that doesn’t stop her from loving him dearly.

She thinks better of it. Climbs the stairs for bed. Confines herself in her dark bedroom. And then comes the true test of her bravery. She has to wait.

And wait and wait. And listen. Hearing as the whole house slowly drifts to dark. To sleep. For everyone to take to their beds.

She can’t read a novel. She can barely stand sitting still. She sits by the fire. Watching the door. Her bag was packed hours ago. Her meagre clutch of possessions. Some loved items and a couple of her favourite dresses and chemises.

She had penned a note for her family explaining every detail of her reasons for leaving. She left a separate letter for a Hux. Though he’ll probably cast it in the fire when he hears the news.

She’ll be leaving the heirloom engagement ring sat on top of it. Leaving the two ruinous sheets of paper on the end of her bed. Waiting for tomorrow. When it’s discovered she is gone.

Her bag sits by her feet. Along with her coat. She sits in the dark like a lonely widow and lets the amber glow of the fire die.

She’s already laced into her new wool lined boots. She wore two sets of stockings and her heaviest chemise.

She’s in a thick ruby wool dress that will be adequate for travelling. It’s rather a plain gown but it’s warm - he had said to dress warm.

She puts her hair into a free loose bun at the nape of her neck. Tied back with a snip of gold muslin. Her skirts will wrinkle in the coach but she doesn’t care about such a thing. She probably looks dishevelled and not at all pretty. But she cares not-

Everything is ready. Now there is only noiselessness. And anticipation

She hears her sisters dainty thumping treads. And then mothers stern steps. And then Meg and Julia gabbing about something, a man most likely, as they extinguish the candles on the landing and all over the walls and hallways. Putting the whole house into thick dull silence and darkness. Putting the day to rest.

She listens to their footsteps creak and creep up the attic stairs. The door closing in their wake.

Iris crosses to her door and opens it a crack. Peering out she can see nothing but the dull moonlight striping from the far landing window, across the floorboards. Silver streaks chase up to her door in the fluttering moonlight swaying in drips off the tree being fussed in the wind outside. Snow is starting to flake down onto the windowpane.

She shuts the door again. It was nearly midnight and her hour is approaching. She prays her bravery rises to meet it.

Father hasn’t come up yet. He was still in his study most like - she can get out the house without disturbing him. She’s certain. He’s dozed off in his armchair or got his head in his business letters and ledgers for the farm.

She puts her coat and slips her gloves on, she has second thoughts about her scarf and shoves it in her bag.

It contained her life, this travel bag, yet it seemed laughably light. And it carried everything she cherished. There’s something a little tragic about that, she decides.

She seized her bag in one hand, and her modest bonnet in the other. To disguise her hair. Should anyone catch a glimpse of her, out unchaperoned, at this time of night. If they recognised her. She can’t be too careful.

She steps to her door, bonnet and bag in hand. Coat on her back, and she stands there, glancing around at what’s left. She spied the two innocent squares of paper sat on her neatly made bed.

Such small things. And yet the words inked within those pages will alter lives. It seems an odd sort of cruel madness.

She silently steps out into the hall. Shuts the door on her room for good. Shuts the door on all this kind of life had offered her. She edges slowly along the floorboards. Listening to the clock in the foyer tinkle the chimes of the half hour before approaching midnight.

She wished she could give her siblings proper goodbyes. She thinks this as she tiptoed past their door. Her shoe creaks the whining boards and she freezes. Heart thudding up to choke in her mouth.

She feels horrified and sick, until her ears strain for noise and all she can hear is night drawing on around the stone walls outside.

She relaxed and crept further along the landing. The tips of her new shoes avoiding the truly noisy spots. She makes it to the top of the stairs and edges down inch by hushed inch. Glove skimming along the banister in a scraping soft hiss as she goes. When she gets to the foyer she creeps toward the door to the kitchens.

A figure awaits her in the armchair. By a dwindling fire.

Iris gasps and almost drops her bag. Her fear bubbled up and made her lip tremble terribly. She’d been caught out. Oh god no. She opens her mouth to speak but no defence comes.

Her father turns his head from where he’s sat fireside in his dressing gown, in his slippers breeches and shirt. Persian house slippers on his feet. His glasses were folded in his hands and there is a pensive weight on his greying brow.

“Papa...” She squeaks in a horrified whisper.

He eyes the bag and her coat. He is not a senseless man. He’s already well assessed what this means.

He swallows and rises to his feet. Lumbering up to his full, tall height. Pushing himself up off the chair by the arms. Like an aged old oak standing proud.

When he turns into the path of the moonlight flooded window behind him, it’s then that she sees the tears in his eyes. And ones that already stained down his cheeks. Her mouth gapes.

“Forgive me. I didn’t intend you to see me in this state...” He glances at her with red rimmed eyes. Raw and stark against the hazel bottle green of his pupils.

Iris is saddened for him. Turns out she wasn’t the only being in this house to cry alone.

“You are... leaving. So I see.” He comments offhand.

“I can’t marry him. Papa.” She blurts out in a hush.

“I’m sorry. I know you’ll want to stop me. That I’m ruining the family with reckless abandon. To convince me to stay. But you can’t. I cannot do it. I can’t walk into a life I will be leading falsely...” She tries summoning and explanation.

Her father cuts through her speech. Coming closer and clasping her hand in his. “Iris. Iris my dear-“ He soothes. He draws both her hands into his.

“I know.” He answers.

“I have no intention of stopping you. I only wished to detain you for a moment, to give you my blessing.” He offers.

She could be taken down with a tiny waft of a feather.

“Don’t mistake me. Please do not think me blind to your happiness, like your mother is.” He begins.

She’s aghast.

“I have watched you for these past few weeks. Grinding your teeth and holding that tongue of yours back when that entitled boy makes a remark you don’t agree with. I have watched him belittle and ignore you. And pass you over. To treat you as no more than a fertile vessel or commodity to be won. I want more life for you, than his meagre offering.” He holds firm.

“He dulls you. My dear. And you are too sharp and curious and intelligent to marry such a mulish man, who would never appreciate what a strong, kind and capable wife he has.”

Iris cries.

“He already sets your jaw on edge, even now. I can see it. And I cannot, will not, suffer the pain of seeing you trapped unto a marriage where your partner can never love nor respect you.” He tells her. “I know the pain well. It is not palatable.” He sighs.

He drops his eyes in shame. “I have not been a decent father to you. I have let my influence and opinion be set aside in favour of your being governed and bullied by your mother.” He bites out. His eyes fill with more tears. Voice strained.

“I am a coward. Iris-“ He begins.

She shakes her head. But he’s resolute to continue.

“No. I am. I am. And I’ve been weak. And what’s worse still is that I was a silent coward. I didn’t even speak up for the joy of my own daughter. I will never live that... dishonour...down. So long as I breathe. And for that, I am so very sorry. And you have all of my penitence for such a crime.” He says to her. Wringing her hands in his desperately.

“Oh, papa.” She cries. Voice no more than a croak. She throws herself in his arms and he sobs as he clutches her. Sways her into a hug and buried his mouth in her hair. Holding her close. He sniffs and sobs. She feels his chest bob with his cries.

“There is nothing you need apologise for.” She assures him.

Mr Ashton smiles. She was the sweetest soul under this roof. And he’ll miss her with every passing minute.

He pulls back and cups her hands. He doesn’t hide his tears. He doesn’t hide any of it and Iris aches with love for him.

“There is a great deal I must be sorry for, My sweet. I will live out the guilt of it eventually. So long as I’m contented that you are safe and happy.” He says gently. “That can be my saving grace.”

“Lord Ren is a very decent man by all accounts. I’m sorry I can’t claim to know him better than I do.” He counsels.

“I love him.” Iris says freely.

The first time she’s admitted it aloud and it makes more tears come. Father gives her his kerchief and tells her to keep it for the journey awaiting ahead of her.

“Then he is the most worthy and decent man living. Because you are every good thing embodied. And he couldn’t be lacking of those virtues either, or he simply wouldn’t be deserving of you.” He comments truthfully.

He sighs a deep breath. “Get out of this cursed god-forsaken village Iris.” He squeezes her hands tighter. Shaking his head.

Be free.

“Get out of this rotten bloody place and go to him. Marry the man your heart wants. I never did wed for true love, and it’s haunted me, my entire life long.” He promises.

She was the only decent thing his marriage has ever brought to him.

She hugs him again. “I’ll miss you most sorely.” She pledges.

“And I, you.” He strokes her back. Shuts his eyes and savours his daughter before she’s lost to him for who knows how long.

She pulls away he strokes hair off her cheek. Blinking in the sight of her face in the moonlight. For the last few seconds of her in actuality. Committing her to memory. For that’s all he’ll have of her soon.

“With you gone, I sincerely doubt I shall hear anything sensible cross your relatives tongues for quite some time.” He japes.

“Remark upon me in my poor state, once in a while, won’t you. And pray for my dear fraying sanity.” He sweeps more tears away. She blots them onto the back of her gloves.

“I’ll pray daily.” She smiles weakly. Bag in hand. Aswell as her bonnet. If that didn’t educate on the silliness of her sisters - nothing would.

He pauses to retrieve something from the mantel. She sees he clasps a little curved silver item. No bigger than a matchbox. Swirled with ornate silver gilding. He takes it and pressed it into her palm. It strikes a sudden zing of cold at her palm. She knows this ornament. It is the music box. The small Fabergé one that sat on the shelf in his office. His grandfather had imported it from Paris on his travels for her grandmother.

“I would like you to have this. So you have a piece of Ashton heirloom in your pocket as you go away to a brave new world.” He insists.

Iris opens the lid and the little while nightingale pops up, springing free to sing it’s call. She clasps it gently.

“I couldn’t-” She sobs. She remembers her sisters admiring it too. It seemed unfair he should gift it to her.

“No tears. My dear. No tears, I beg you. It’s yours and I’m bestowing it to you. I want you to see it and remark on those here at home, who still and have always loved you. Even if we didn’t show it as we ought.” He insists. Taking his hands from her.

She looks across at him. She’d been mistaken to think herself unloved by her parents. He did love her. He could just never bring himself to say so. Iris is awfully glad he’s taken this moment before all is lost.

“Go now. Make haste. Don’t linger too long bidding me farewell.” He offers. Walking with her across to the hallway leading to the kitchen. She tucks the music box safely in her bag. It chimes and chirps as she nestled it into her clothes. She reaches for him once more.

Iris squeezes his hand. “You have all my love. I’ll write when I can. Not for her.” She shakes her head, biting the word crossly. “But for you-“ She pledges.

“Send it to Mr. Grayson at the farm. He’ll see it reaches me safe.” He urges. She smiles. Nodding. Tears sparkling down her face.

“I’m sorry to say I will have shrouded this house in shame and gossip come the morning.” She frets.

He shakes his head with a fond smile. “We are tougher than we look. Never more so than when we are tested.” He assures. Such confidence in his Apple green and red raw eyes. She instantly believes him.

She throws herself into a hug. Fists a hand in his dressing gown shoulder and takes a deep breath of him one last time. Old leather musk of books and the sting of peppermint. “I love you.” She gasps with sad finality.

He nods. Swallowing a lump of stony sadness down in his throat.

“I wish you all the luck in the world, my dear dear girl.” He smiles. Eyes wet again. He cups her face and admires her for a second.

She clasps his hand tight at her cheek. And then she lets go-

He doesn’t have the strength to watch her leave. It’s too sad. Too hard.

He looks away and doesn’t return his eyes until the latch on the kitchen door softly clicks back into place in its frame.

The air hums with the absence of her. He prays to any god listening to convey her safely into Lord Ren’s arms.

He’d accompany her himself if it wouldn’t be so ruinous to explain come the morning. Why he was out of bed and out of doors at such an hour should anyone wish to seek after him. And she’ll move quicker without his old legs slowing her down.

He turns his eyes up to the snowy swirled heavens. And wills for her to have a better life than the one he could offer her here. He hopes he can see her again one day. When all this has passed. The hope for her is his salvation.

She scarpers across the moonlit lawn. Grass cold and crunching with frost under her feet. Snow is beading gently out the sky.

The clear moon of earlier has been replaced by chowder thick clouds. The cold wraps around her in a harsh biting embrace. Stinging at her exposed skin and making her hurry along all the more.

She takes the back lane to the woods. She didn’t wish to risk walking out in full view of the front of the house, down the drive. The road is pale with ice and dusted with snow. Icing sugar powder of it spills over her shoes.

The woods are already thick with it. Black trunks loom thin and warped; born out the white blanket of the ground. The tips of the trees blaze with flakes caught between them. Flecking the leaves.

She crunches her way along the lane. Her stride was something between a skip and scurry. Breath ghosting up in the air and her heart rattling in her ears. Her lungs sting and burn dry with cold as her breath drags into her body.

She cuts through the woods. Afraid her interlude with her father has made her late, and now Kylo would be worried she’d snubbed him.

She runs quick through the trees. Snapping slushing and scuffing twigs, frost and snow underfoot. Cold sneaks up her skirts where she holds them up to run but she doesn’t care- doesn’t even notice.

The trees are so gathered, that the branches rip at her skin as she sprints through them. Tears at her hair and her clothes. Snags are her and her cheeks sting. She bats away the grabbing things. They were like hands trying to tug her back. Trying to keep her tamed. To root her to this place. She’s having none of it.

Her hair got tangled in the snatching trees too. Pulls and only when she feels loose strands lap at her neck does she realise that the muslin had been torn and ripped right out. She presses onwards.

Her face stings and her eyes stream with cold. She comes up the lane that leads her to the church. Gnarled and slanted stubby shapes of the mossy gravestones are fog grey against the snow and the dark. Broken teeth of them rearing like lumpy beasts up out the snow. She throws the church gate open. Doesn’t care that it creaks. She runs up the worn grass path shoes scuffing at the pristine falling snow.

She comes out into the code of woods the other side of the church. The thing emerged out the snow with shimmering silver stone and the slate of its roof is edged with white where flakes settle. Oozing between the cold stony cracks.

The stained glass windows look dead and dull. The colours murkier in the dark. Smoky black and bleeding crimson staining the glass. The whites of the painted saints eyes seem to be arcing and watching over her in derisory disappointment.

She doesn’t glance back. She makes for the woods where she knows he’ll be waiting. She holds her skirts and she laughs as she runs. Her lungs puffed dry and freezing. But she’s so giddy she feels like her sides will split. Her cheeks ache from smiling. Not far to tread now. The cyclops of the moon hiding behind murky clouds watches her too. Silently keeping her secret.

She clears the worst of the trees and her heart soars when she sees a stark black shape of a coach up ahead. With an equally as tall dark haired man. His back to her as he stands in the snow. Head bowed down in his hands. Hair ruffled and dotted with flecks of it.

She presses a hand to her tummy where she suspects she now has a stitch. Because it simply feels so stupid - the amount of love and bliss thats coursing through her blood.

Kylo is outside the coach, of course he is. He’s much the same as her. He can’t sit still.

The gigantic elegant thing that will convey them to the Highlands set by the edge of the snowy muddy road. He’s pacing on it. Horses stamping in the cold. A shivering driver bundled up in pelts and thick coats.

He’s on the painful knifes edge of fretting. She’s not here yet. And it’s well past midnight. He’s worn circles in the snowy road. His coat heavily lapping and catching at his calves. The cold doesn’t bother him. Doesn’t touch him. He’s wearing a white shirt with the collar left undressed and pulled open.

It spills down his marble carved chest. Revealing him to the dark bitter woods and the snow.

He keeps bringing his silver pocket watch to hand - she’s ten minutes delayed. He watches the eleventh minute tick over.

His mind runs with the possibilities. She could’ve fallen and broken something in her haste.

She might’ve been discovered sneaking out and her mother tied her down, locked her in her bedchamber and threw away the key for good measure. His brain bubbles with mania and panic at the possibilities that could keep her from him.

He turns another circle and scans the horizon again. Sharp eyes not missing a thing. A cold breeze shudders across him from up the road. He stops dead in his tracks. That scent.

That was her. She was here.

He whips around, hands falling by his sides. Just in time to see her emerge quickly from the misty white of the woods.

Clad in her blue coat and a red dress. Her bag in hand. Her hair loose, curling and spilling over her shoulders. Cheeks are red and icy cold. Stung by the wind.

She’s never looked more lovely. So wild and free. And all his.

Her smile grows so great. As does his. She slows to a stop. Panting for breath that she’ll never catch. Not now. Not with him stood there looking all dashing.

Iris hikes her skirts and coat up, and runs straight to him and she’s no shame about it either.

She drops her bag on her way to him, uncaring for its contents. He meets her halfway. Their bodies clash in such a tempest of love.

She throws herself into his chest and he hauls her up so her feet don’t touch the ground. His strength was always so vastly great and he shows it in the way he lifts her so easily. Cradles the precious small weight of her in his big arms.

They collapse into glad sighs and she strokes her hand over his hair. Smiling out in bliss as she holds the back of his head. He clutched her back and her hair and buried his face in the crook of her cold neck. It delights and thrills her and she can’t conceive she can deserve so much happiness-

He sighs into her neck. Smiling into her skin. He draws back and looks right at her beautiful cold-kissed complexion. “Ready for this adventure? Lady Ren...” He asks. Cupping her cheek and most of her jaw.

“Wholeheartedly.” She answers.

He plucks a soft lingering kiss at her cheek and sets her down. Scoops up her bag and her hand and leads her through the crunching snow into the coach.

He opens the door for her and she clambers in. Erland snorts and shifts and stamps at her even from up the front of the carriage. Determined to have his share - he was such a diva he could never be left out.

“She’s coming with us, you great big fool.” Kylo comments to his horse. Iris laughs at their exchange as she settles herself in the plush velvet lined carriage.

Scarlet draping over every inch of it. A watery patch of moonlight slanted and cast down from the windows in the doors. She scoots across the bench for Kylo to sit next to her. He then commands his driver to set off.

Pelts and blankets and garnet silk brocade bolster-cushions line the seat opposite. He’s stuffed it with comforts for her. There’s a basket hamper of food and bottles of drink and a stack of leather bound books. She requires rest and sustenance. He seldom does. Not more than a handful of hours per night. But he’ll enjoy slumbering next to her.

Kylo shuts the door after himself. A gust of snow blooms with the force of it. Puffing into the velvet space. They are quite alone. And the carriage lurches off into that snowy dark midnight. Their new life together begins.

He greets her properly. Makes sure she’s snug in pelts and blankets and tips her face up to his by the chin to kiss her again. Her face pulls into an expression of agonised bliss. Tugs her closer closer closer.

Wraps his fingers around the back of one hip. Slithered his fingers between her coat and her dress.

He nudges her jaw out his way with a cheeky smile and shoved his nose into her hair to push it aside, nips and nibbles sucking teasing kisses down her neck that makes her shiver. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. You’ve no idea how long I’ve been dying to kiss your soft neck.” He grumbles.

He sucks an open mouthed kiss over her pulse and she moans and pants his name. Fingers trapping into the blankets as she says his name like she’s chiding him. They can both feel the desire marching over every vertebrae of her spine.

She shivers. God that felt good. Made her weak. Made her eyes roll back.

“Oh kylo.” She moans. Her toes curl with the sheer raw power of his seductive kisses.

He finds her left hand on her lap and strokes the empty space on her fourth finger.

“Now. I think I had better make this elopement of ours authentic. Had I not?” He smirks. Reaching for his coat pocket.

Then he’s drawing something small out the shadow coloured wool. Her lips part in a smile when he snaps open a small blue velvet box. She’s blinded by diamonds and sapphires.

A cluster of them all crowning a gold band which is set with more gems. Two sapphires surround a large round diamond. Rounded and sparkling gems.

He’s watching her carefully - with a smug expression taking over him as he plucks the ring out its silken nest and slips off her glove slowly, then slots it up onto her finger. It glides on and sits perfectly. He lets her admire for a second. Before lifting the back of her hand to his lips.

“It’s too beautiful.” She comments. Amazed at it. He reaches for the curtain at the window and draws it back. Let’s the moonlight shimmer off the cluster of stones. Fractured light drips everywhere.

“Now that looks a worthy decoration to sit on that pretty kind hand.” He smiles. Before he frowns and turns her head towards him. A curl of copper and iron drifts into his nose.

“Dove. You’re bleeding...” He remarks. When he turns her face there’s paper thin red scratches swiped across her cheeks. She raises her hand to her skin and brings away a dribble of blood.

“I ran through the trees. I must have hurt my cheeks and not realised.”

“How could you not realise?” He asks her as he brings her finger to his mouth and naughtily, suavely puts that fingertip on his tongue and sucks off the blood. Curls his tongue around her taste to savour the way most men would appreciate a fine burgundy wine.

It makes something throb between her legs when he gets his lips on her. His eyes look like they could cut her with a look.

Her blood coating his tongue is too sweet for words. Sweet sweet bouquet. An agonising temptation that he only wants more of.

“I was smiling too much to notice.” She admits in a blush. Chewing on the inside of her lower lip.

He kisses at that blushing sore cheek. Pressing his lips to the barely bleeding cut. It should help soothe and close it. “That makes me insatiably glad to hear.” He smiles.

She searches for his hand and holds it. “I’m sorry I was late to meet you. I ran into my father as I was leaving.” She explains as he leans in to kiss her jaw again.

He pulls back and his face turns rather serious and stern. “He didn’t try and stop you?” He seeks.

“He could not stand to see me wed to such a loveless man as Hux. He gave me his blessing to wed you. I didn’t think I’d be walking away with that.” She tells.

He suspected there was a reason to Mr. Ashton’s silence. And now he knew; it was guilt. He’s glad to see she is loved from her fathers quarter. It soothes him.

“I’m glad you were able to make your peace with him.” He confesses. Holding her dear sweet little hand in his own massive grasp.

She looks up at him. At that handsome earnest face that is watching her so intently. So full of love and desire.

“As am I. But for now. Can I be terribly audacious and ask you to kiss me again?” She seeks with a grin.

She squealed nearly as Kylo tugs her tight into his lap. Folds her thighs over his. One hand covering her ribs under her dress. Fingers teasing under the swell of her breast. His smirking lips kiss and nibble under her jaw and she gasps in bliss.

“Thought you’d never ask...” He smirks and growls into the scorching heat of her neck. It tumbled right through her and she knows more desire is to come.

”And if you hadn’t? I’d have had to taste those pretty lips without your permission.” He sighs cheekily.

He swoops up and takes her mouth and she truly things she might burst into flames.

His silky tongue falls like cream running along her lower lip. She shivers at the sheer erotic desire of it. And this is only the start-

He’ll need to be careful. Or he’ll have kissed her lips raw by the time they reach Scotland.

#between wolves & doves #vampire!kylo #kylo ren x oc #adam driver #Regency era #slow burn

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dreamcatcherfication · 5 years ago

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The Queens of London Part 3 - My Loneliness is Killing Me

Hello hello hello! Chapter three has arrived, and boy does this one have some developments in it. (I say that like action happens. It doesn’t really). This chapter is mainly exposition and worldbuilding for you all, but there is some good drama throughout and some action in there. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my dog ate my chromebook.

Writing Masterpost

NOTE: I know historically that Katherine Brandon is Maria de Salinas’s daughter, but for the sake of this story we’re going to pretend that they aren’t related. Otherwise, it would cause a lot of plot holes with Maria’s involvement with the queens that’s just way too hard to work out for how the story is being written.

If anyone wants to send in prompts or requests, my inbox is always open, I love hearing from you all! Here are some prompts and asks if you ever feel like dropping by:

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Random Asks

Trigger Warnings: Vague mentions of sexual abuse

Part 1 | Part 2

The Queens and their ladies sat around the table listening to what Jane and Joan had gathered on Kat. “She was very uncomfortable,” Jane noted.

“Especially when I called her Brandon,” Joan threw in. “This girl’s hiding something, the only problem is we don’t know what.”

Cathy twirled a pen in her fingers. “Well this certainly complicates things.”

“Why don’t we just confront her on it?” Anne asked.

Maggie nodded along with her. “She can’t lie to all of us.”

“No,” Aragon sighed, “that wouldn’t work. She’d get defensive. If nine suspicious women surrounded you and demanded the truth, would you confess?” Anne let her eyes fall as her suggestion was rejected.

“Why are we talking about Kat as if she’s already a criminal?” Anna asked from her chair. She was leaning on the arm and had her leg up at an angle, a stance she put on to suggest that she had little stake in the conversation. Really, the others knew Anna had a big heart and was willing to intervene on behalf of any of them.

“She’s right,” Jane agreed. “I can keep an eye on her, like you all suggested, but other than that, we leave it be. Kat looks properly like a kid, we shouldn’t treat her like a hardened criminal.”

Cathy sat up and reminded the group, “She does supposedly deal with the Black Market, though.”

“Yes, we can’t forget about that,” Maria affirmed.

Rubbing her forehead, Bessie stood up. “I usually just let you do your thing, but this is dragging on. Let me just do a quick synopsis and then we can go home, kay?” When there was no objection from any of the others, Bessie continued, “Okay. Katherine Brandon, well known for her popular record label and dealings with the Black Market, has never been seen in public. Apparently, that’s because she looks like a seventeen year old. Although we don’t officially know her age, something’s clearly wrong with this whole situation. What I believe we’re all thinking right now is that Katherine Brandon is an alias.”

“Exactly,” Joan pointed at Bessie. “She flinches every time we say her name. Normally I would suggest that means she isn’t Katherine Brandon, but there’s no way anyone else could have gotten ahold of that note. Besides, what random person opens an envelope not addressed to them?”

Agreeing with Joan, Bessie finished the basic rundown. “We can’t directly confront her on this suspicion, but we can have Jane keep an eye on her. There will be no stalking,” she said this directly in Anne’s direction. “And things will continue as planned. Sound good?”

There was unanimous agreement among the group as they disbanded the meeting. As everyone got up, Anne pulled Cathy to the side. “Hey, is it just me or is there something familiar about Kat?”

The journalist frowned. “Not that I could tell. Why ask me?”

Anne shrugged and hid an embarrassed face. “You know the most, I figured if anyone would have any idea, it would be you.”

Giving Anne a kind smile, Cathy clicked her pen. “Well I’ll keep an eye out and tell you if I suddenly recognize her.”

“Thanks Cathy.” Those were the last words the queens exchanged before leaving for the night, set to return at the same time tomorrow.

Making it home, Kat immediately went to her old laptop and worked on getting it running. She had the thing from when she still lived with her father, but after being kicked out she was unable to get anything better. When the screen was properly lit, she typed in Jane Seymour Joan and waited for any information to pop up. First off, she got a bunch of photos of Jane at promotional events with Joan at her side. The two of them looked close, maybe even siblings.

There was an article attached to one of the pictures, so Kat clicked on it and started reading. “Joan Meutas is the co-owner of the Seymour fortune with her close friend Jane Seymour. Okay, so not related,” Kat talked to herself as she read. “The two are rarely seen without the other and they deal with Seymour related activities equally. When asked about allowing Joan to control half of her fortune, Jane said ‘Controlling all that money by myself is for too much power. I trust Joan to handle it far better than I could all alone. We work together and that’s what works best for us.’” Kat couldn’t help but feel her respect for this woman grow.

Moving on, Kat did her best to find the other ladies she had never met. She remembered Jane mentioning the names Maria, Bessie, and Maggie, so she started searching. After no results were yielded from Anne Boleyn Maria and Catherine Parr Maria, Kat struck gold with Aragon News Maria. There wasn’t as much personal stuff on her as there was on Joan, but there was quite a bit of work related information. Maria de Salinas is the close friend of CEO Catherine of Aragon and works beside her as the CFO of Aragon News. It is unclear when the two of them met, but when Catherine inherited her business, Maria was immediately appointed the CFO beside her.

The process continued with Bessie and Maggie. Margaret “Maggie” Lee is the main supplier of alcohol to Boleyn owned bars. While she does not own any alcohol companies, Margaret is known for providing some of the best mixes from different suppliers. Boleyn talks about her in many interviews as, “the best of both worlds. She makes a killer cocktail and she’s the best friend I’ve got…”

The article for Bessie was particularly long, so Kat skimmed it. Elizabeth “Bessie” Blount is the spokesperson for Cleves Fashion. She organizes the company’s events and speaks at press conferences in the place of legendary designer, Anna of Cleves. The two have been close friends for years, Elizabeth even collaborating with the designer on some occasions. There was a period of time where Elizabeth left the company to work for Aragon News, but she quickly quit under mysterious circumstances.

As much information as the articles had provided, Kat couldn’t help but have more questions than she started with. There was so much behind these nine incredible women, and she was hiding herself in their group, pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

Katherine Brandon is the owner of Darkrider Records and is known for writing many Number 1 hits in recent years. She appeared out of nowhere, taking the world by storm with her work and collaborations with rising artists. But perhaps the most interesting thing about Brandon is the lack of pictures of her. In fact, there is not a single confirmed photograph of Katherine Brandon, leading to some wild conspiracies surrounding her. Many claim that they’ve dealt with people under the alias Katherine Brandon in the Black Market, garnering Brandon an infamous reputation in the business world. Another one of the most famous conspiracies surrounding Katherine Brandon is that she is not a singular person, but rather a group of influential people pretending to be the figurehead of the company.

That was certainly quite the character Kat would have to play. Her only grace of good luck was the lack of information on Katherine Brandon. “Why am I doing this,” Kat mumbled under her breath.

The answer came clear as day, even though Kat didn’t want to accept it. Accepting her answer would mean continuing this dangerous lie. But her resolve was breaking down quickly, and Kat couldn’t help but think of her reasons. Backing out would mean her life would go back to the way it was. Playing music to passersby and barely making enough money to afford her dingy apartment. She didn’t even have much of an education, something she desperately wanted. These women had offered money in their note, but that wasn’t what really interested Kat. Of all things, it was because Kat was lonely. She had no one and nothing and slowly but surely it was killing her. This was probably her only chance at doing something worthwhile in her life. She could disappear off the map and never matter at all, or she could help take down a murderous, corrupt politician.

When phrasing it like that, Kat knew she never stood a chance of backing out.

Unfortunately, joining a secret plot to overthrow a wealthy politician did not really have any benefits. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get set up on the street was not something Kat particularly liked doing, but it was necessary if she wanted to make enough money from free music. At first she couldn’t make much money, but quickly Kat learned the trick was the length of time she spent playing, not the quality of the music.

Most of the time people dropped money out of pity, not because they enjoyed the music she played. Kat hated living off of pity money, but no one ever wanted to hire her for a job, leaving her with no choice. The day always started out slow with only a few dollars here and there, but business picked up later on in the day. Kat liked to refer to her music as if it was a real job, using terms like business and customers to make herself feel better about the whole situation.

As the pale morning started to fade and the sun began shining through the clouds, Kat huddled in on herself, obsessively checking her watch that was propped against her guitar case. 7:50. Kat anxiously chewed her lip and strummed the guitar, trying to keep her mind fixed on the music. In the next few minutes, Jane would walk by and for once Kat did not want to be noticed.

“Kat? What’re you doing here?” asked a voice, causing the girl to jump in her seat. Dread and nervousness settled in her stomach, but Kat put on her best facade. The minimal information on Katherine Brandon allowed her to build her character as she wished (Kat was glad she had taken those theatre classes when living with her father), so she tried her act on Jane.

Appearing calculated and confident, Kat glanced down at her instrument and then back at Jane. “Oh this?” Kat commented offhandedly, “I play out in public in order to attract anyone interested in music. You’d be surprised how many talents come by and start singing with the music. How do you think I recruit so many new stars to my label?”

Jane hid her surprise at Kat’s sudden change in demeanor well. The girl was acting completely different than the worried teen the night before, which immediately sent up red flags in Jane’s mind. “How long do you stay out here?”

“Eh, only a couple hours in the morning, I usually go to the company to put in some actual work. Can’t be slacking off.”

Taking note of the vagueness in the word “work”, Jane bobbed her head up and down. Kat was acting exactly how the queens had predicted Katherine Brandon would, something that shouldn’t have been strange. But Kat made a lasting first impression, and to have her do an entire 180 in a single night meant something was up. “I can’t stay for long, Kat, but I’ll be seeing you later tonight.”

Returning to her music, Kat gave a small wave, “Yes Jane, I’ll be there.” With that, Jane walked off and Kat sighed heavily, releasing the tension in her body. While her Katherine Brandon character wasn’t perfected, that portrayal was certainly more believable than the nervous girl Kat had been the night before. Being Katherine Brandon was far better than Kat being herself, and if that’s what it took for Kat to take her first steps into this new world, she would take it in a single leap.

The night came again quickly, Kat’s nerves skyrocketing as the first sign of darkness started creeping into the sky. This time, Kat was more prepared, so she pulled out her cleanest pair of pants and the nicest dress shirt she owned, regardless of the warmth. If she was to impress these women, she needed to dress elegantly while also appearing nonchalant.

Arriving at the closed theatre, Kat moved to open the door like the first night. Before she could grab the handle, someone’s hand wrapped around her mouth and another around her waist, wrestling her away from the door and into the alley beside the theatre. Screeching into the hand, Kat started thrashing in panic, pushing at her captor.

The person made a grunting noise and Kat squirmed, but they kept a tight grip on her waist. Suddenly, Kat was thrown back into the memories of hands on her waist, holding her and touching her. A sob came out of Kat’s mouth as she started to shake, only for her assailant to let her go.

“Kat?” came the soft voice of Anne Boleyn. The bar owner had quieted herself so she couldn’t be heard by anyone other than Kat. “I’m sorry, did I scare you too much?”

Spinning around and lifting her head, Kat realized the person who had attacked her was only Anne, her face heating up with shame as she saw how badly she’d spooked Kat. “Why would you do that?” Kat whispered hoarsely, trying to regain her composure.

Putting her hands in her coat pocket, Anne shrugged. “I was trying to test you, see how well you reacted to being attacked.”

“Yeah, well I’ve never been attacked like that before, so clearly I didn’t do well.” Kat sighed and clenched her fists so Anne could not see the trembling. “Just don’t do it again.”

Anne held her hands up defensively. “Sorry, sorry. You head inside, I’ll be in in a minute.” Kat nodded and moved around Anne and out of the alley. She shot one last glance at Anne before moving inside the theatre to join the other women.

When Anne was sure Kat was gone, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a wallet. Opening it up, Anne began muttering to herself. “Alright Brandon, let’s see what secrets you’re hiding in here.”

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #The Queens of London #part three #i'm not going to tag all the queens #because that's just going to get redundant #yes all the titles are based off of song lyrics #i'm trying to be aesthetic #my inbox is always open #ignore all the historical plot holes #especially with Katherine Brandon and Maria

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stahlop · 5 years ago

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Once Upon a Time 2x19 “Lacey” Review

Reviews 1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04 1x05 1x06 1x07 1x08 1x09 1x10 1x11 1x12 1x13 1x14 1x15 1x16 1x17 1x18 1x19 1x20 1x21 1x22 2x01 2x02 2x03 2x04 2x05 2x06 2x07 2x08 2x09 2x10 2x11 2x12 2x13 2x14 2x15 2x16 2x17 2x18

Ok, so, I’m now remembering why I felt season two wasn’t so great originally. Greg and Tamara. I love both the actors (I mean, Ethan Embry as Greg was brilliant in Empire Records and Sonequa Martin-Green as Tamara I loved on The Walking Dead (RIP Sasha). But now that Cora is gone I feel like the rest of this season is almost being tacked on unless something big is about to happen. Both Regina and Gold are struggling between being good and evil, neither of whom are trying to be good for themselves but for other people. We also got another fairy tale character in a flashback who I hope becomes more significant in the future.

Summary: Belle ‘regains’ her memories as a barfly named, Lacey, and Gold tries to win her heart. Regina discovers that Neal is Henry’s father and suspects that Emma is hiding something from her. In the EF, Robin Hood tries to steal a wand from Rumplestiltskin and gets tortured for his actions, but Belle frees him, despite what consequences it may bring.

Opening: Robin Hood shooting an arrow.

New Characters:

Robin Hood: I know we technically don’t find out his name until almost the end of the episode, but it’s pretty obvious from the moment we meet him who he is, so let’s not pretend we don’t know who he is. He breaks into Rumplestiltskin’s castle to steal a wand. First off, he’s cocky as hell if he thinks he can break into the Dark One’s castle without him finding out. True that it’s the middle of the night, but Robin Hood has got some balls. He’s also dumb as hell if he thinks an arrow to the chest will kill him. Did he not do any research about Rumplestiltskin and the fact that he’s immortal? Robin seems very surprised that the arrow from his magic bow that can hit any target didn’t kill Rumplestiltskin. I’m very surprised that Rumplestiltskin decides to torture Robin instead of kill him right on the spot. Gaston came to fight for Belle and Rumplestiltskin turned him into a rose which killed him right on the spot, yet Robin is just getting tortured (ok, it’s still bad, but killing him outright would have seemed the more obvious choice)? Belle goes in to rescue him. He’s strung up by his wrists, and for the amount of blood Rumplestiltskin had on him (and the apparently other aprons that needed washed), Robin has very little blood on him. I expected him to be disemboweled or cut to shreds at least. Robin is afraid that Belle will get punished for letting him out, but Belle won’t leave because she’s afraid of going back on her deal with him. Robin is waiting for a Marian who is sick. He heals her with the wand he stole, and she’s pregnant. They run off when Rumplestiltskin fires an arrow at them but ‘misses’. I’m assuming we’re going to see Robin and Marian again and that’s why Robin didn’t die in this episode.

Sheriff of Nottingham/Keith: In the EF he seems to be a drunk (as evidenced from him having a hard time getting off his horse and his flask). He’s delighted that Rumplestiltskin has a beef with Robin Hood, but he also knows that Rumplestiltskin likes to make deals, so he has one for him. Idiot. Don’t go making deals with him when you don’t have to. He tries to get Belle for the night, but Rumplestiltskin says she’s not for sale. He attempts an hour, then twenty minutes. You’re not doing much to help your cause here Nottingham. Rumplestiltskin pretends to think about it, but then steals Nottingham’s tongue and tells him he tells him what he wants to know and he’ll get his tongue back. Nottingham agrees. We learn that Robin Hood ruined Nottingham, stole his woman, and made him the laughing stock of Nottingham (and this is where we learn he’s the Sheriff of Nottingham, also, I’m thinking making him a laughing stock wasn’t very hard). He also tells us that the thief is in Sherwood Forest. And if you still aren’t sure who our thief is, he tells us his name is Robin Hood.

I don’t think we ever get Nottingham’s SB name, but the credits list him as Keith, so that will be easier than calling him Nottingham here as well. We first see Keith hitting on Lacey in the bar and he is an A number one creep. He tells her he’s had his eye on her for a while. Now that we know that he wanted to make a deal for her back in the EF, this is even more creepy. She blows him off pretty quickly though. But apparently she kept in touch with him or got his number because she leaves her date with Gold to go make out with him behind Granny’s. Ew. When Gold grabs him off of Lacey he snivels that he didn’t know she was here with Gold and runs off. Keith later goes to apologize again to Gold, because he didn’t realize they were still together. Gold informs him that they aren’t together, so Keith assumes everything is okay between them then, and tries to shake Gold’s hand. Of course, this is when Gold decides that he’s tired of doing the right thing and takes Keith’s tongue again so no one can hear him scream while he beats the crap out of him.

Character Observations:

Belle/Lacey: We are back to right after Belle is taken to Rumplestiltskin’s castle after agreeing to be his maid in Skin Deep. It might be one or two days after she went to work for him, and the chipped cup scene should have happened at some point here, because she was still in her gold dress, and Rumplestiltskin gave her the list of what she had to do in the castle. She is crying because he’s locked her in a dungeon. Rumplestiltskin complains about the noise and gives her a pillow. Belle thinks she can finally sleep because she’ll be more comfortable, but he really gave it to her to muffle her crying. Then Robin Hood breaks in and is captured and tortured by Rumplestiltskin. Belle is horrified at what Rumplestiltskin is doing, especially because all he tried to steal is a wand. Rumplestiltskin says the thief tried to steal from him. And you get skinned alive if you steal from the Dark One. Belle says no one knows that. Rumplestiltskin says they will now and leaves. Really, no one knows that bad things would happen if you steal from the Dark One? I’d think that was just common knowledge. So Rumplestiltskin leaves and Belle takes the opportunity to free Robin. He wants her to come with him, but she made a deal with Rumplestiltskin and won’t go back on it. She’s putting her kingdom before herself. She’s not afraid that Rumplestiltskin will kill her for freeing the prisoner? She’s known him for about two days at this point. Belle is reading a book when Rumplestiltskin goes to torture Robin Hood again and finds him missing. Belle admits to letting him go because she doesn’t think he deserves to die. Rumplestiltskin tells her she reads too many books (where’s the lie?). She talks about seeing the good in him and he only wanted to escape with his life, but Rumplestiltskin shows her the empty wand holder. Belle, always thinking the best, says he must have needed the wand for something. Rumplestiltskin says that people who steal magic never have good intentions. Belle still doesn’t like that answer so she counters with you never know what’s in a person’s heart until you get to know them. Rumplestiltskin is going to find Robin, kill him with his own bow, make Belle watch, and make her clean it up. Belle finally looks frightened. In the carriage to find Robin Hood, Rumplestiltskin is worried because he’s losing track of the thief, Belle suggests giving up and going home, but Rumplestiltskin can’t let him get away because of his reputation. Belle thinks letting people know he’s not such a beast is a good thing. She asks him why he didn’t kill her for letting the prisoner go. He claims it’s because good help is hard to find. She tries to convince him that he’s a good man underneath and not so dark and yada yada yada, all the things we always hear her say about him and he’s never going to change Belle! Honestly, I wonder if Emilie DeRavin just stopped looking at her scripts because she just says the same thing in every single episode. Ugh! There’s a difference between finding the man behind the beast and just being a fucking psychopath who likes power and killing people. But I digress. Eventually she agrees that he’s dark, because Rumplestiltskin won’t even give her an inch about being a better person. They come across the Sheriff of Nottingham who wants a night with Belle in exchange for information. Belle looks shocked but doesn’t seem worried that Rumplestiltskin will sell her for information. Walking in the forest, Belle tells Rumplestiltskin she won’t stand by and watch him kill a man. Rumplestiltskin reminds her that’s the whole point of him bringing her with him. They find Robin and he’s healing a woman who is sick with the wand. Belle is truly happy that he didn’t use it for power or evil, and that she was right about not knowing what’s in someone’s heart. Rumplestiltskin pushes Belle into the ground so she can’t get away? I’m not sure why he does this, because it doesn’t stop Belle from continuing to talk or from seeing that the woman is pregnant. Belle doesn’t think he’s the type of man to leave a child fatherless. Oh plot contrivance, just the one thing that will make Rumplestiltskin not kill Robin Hood. He fires a warning shot instead. Belle asks what happened and he claims to have missed, but she knows she got to him because any arrow fired from that bow always hits its target. Belle’s delivery of the line about the bow is the best. It’s the only time I’ve seen her be sarcastic. Be more sarcastic Belle. She hugs him for sparing Robin’s life. When they return to the castle, Rumplestiltskin shows Belle the library. He claims it’s just another room for her to clean, but she sees through his facade. She tells him he’s not who she thought he was, and she’s glad.

We don’t really know much about Belle’s Lacey persona. We know she is the complete opposite of Belle. She’s loud, a flirt, and boasts a wardrobe similar to cursed Ruby’s. She likes her alcohol and she’s an expert pool player. She also likes hair bands (as evidenced by her knowledge of Van Halen). She agrees to go out on a date with Gold, but apparently she only does it to be nice, and had hoped that he was a little more like the rumors about him (that he wasn’t a good guy). She doesn’t even feel bad that she caught him making out with Nottingham while they were on a date together. But she’s much more into him once she catches him beating the crap out of Nottingham. They go through the same dialogue they went through as Belle, where he’s not who he thought she was, but she’s glad. And he tells her he is darker.

Rumplestiltskin/Gold: So Rumplestiltskin is pretty much an ass through most of this episode. It’s nothing we haven’t seen before, but he’s just taken in Belle and he’s already annoyed with her crying and she’s already having to clean up blood soaked aprons. He leaves the castle in the middle of torturing Robin Hood for some reason, and when he gets back, Belle has freed the prisoner. Now, from what we’ve seen of Rumplestiltskin in the past, this is not usually his MO. Usually he just kills the person forthright. So why the show? Is it so Belle knows exactly who she is dealing with? Or does he really want to send a message through Robin? I honestly doubt that anyone would steal from Rumplestiltskin without a good reason. Belle makes it seem like no one knows what he would do if someone stole from him, but considering he’s the DARK ONE, I think they’d get the picture. So Rumplestiltskin decides to hunt down Robin Hood, kill him with his own bow, and make Belle watch since she’s the reason he escaped. Belle keeps trying to wear him down the whole trip, talking about how there’s good in him and he can change, but Rumplestiltskin has been evil for so long that he’s not buying what she’s selling. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t pull out her tongue just to shut her up and I don’t feel that he has any particular feelings for her at this point. He honestly just wants the company. At least he was smart enough not to make a deal with Nottingham for Belle. When they finally do catch up with Robin Hood, Belle convinces him not to kill him because his wife is pregnant, and he couldn’t leave a father childless. Oh look, it’s the one thing that will make Rumplestiltskin have feelings. He shoots the arrow and ‘misses’. Belle is surprised when he decides not to go after Robin Hood, but Rumplestiltskin decides he’s not worth the effort. Belle sarcastically reminds him about the bow but Rumplestiltskin pushes it off as the bow losing his magic and suddenly Belle is right there in his space and he’s a little lovestruck. Belle hugs him and he seems really confused. Probably also that he’s not used to human contact, it’s been awhile since Cora. And as Belle turns away he looks at her with this school boy longing, as if he can’t quite believe what just happened. Belle asks if he’s coming and he gives a shy little smile while picking up his quiver and it would be so cute if it wasn’t Rumplestiltskin and we didn’t already know he’s an asshole and he’s never going to change. Rumplestiltskin ends up showing Belle the library. She thinks it’s a sweet gesture, he tells her that it’s just another room to clean. She takes his hand, he’s shocked by the touching again, and she tells him that she was wrong about him. No, she really wasn’t. He still tortured a man just that morning!

Gold, on the other hand, is having feelings of guilt. He has a dream that it’s Henry’s birthday and he essentially kills him in front of his family because of the prophecy. He startles awake about that. Gold is watching Neal and Henry pretend sword fight at the park. Regina comes by and wonders why Gold’s son is playing with Henry. Gold gleefully informs her that Neal is Henry’s father. Regina thinks Gold planned this, but Gold chalks it up to fate. Regina plays on his fears by telling Gold that none of them will accept him as a doting grandfather. Gold thinks he can do it, but Regina reminds him that darkness always wins out for him. If his own son couldn’t bring out the good in him, who will? And that would be Belle, but Belle still doesn’t know who she is yet. He goes to visit her in the hospital. She’s surprised to see him because the last time they spoke in The Miller’s Daughter he was about to die. She’s glad he’s okay though. She’s finally come to terms that they may have been together in the past. Gold is happy that she’s accepted that. She tells him she remembers him healing her, and it sounds like he’s going to pass it off as meds and what not, but he does tell her it will make sense when her memories come back. Belle wants Gold to help her regain her memories. He agrees as long as she helps him bring out the best in him again. He goes to get her discharged. By the time he comes back, Belle is gone and there is just a matchbook for The Rabbit Hole left behind. He heads to the bar and finds Belle there, except she is no longer Belle, she now thinks her name is Lacey, and she’s essentially a barfly. Gold is very confused as to how Belle turned into Lacey. He goes to see Regina who he accuses of giving Belle false memories, but Regina reminds him that she crossed the town line, so she just jump started Belle’s cursed memories. Regina mocks Gold by saying he won’t kill her to get real Belle’s memories, because he’s on his best behavior for his son. They discuss true love’s kiss as a way to break Belle’s cursed memories, but Regina doesn’t think Lacey will go for Gold. Regina is incredibly calm through this whole exchange, while Gold is getting more and more enraged. So Gold does something that no one expected, he goes to David for help. He wants to know how under the curse David Nolan won Mary Margaret’s heart. David doesn’t want to help because of the whole Gold getting Mary Margaret to help kill Cora thing. But Gold reminds them it was basically a kill or be killed situation. Gold is fine with David not helping, but he let’s David know he’ll owe him a favor if he helps him win Belle/Lacey. David tells Gold that there was still a sliver of Snow and Charming inside their cursed personas, so Gold needs to remind Lacey of the man she fell in love with. Gold goes back to The Rabbit Hole with David as his wingman (the whole situation is hilarious) to try and woo Lacey. He immediately tries to go after Keith for flirting with Lacey, but David stops him. He goes to talk to Lacey but she starts talking about Van Halen and Gold has no idea what to do. He complains to David that they have nothing in common but David tells him he just needs to find a way in. He asks her out and she mentions that she’s heard rumors about him. People are scared of him, he tells her not to let that deter her. They make a date for Granny’s. On the date, Gold is extremely nervous. He orders burgers and iced tea for both of them (Belle’s favorites), but Lacey would rather have chicken parmesan and a bottle of wine. She thinks Gold is a classy guy despite everything she’s heard about him (being ruthless and sometimes people get hurt). Gold says he’s a simple shop owner and procurer of hard to find objects. He says people believe the worst in him but he wants her to believe the best in him. Lacey says she doesn’t see the man that the rumors depict. Gold takes that as a compliment. Lacey says the line about not knowing what’s truly in someone’s heart and Gold gets so flustered that he spills his iced tea on her. She goes to clean herself up and Gold’s practically patting himself on the back. The food arrives and Lacey still isn’t back. Gold catches her making out with Keith behind the diner. Lacey pretty much tells him that she only went out with him to be nice, but she’s not nice, Gold is nice (ha!). Gold tries to get things back on track by saying that’s what she always loved about him, and Lacey gets pissed off because she is not Belle. Gold finally realizes that he can’t get Belle back. Gold runs into Keith again, who apologizes, but Gold’s done. He has no one to be good for anymore (um, are we not even trying to redeem ourselves for Neal anymore?), so he starts beating the crap out of Keith. Lacey sees this and is enthralled. She likes the bad side of Gold, the one everyone talks about. She wants to date this Gold, and Gold is just happy to be with someone who looks like Belle, but lets his dark side out to play. Because that’s not creepy or anything.

Emma: She is shown the bean fields by her parents and doesn’t know if she wants to go back to the Enchanted Forest with everyone. Mary Margaret apparently has changed her mind and wants to go so she can put the whole Cora debacle behind her. Also, I love the whole exchange between Anton and Emma, that they’re actual friends. I’d forgotten that she didn’t even know he was in town because she was in New York. Emma realizes that David and Mary Margaret didn’t tell her about the beans because they want to go back. They tell her they want her and Henry to come too, but Emma insists that this realm is her home. David tells her it’s been nothing but cruel to her and she could get her happy ending in the EF. Emma’s not so sure. Emma’s at the docks looking at the storybook when Regina interrupts her. She’s upset that Emma didn’t tell her about Gold being Henry’s grandfather. Emma reminds her that she was too busy trying to keep Regina and Cora from killing her whole family. Regina continues to insult Neal and Emma until Emma tells her to stop worrying about everyone else and start focusing on being the person Henry wants her to be before he’s gone for good. Regina wants to know what Emma means by that. Emma tries to play it off as just a figure of speech and that there’s not a scheme out to get Regina, but she doesn’t believe her. Emma is not a good liar at all. Later on Neal brings a sleeping Henry home. She asks Neal if he ever considered going back to the EF. He’s not interested. Emma and Neal discuss who Storybrooke might not be safe from since August doesn’t remember anything as Pinocchio. Neal tells her she’ll figure it out because she doesn’t stop until she finds what she’s looking for.

Regina: She’s all about doling out the insults to Gold and feeling sorry for herself in this episode. She’s shocked and angered to find out Neal is Henry’s father. She insists that Gold had to know as he procured Henry for her. She doesn’t believe it’s a coincidence. Gold informs her that it’s just fate. Regina’s probably just thinking that now she has another rival for her affections for Henry. Regina tells Gold they’ll never accept him because he covets darkness over everything else. Gold tells Regina she doesn’t know him. She knows him well enough. She ends with the scathing insult that if he couldn’t change for his son, who will he change for. Hey pot, meet kettle. Regina goes to visit Belle. I have no idea why she does this, just to mess with Gold apparently. Because she knows Belle is the only person who can make Gold a better person? Whatever. She picks up a matchbook off the floor and tells Belle she must have dropped it. It causes Belle to get somewhat hypnotized and ‘regain’ her memories. Gold confronts Regina in her office about Belle’s memories. Regina tries to blame it on him since he gave her the curse in the first place, she just jogged the cursed memories out. Gold wants her to fix it, but she can’t because she crossed the town line. Regina mocks him about not killing her because Neal is in town. She continues to mock him about ways to win Lacey over. She is overly calm in this scene whereas Gold keeps getting angrier and angrier. She wishes him luck as he storms out. Regina confronts Emma about Neal being Henry’s father and Emma not telling her. Emma reminds her that she and Cora were trying to kill her family. So I see we’re back to selfish Regina and it’s all about her again. She’s upset about Neal still being in town. Emma says he wants to spend time with Henry. Regina says neither Emma nor Neal wanted to be with Henry the first 10 years of his life. Again, Regina seems to have no compunction about the fact that because of her curse, Emma had no choice but to give up Henry because of how she’d been raised. But sure, let’s just blame Emma and Neal for their circumstances. Emma makes a comment about Regina becoming the person Henry wants her to be before it’s too late. Regina realizes this might mean something, despite Emma blowing it off and trying to placate Regina. She vows to figure it out. Regina later notices the Charming’s bringing all the dwarves back from somewhere and uses magic to find the bean fields. She has a mix of anger and joy on her face when she finds them and realizes what they are.

Tamara/Greg: Greg has made a map of all the places he’s seen magic in SB (do they not realize the whole town is magic?). Tamara asks Greg if he’s had any luck with finding his dad. Greg says no, but he’s sure he’s in town somewhere. He asks Tamara about the package. She says it was too big so it’s just outside the town line. They’ll get it at night. That night Tamara pulls into town with a moving trailer hitched to a car. They finally reveal that the package is a person, and oh look, there’s Hook, foiled again. How many times has he been bested now? Maybe I should keep a running list.

Questions:

Why is Belle still in the hospital? Could her father not bring her home while she was recovering? Or couldn’t someone just bring her to her apartment behind the library that she’s been living in?

Why is Belle always in full makeup? Did she bring her makeup kit over with her to be Rumplestiltskin’s maid?

How does Robin Hood not know the Dark One is immortal?

What is up with Emma and Mary Margaret’s matching hats? That hat seems way out of character for Emma.

They were able to grow a whole vineyard of beans from one clipping? Do we just have amazing soil in this realm considering it’s been maybe a week since they got back from New York and the beans are almost ready?

Why are Tamara and Greg referring to Hook as the package when they are alone? Do they think someone is listening in on them?

Where did Belle get a book from when she didn’t know about the library yet? Did she bring her own books with her? I’m pretty sure she didn’t get to bring anything with her.

How did Belle not notice the wand was missing? She was sitting right next to it!

Where did Lacey get her ‘Lacey’ clothes? They wouldn’t have been in Belle’s wardrobe. Does Lacey have an apartment somewhere that was waiting for her if Regina had ever freed her during the curse?

What is up with Rumplestiltskin’s accent in this episode? It is all over the place.

Why is Regina still mayor? Wasn’t she asked to leave during Lady of the Lake? Did she just resume office again when she was being evil with her mother?

Where did the Lacey persona come from? Lacey didn’t exist during the curse. Belle didn’t have any memories of anything during the curse except being in the mental ward. So was her cursed persona just waiting to be activated like David’s in The Shepherd just in case Regina decided to let her go free?

Why does Gold say for the first time ever he’ll owe David a favor? Does he mean for the first time ever he’ll specifically owe David a favor? Because in Welcome to Storybrooke he did Mary Margaret a favor for saving his life, so it’s not the first time he owes anyone a favor. The wording of it just sounds off.

Since when does Granny’s table have tablecloths? Is this the night dining decor for dates? Do a lot of people come out for dates to Granny’s? Are there no other restaurants in town?

When did Lacey contact Keith? Did she randomly run into him at Granny’s when she was in the restroom, or was she running off and just ran into him outside?

Who does Lacey think Belle is? Does she realize that she was Belle and she just thinks her real memories came back? Or does she think Belle is someone else entirely? Shouldn’t she be a little more freaked out that everyone thinks she’s someone named Belle and she can’t remember that part of her life?

Neal mentions that Pinocchio is cooler than August because he steals less of his money. Did he tell Emma that August stole the $20,000 that was meant for her?

How was Tamara planning on getting the moving trailer inside the town if August was supposed to have left town with her car in Selfless, Brave, and True? And is Greg’s car fixed now? It was in pretty bad shape after his accident.

Did Hook never have to pee or eat or drink water in the back of that moving trailer. That’s been there for at least two days since Tamara arrived in town.

Observations:

There are 11 candles on Henry’s birthday cake in Gold’s dream, even though Henry is already 11 and he’d be 12 on his next birthday.

Poor Belle, she’s always in a dungeon of some kind. In this episode that is where Rumplestiltskin has her, she was in Regina’s dungeon for years, and then she was in the basement during the entire curse.

The wand that Robin steals is the same wand in Gold’s dream that Henry picks out. It is also the same wand that he stole from Cinderella’s fairy godmother in The Price of Gold.

The bow that Robin Hood has, that always hits its target, is the same bow that Rumplestiltskin gives Snow in Heart of Darkness to go kill the Evil Queen.

Regina triggers Lacey’s memories the same way she triggered David’s in The Shepherd.

Lacey is playing pool with Mr. Clarke, the only other townsperson who has reverted back to their cursed persona.

I counted at least 3 times that the word beast was used to describe Rumplestiltskin: Rumple uses it when he gives Belle the pillow, Belle uses it when talking to Robin Hood, and she uses it again when Rumple questions what people would think of him if he let Robin Hood go.

Don Juan was nothing before he made a deal with Rumplestiltskin.

Emma is looking at a picture of her parents when they were pregnant with her in her nursery in the storybook.

Timeline Issues:

The wand that Robin Hood steals from Rumplestiltskin is the same wand that he killed Cinderella’s fairy godmother for in The Price of Gold, except that doesn’t happen until around the same time as Snow and Charming’s courtship. Snow and Charming are already married when they attend Cinderella’s wedding and we know she and Snow are also pregnant around the same time because in Storybrooke, Ashley was ready to pop out her baby. But we also know that after Belle left Rumplestiltskin’s castle, she was held captive for at least 2 ½ years because of the markings on the wall that we saw in Queen of Hearts. So I have to assume that he procured the wand, Robin Hood stole it, Robin gave it back to the fairies, and then Rumplestiltskin killed the fairy godmother to get it back. Otherwise, it makes no sense why he had the wand at this point in time before he killed the fairy godmother.

So, Gold goes to get Belle discharged from the hospital. Regina comes in and ‘triggers’ Belle’s memories. By the time Gold comes back, Belle is gone. He picks up the matchbook and decides to go see if she’s there. So, let’s say this whole thing takes an hour from Gold going to get Belle discharged (because seriously, how long could it really take?) to Gold going to The Rabbit Hole to look for her. In that time, she’s managed to a) find clothes, b) find money to buy (several) drinks, c) introduce herself and get friendly with the bartender enough so that he recognizes her from Gold’s description, and d) has already started hustling Mr. Clarke at pool.

All in all, not a huge fan of this episode. Though I am glad to see Hook back. But having to take orders from Greg and Tamara seems beneath even him. So Gold is dark again because Belle is the only one who can make him good, even though Neal is there and probably willing to have a relationship if he’s seen his father change. What was the point of the curse if Gold was going to give up on Neal so easily?! And Regina has reverted to her backhanded comments. She was definitely more season one Regina than we’ve seen all season. Lacey doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. She’s just an excuse for Gold to be who he’s always been without the guilt. Hopefully, a cure will be found soon, although, will Gold want it is the question. And will somebody please tell me what Greg and Tamara are up too? So far all they’re doing is annoying me and I want them off my screen.

Please leave comments and reblog! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future reviews.

@searchingwardrobes @thisonesatellite @justbecauseyoubelievesomething @laschatzi @profdanglaisstuff @mariakov81 @lfh1226-linda

#once upon a time #once upon a time review #once upon a time rewatch #once upon a time 2x19 #once upon a time lacey

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 4 years ago

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24th November >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Saints Andrew Dũng-Lạc and his Companions, Martyrs

Tuesday, Thirty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time.

Tuesday, Thirty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the feria (Tuesday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Tuesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Apocalypse 14:14-19

The harvest and the vintage of the earth are ripe

In my vision I, John, saw a white cloud and, sitting on it, one like a son of man with a gold crown on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand. Then another angel came out of the sanctuary, and shouted aloud to the one sitting on the cloud, ‘Put your sickle in and reap: harvest time has come and the harvest of the earth is ripe.’ Then the one sitting on the cloud set his sickle to work on the earth, and the earth’s harvest was reaped. Another angel, who also carried a sharp sickle, came out of the temple in heaven, and the angel in charge of the fire left the altar and shouted aloud to the one with the sharp sickle, ‘Put your sickle in and cut all the bunches off the vine of the earth; all its grapes are ripe.’ So the angel set his sickle to work on the earth and harvested the whole vintage of the earth and put it into a huge winepress, the winepress of God’s anger.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 95(96):10-13

R/ The Lord comes to rule the earth.

Proclaim to the nations: ‘God is king.’ The world he made firm in its place; he will judge the peoples in fairness.

R/ The Lord comes to rule the earth.

Let the heavens rejoice and earth be glad, let the sea and all within it thunder praise, let the land and all it bears rejoice, all the trees of the wood shout for joy at the presence of the Lord for he comes, he comes to rule the earth.

R/ The Lord comes to rule the earth.

With justice he will rule the world, he will judge the peoples with his truth.

R/ The Lord comes to rule the earth.

Gospel Acclamation

Luke 21:28

Alleluia, alleluia! Stand erect, hold your heads high, because your liberation is near at hand. Alleluia!

Or:

Revelation 2:10

Alleluia, alleluia! Even if you have to die, says the Lord, keep faithful, and I will give you the crown of life. Alleluia!

Gospel

Luke 21:5-11

The destruction of the Temple foretold

When some were talking about the Temple, remarking how it was adorned with fine stonework and votive offerings, Jesus said, ‘All these things you are staring at now – the time will come when not a single stone will be left on another: everything will be destroyed.’ And they put to him this question: ‘Master,’ they said ‘when will this happen, then, and what sign will there be that this is about to take place?’ ‘Take care not to be deceived,’ he said ‘because many will come using my name and saying, “I am he” and, “The time is near at hand.” Refuse to join them. And when you hear of wars and revolutions, do not be frightened, for this is something that must happen but the end is not so soon.’ Then he said to them, ‘Nation will fight against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes and plagues and famines here and there; there will be fearful sights and great signs from heaven.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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Saints Andrew Dũng-Lạc and his Companions, Martyrs

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Tuesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

EITHER:

First Reading

2 Chronicles 24:18-22

'You have deserted the Lord: now he deserts you'

The Judaeans abandoned the Temple of the Lord, the God of their ancestors, for the worship of sacred poles and idols. Because of their guilt, God’s anger fell on Judah and Jerusalem. He sent them prophets to bring them back to the Lord, but when these gave their message, they would not listen. The spirit of God took possession of Zechariah son of Jehoiada the priest. He stood up before the people and said, ‘God says this, “Why do you transgress the commandments of the Lord to no good purpose? You have deserted the Lord, now he deserts you.”’ They then plotted against him and by order of the king stoned him in the court of the Temple of the Lord. King Joash, forgetful of the kindness that Jehoiada, the father of Zechariah, had shown him, killed Jehoiada’s son who cried out as he died, ‘The Lord sees and he will avenge!’

OR: --------

First reading 2 Maccabees 6:18,21,24-31 I am glad to suffer because of the awe which he inspires in me

Eleazar, one of the foremost teachers of the Law, a man already advanced in years and of most noble appearance, was being forced to open his mouth wide to swallow pig’s flesh. Those in charge of the impious banquet, because of their long-standing friendship with him, took him aside and privately urged him to have meat brought of a kind he could properly use, prepared by himself, and only pretend to eat the portions of sacrificial meat as prescribed by the king. ‘Such pretence’ he said ‘does not square with our time of life; many young people would suppose that Eleazar at the age of ninety had conformed to the foreigners’ way of life, and because I had played this part for the sake of a paltry brief spell of life might themselves be led astray on my account; I should only bring defilement and disgrace on my old age. Even though for the moment I avoid execution by man, I can never, living or dead, elude the grasp of the Almighty. Therefore if I am man enough to quit this life here and now I shall prove myself worthy of my old age, and I shall have left the young a noble example of how to make a good death, eagerly and generously, for the venerable and holy laws.’ With these words he went straight to the block. His escorts, so recently well disposed towards him, turned against him after this declaration, which they regarded as sheer madness. Just before he died under the blows, he groaned aloud and said, ‘The Lord whose knowledge is holy sees clearly that, though I might have escaped death, whatever agonies of body I now endure under this bludgeoning, in my soul I am glad to suffer, because of the awe which he inspires in me.’ This was how he died, leaving his death as an example of nobility and a record of virtue not only for the young but for the great majority of the nation.

OR: --------

First reading 2 Maccabees 7:1-2,9-14 'The King of the world will raise us up to live for ever'

There were seven brothers who were arrested with their mother. The king tried to force them to taste pig’s flesh, which the Law forbids, by torturing them with whips and scourges. One of them, acting as spokesman for the others, said, ‘What are you trying to find out from us? We are prepared to die rather than break the laws of our ancestors.’ With his last breath the second brother exclaimed, ‘Inhuman fiend, you may discharge us from this present life, but the King of the world will raise us up, since it is for his laws that we die, to live again for ever.’ After him, they amused themselves with the third, who on being asked for his tongue promptly thrust it out and boldly held out his hands, with these honourable words, ‘It was heaven that gave me these limbs; for the sake of his laws I disdain them; from him I hope to receive them again.’ The king and his attendants were astounded at the young man’s courage and his utter indifference to suffering. When this one was dead they subjected the fourth to the same savage torture. When he neared his end he cried, ‘Ours is the better choice, to meet death at men’s hands, yet relying on God’s promise that we shall be raised up by him; whereas for you there can be no resurrection, no new life.’

OR: --------

First reading 2 Maccabees 7:1,20-23,27-29 Make death welcome, so that in the day of mercy I may receive you back

There were seven brothers who were arrested with their mother. The king tried to force them to taste pig’s flesh, which the Law forbids, by torturing them with whips and scourges. But the mother was especially admirable and worthy of honourable remembrance, for she watched the death of seven sons in the course of a single day, and endured it resolutely because of her hopes in the Lord. Indeed she encouraged each of them in the language of their ancestors; filled with noble conviction, she reinforced her womanly argument with manly courage, saying to them, ‘I do not know how you appeared in my womb; it was not I who endowed you with breath and life, I had not the shaping of your every part. It is the creator of the world, ordaining the process of man’s birth and presiding over the origin of all things, who in his mercy will most surely give you back both breath and life, seeing that you now despise your own existence for the sake of his laws.’ She said to her youngest son, ‘My son, have pity on me; I carried you nine months in my womb and suckled you three years, fed you and reared you to the age you are now (and cherished you). I implore you, my child, observe heaven and earth, consider all that is in them, and acknowledge that God made them out of what did not exist, and that mankind comes into being in the same way. Do not fear this executioner, but prove yourself worthy of your brothers, and make death welcome, so that in the day of mercy I may receive you back in your brothers’ company.’

OR: --------

First reading Wisdom 3:1-9 The souls of the virtuous are in the hands of God

The souls of the virtuous are in the hands of God, no torment shall ever touch them. In the eyes of the unwise, they did appear to die, their going looked like a disaster, their leaving us, like annihilation; but they are in peace. If they experienced punishment as men see it, their hope was rich with immortality; slight was their affliction, great will their blessings be. God has put them to the test and proved them worthy to be with him; he has tested them like gold in a furnace, and accepted them as a holocaust. When the time comes for his visitation they will shine out; as sparks run through the stubble, so will they. They shall judge nations, rule over peoples, and the Lord will be their king for ever. They who trust in him will understand the truth, those who are faithful will live with him in love; for grace and mercy await those he has chosen.

OR: --------

First reading Ecclesiasticus 51:1-8 Thanks to God the saviour

I will give thanks to you, Lord and King, and praise you, God my saviour, I give thanks to your name; for you have been protector and support to me, and redeemed my body from destruction, from the snare of the lying tongue, from lips that fabricate falsehood; and in the presence of those around me you have been my support, you have redeemed me, true to the greatness of your mercy and of your name, from the fangs of those who would devour me, from the hands of those seeking my life, from the many ordeals which I have endured, from the stifling heat which hemmed me in, from the heart of a fire which I had not kindled, from deep in the belly of Sheol, from the unclean tongue and the lying word – the perjured tongue slandering me to the king. My soul has been close to death, my life had gone down to the brink of Sheol. They were surrounding me on every side, there was no-one to support me; I looked for someone to help – in vain. Then I remembered your mercy, Lord, and your deeds from earliest times, how you deliver those who wait for you patiently, and save them from the clutches of their enemies.

-------- ________

EITHER: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 30(31):3-4,6,8,16-17

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Be a rock of refuge for me, a mighty stronghold to save me, for you are my rock, my stronghold. For your name’s sake, lead me and guide me.

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

Into your hands I commend my spirit. It is you who will redeem me, Lord. As for me, I trust in the Lord: let me be glad and rejoice in your love.

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

My life is in your hands, deliver me from the hands of those who hate me. Let your face shine on your servant. Save me in your love.

Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 33(34):2-9