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snifflesthemouse · 3 years ago

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Why isn’t the second-born of the second-born listed on the Royal website’s Line of Succession Page? Still yet?

Hello and Good Day! I hope this post finds you all well, happy, and healthy. As for this author, please rest assured my silence has nothing to do with the content of this space and everything to do with personal preferences. In other words, I have been absent simply because I wanted to take a break from it all. During this break, there have been plenty of things worthy of discussion.

However, many of those discussions are discussions we’ve already had before, long before the press decided to make it officially newsworthy. It would seem the news and media are slow to catch onto what we’ve ALL known for quite some time. For example, we all knew the couple were planning money moves and business dealings long before the official “We quit!” announcements. We already knew, long before the news started discussing it, that the couple were trying to monetize their links to the Royal Family. And we all already knew that bullying claims and horror stories existed long before any official third-party investigations. This post will focus on the big question(s) of late: Why hasn’t the second-born of the second-born been added to the official Royal Family Line of Succession list?

The Royal Line of Succession (found here: https://www.royal.uk/succession) still suggests the second-born of the second-born is not in the official line. This could all very well be a big misunderstanding. Occam would suggest the simplest solution is the correct solution, right? So, the simplest solution would be that IT (or the responsible party for managing changes to the Royal UK website) hasn’t got around to making the changes to the Line of Succession.

According to the Mirror, (article link: https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/royal-familys-website-yet-add-24565116) updates or changes to the line of succession page can vary. It took 12 days for HRH The Prince Louis of Cambridge to be added. It took 15 days for Master Archie Mountbatten-Windsor to be added. Master August Philip Hawke Brooksbank was added to the official line of succession page 61 days after his arrival. The article didn’t mention how long it took after Master Lucas Tindall was born for his name to be added to the page.

The important fact, though, IS that both August and Lucas are on the list. Neither child has been christened in the Church of England. August’s christening had to be rescheduled. Lucas’s christening has yet to be scheduled or announced. It is worth noting, however, that Zara Tindall is not a working royal. Her first two children, Mia and Lena, were both christened at St. Nicholas’s Church in Gloucestershire several months after they were born. Both christenings were privately held with Her Majesty the Queen present. The godparents weren’t made public, either; yet it is known Prince Harry was named as one of the godparents for Lena.

It has been suggested Zara and Mike will follow suit with Lucas and hold a private christening at St. Nicholas’s Church in the near future. Some even suggest it will be around Christmastime when they do so, and that the Queen will be present for the christening. The Queen was suspected to attend the christening for August at Windsor before the worldwide bug caused the event to be rescheduled. The point of all this is that being christened has NOTHING to do with being added to the line of succession. We can see that is true since Lucas and August are yet to be christened.

According to Tatler, (article found here: https://www.tatler.com/article/surrogacy-and-peerages-legal-issues-family-law-marchioness-of-bath) titles and succession rights rely on the terms of the original grant. When it comes to the line of succession for the Royal Family, the royal.uk website explains clearly what requirements must be met for someone to hold a spot in line. These requirements have changed very little over the centuries. For someone to be in the line of succession, they must be legitimate-born Protestant descendants of the Princess Sofia, Electress of Hanover. Before the law changed, male descendants took precedent over females. Children born AFTER 28 October 2011 no longer adhere to the male-preference.

When the laws changed, with them also changed who needed consent from the Sovereign to marry. The updated laws stated only the first six in line to the throne needed Sovereign consent to marry. The law also changed the rules against descendants marrying Roman Catholics. Now, a descendant of Princess Sofia can keep their spot in the line of succession if they marry a Roman Catholic. When one thinks about it, it would seem like Her Majesty could predict the future.

The changes to the law essentially made sure that any female children of Prince William’s wouldn’t be knocked out of place. It also ensured Prince Harry would have to get permission to marry. However, nothing much else changed regarding the rules. So, any child added to the line of succession still needed to be a descendant of the Princess Sofia, Electress of Hanover. They had to be Protestant (only the Monarch need to be in communion with the Church of England), and they had to be legitimate. What exactly dictates legitimate, though?

Legitimacy requires the children be born to married Protestant parents, one of which who also descend from Princess Sofia. Therefore, children born out of wedlock are ineligible. Children born of surrogacy, regardless of the type of surrogacy used, are treated like adopted children. Adopted children are ineligible for the line of succession. Which brings us to the next point.

Master Archie Mountbatten-Windsor is in the line of succession. This tells us that he is a legitimate heir to the line of succession. So, he was born to married Protestant parents, one of which is a direct descendant of the Princess Sofia. Now, I’ve seen the theories regarding Archie. That’s a hot button topic for many. But the fact remains he is in the line of succession. There are several unanswered questions surrounding his birth. As I’ve mentioned before, the easel announcement had to have been created specifically for his birth since the document format was entirely different. No lines were even placed because there were never going to be any signatures.

If Archie were born with the use of a surrogate, it would mean one (or more) of the following:

1. The Royal Family either knew from the get-go and facilitated a cover-up

2. The Royal Family didn’t (or doesn’t still) know anything is amiss

3. The Royal Family learned about the surrogacy AFTER the fact, and the decision to leave Archie in the line of succession was a strong-armed, forced decision put upon the Royal Family

a. If this is the case, it would mean nobody saw #6 or his wife in private, behind the scenes to notice something was amiss

b. The Royal Family DID see the duo and caught on, deciding to distance themselves from the whole ordeal

c. It would also suggest Megxit was more about them saving face and ridding themselves of the deceitful duo now residing in Montecito.

4. The Deceitful Duo lied and deceived everyone, kept a distance from everyone, and used their “rift” with the other Royals as an excuse to keep them at bay.

Think about it. Buckingham Palace botched the announcements. First, they announced the couple were in labor in the afternoon, even though Archie was born early on that morning. The birth announcement/easel wasn’t signed, and it was entirely changed to fit the situation. Then, there was that questionable tweet from Kensington. Coupled with the alleged statement from the alleged Doctor’s husband that his wife did not deliver the child.

Now, either Archie’s mother saw an opportunity to fuel rumors, speculation, a family rift, etc. and decided to purposely make everything mysterious to drum up drama and attention. Or… the truth is there is a coverup at play. We may never know. But it does speak volumes to how things are playing out now with their second child.

Their second child was born in California on 4 June. There are already stories making the rounds regarding the second-born. First, it was #6 demanded a private christening at Windsor with the Queen in attendance. Then, it was #6 was supposed to acquire the baptismal gown and bring it back to California, so the child could be baptized stateside. Allegedly, the Queen said, “NO, NO, and NO!” to all of the demands (i.e. private Windsor ceremony, borrowing the gown, etc.).

New Idea reported the gossip (article found here: https://www.newidea.com.au/lilibet-christening). Saying all those “No’s!” enraged the couple, so they are banning Royals from the christening and having their own private ceremony stateside. Potentially, even having a Roman Catholic christening. That would end up being the perfect coverup…

If they decided on a Roman Catholic christening, they know it would force the second-born out of her spot in line. It would also become the scapegoat excuse. They could say the cruel Royals forced their hand, in turn forcing them to forfeit their second child’s spot in line. The same couple obsessed with the titles, who also denounce needing titles to serve since service is universal, would have the perfect excuse. Nobody would question it further (in their own minds, anyway).

But all that is speculation. Let’s look at facts. Facts state that a child must be legitimately born to a descendant of the Princess Sofia and baptized as Protestant. That is all. The disqualifiers are being born out of wedlock, being adopted, or being born of a surrogacy (again, regardless of the type of surrogacy). Children born of surrogacy are treated as adopted children. A child could be 100% conceived from both married parents’ gametes (meaning the child was conceived using both parents’ egg and sperm) but carried by a gestational surrogate… AND STILL be disqualified from succession rights. The law sees it that the surrogate carrying the genetic child of the married Protestant parents breaks the chain of descent. These are the facts of law.

So, whether the omission of the latest Montecito Mansion addition is a snub, the result of someone in a tech department somewhere failing to get around to changing the official webpage, or legitimate, we may never know for certain. Who knows? Maybe time will prove us all wrong, and the omission will be amended on the website. What we do know for certain, however, is being christened isn’t a prerequisite. This is true because, as of today right now, 2 of the 22 names on the line of succession are not christened. Prince Louis wasn’t christened within 12 days of his name being added, either. Nor was Archie christened within those 15 days of being added.

And remember… a DNA test would only prove whether a child is genetically its parents. A DNA test doesn’t prove whether the child is born naturally, via c-section, surrogate, or anything else. DNA only declares biological relations. It declares the “who” but not the “how”.

I’ve listed several websites that I have pulled information from below for anyone interested.

It’s also worth a look to see how much the Montecito Muppets try so hard to copy Zara and Mike Tindall. You see, Zara and Mike Tindall didn’t do a formal photo call for the birth of any of their children. No pictures on the steps of the hospitals. Mia (the oldest of Zara and Mike’s children) was introduced to the world via a photo spread with Hello Magazine. The couple chose to do the photo shoot, as well as being on the cover of the magazine, because they felt people wanted it. They did the shoot as World-Class athletes, not as Royals. Lena was introduced in an advert for Land Rover’s all-terrain pram. The announcements for Lucas (both the pregnancy announcement and the birthing announcement) were made by Mike on a Rugby podcast.

Zara and Mike Tindall, being non-working Royals, must make their own money. They have no titles. Their children have no titles. They have no Sovereign Grant money. They have no Royal Protection Officers protecting them 24/7 either. Their children were christened in private, and the godparents weren’t made public. Well, except Prince Harry was named as Lena’s godparent. He was married at the time of Lena’s christening. His wife was pregnant at the time, too. One wonders if the wife was also named as a godparent. One also wonders if the wife got the idea of half-in-half-out from seeing how successful The Princess Royale’s children have been in life sans titles.

It’s like they saw these hard-working people who happened to be related to the Monarch, who just so happened to be of Royal blood and descent. Who didn’t have to answer to the public as much as senior “working Royals” because they didn’t take tax dollars. But the truth is, they can never have what they envy so much about The Princess Royal’s children. They lack the talent, skill, grace, and understanding that The Princess Royal instilled in her children. That’s why they constantly depend on “bombshells” for attention and revenues. But that itself is a discussion all its own…

ARTICLES FOR YOUR INTEREST AND CURIOSITY:

https://www.express.co.uk/news/royal/1415464/zara-tindall-princess-eugenie-royal-baby-news-christening-tradition-evg

https://www.gloucestershirelive.co.uk/news/celebs-tv/inside-two-cotswold-churches-fit-5544053

https://www.mirror.co.uk/3am/celebrity-news/royal-baby-christening-traditions-gowns-24301504

https://celebrity.land/en/royal-fans-should-prepare-to-wait-for-glimpse-of-princess-annes-first-grandson-lucas-tindall/

https://www.express.co.uk/news/royal/1462070/zara-tindall-news-mike-tindall-lucas-mia-lena-royal-baby-talk-interview-royal-family-spt

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-9777651/Princess-Eugenie-forced-cancel-Windsor-christening-son-August-following-Covid-scare.html

https://www.history.com/topics/british-history/royal-succession

https://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/2013/20/enacted

https://www.royal.uk/succession

https://www.tatler.com/article/surrogacy-and-peerages-legal-issues-family-law-marchioness-of-bath

https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/cambridge-law-journal/article/abs/significance-of-status-and-genetics-in-succession-to-titles-honours-dignities-and-coats-of-arms-making-the-case-for-reform/3B2FBB705EEFCE82E04E80002D4D486A

https://www.thejournal.ie/royal-inheritance-succession-explained-701049-Dec2012/

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/royal-familys-website-yet-add-24565116

#line of succession #megxit #yankeewally #legality #why

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stark-tony · 4 years ago

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tododeku fic recs

* = incomplete

meet you again someday (after we take the long way ’round) by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku's life is saved by a boy with the strongest Quirk he has ever seen.

Eventually - inevitably - he falls in love.(An AU in which Todoroki never attends UA, they never clash at the sports festival, but they come together all the same.)

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

that is just the way by celestialfics

summary: Shouto has his first sleepover.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

what is right and what is easy by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku, tsuchako

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

First Time For Everything by kazzarole

summary: Midoriya is the catalyst of many of the 'firsts' in Shouto's life--it just makes sense that Shouto should share his first kiss with him, too.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

alone together by celestialfics

summary: Five times when other Class 1-A kids notice Todoroki and Midoriya in their own world.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

A Simple Warmth by patster223

summary: “I’m trying to make Todoroki a sweater for his birthday, but…” Izuku pokes at the tangle of yarn. “It’s more complicated than I thought it would be.”

In which Izuku sucks at knitting, his classmates are eager to help out, Todoroki finally gets to be cozy, and knitting is a vector for romance.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings: none

Conventional Taste by WowBoring

summary: He didn’t think it would matter if Midoriya were taking him to a sewer convention; it was probably still going to be the highlight of his Golden Week.

In order to avoid a visit from his unpleasant grandparents Todoroki attends a hero convention with Midoriya, and learns a few things along the way.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: abuse

pls respond by Esselle

summary: 'Midoriya: UR SO CUTE

Shouto chokes on nothing. How is he supposed to respond to that? Is he supposed to respond at all?

Midoriya: Look at your big head aaaaaaaaaaaaah Midoriya: *Image Attached*

Oh, Shouto thinks. He was talking about Shouto's Nitotan, which is now smashed to one of Izuku's cheeks in the image Izuku just sent, as Izuku squeezes it joyfully. Even if Izuku wasn't talking to him directly, the butterflies in Shouto's stomach feel a bit joyful, too.

He types out: I wish I were that Nitotan right now. Then he snorts, and erases it.'

Izuku has a wide variety of special moves, but his Key Smash might be the most powerful of all.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

i can keep a secret, could you? by handcrusher (ameliafromafairytale)

summary: The last thing Todoroki wants is for his father to figure out that 1) he's gay and 2) he's dating the boy he's supposed to overcome as a hero. So, he and Midoriya devise a plan.

Just how long can they keep it up?

pairings: tododeku, tsuchako, momojirou

tags:

warnings:

hold on tight by lunalou

summary: "What are you doing?" Shouto asks.

"Hugging you." Midoriya returns in a patient voice. His arms tighten around Shouto's waist and he presses his forehead more firmly against his back. "You know it's a hug, Shouto-kun. Don't play dumb."

or, five times somebody from 1-a hugs todoroki and the one time he hugs them first

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man

summary: Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself.

In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: humor, fluff

warnings:

Guiding Light by furihatachlookie

summary: It was his mother's idea to enroll him at the local elementary school. His father believed a private tutor was better, but nobody can argue with a mother who's made up her mind, and a balanced exposure to kids his own age sways his father's judgement enough to agree and sign the papers.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings:

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu's Elite Study Club by hanwritesstuff (hannahkannao)

summary: “Well, as I see it, we have two options.” Shouto holds up two fingers. “We can either ignore this and pretend it never happened or... not.” He doesn't know which one he wants. “What does not entail, exactly?” Yaoyorozu asks. “...I don't know.”

In which Todoroki accidentally learns something about Yaoyorozu, Yaoyorozu accidentally learns something about Todoroki, and they spend a considerable portion of their study sessions... not studying.s

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Do What You Will, If That's What You Want by stanzas

summary: “What do you mean you’re retiring?” Bakugou asks nicely, or at least as nicely as someone like Bakugou can ask. The question is phrased more like a demand.“

Call it a mid-life crisis,” Shouto answers, like Bakugou asked him what the weather would be tomorrow, and takes a deep sip from his coffee. “I’m thinking of changing careers.”

The world of heroes is quick to adapt to surprises, but Pro Hero Entropy’s (very premature) retirement announcement throws almost everyone for a pretty impressive loop.

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, humor

warnings:

extra, extra! by rythyme (pugglemuggle)

summary: Shouto & Creati: ACTUALLY Dating?! by Hitachi Hitomi at September 18, 2047 3:42 pm."Ever since heartthrob

Todoroki Shouto and the Everything Hero "Creati" made their official debuts, the two 22-year-old heroes have been nothing but professional towards each other. But was this all a sham to cover up the truth?"

Or: The media thinks Shouto and Creati are dating. Hint: they aren't. A multimedia TodoDeku & MomoJirou fanfic told through news articles, gossip columns, twitter, tumblr, text messages, and more.

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

you broke the dark and my whole earth shook by aloneintherain

summary: Shouto had imagined himself as the country’s top hero for decades. Endeavour had put those images in his head when he was a child, and they had stayed there, growing like a fungus, until Shouto had reached adulthood. Even now, he was only just beginning to realise he didn’t have to live his life according to almost thirty-year-old decisions made by his abuser. He could do more. Be more. Outside of the hero community.

Izuku gets a job offer in America. Somehow, this brings Shouto and Izuku closer than ever before.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

count your blessings, not your flaws by PitViperOfDoom

summary: Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

pairings: tododeku

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

call the fire department (i'm burning up with love) by Edgedancer

summary: An (abridged) list of things Todoroki Shouto did not have before U.A.: Loud neighbors. Fire alarms. Friends. Midoriya Izuku.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

long nights and daydreams by dreamtowns

summary: According to the public, Pro Heroes Deku and Entropy are an amazing Hero Duo, best friends, and the most eligible bachelors in the world. According to their fans, they’re head over heels in love with one another yet oblivious to the others’ feelings. According to their friends and family, they’ve been in love with one another since high school, but, for reasons unknown to them, refuse to act upon said feelings.

According to said heroes, they have been (secretly) married for six years.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

extra-salty/twitter-verse series by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)

summary: In his third year at UA, Todoroki Shouto works in a burger place, catches on fire and falls in love. Only two of those things are on purpose.

Or...Todoroki Shouto's exciting adventures in customer service.

part one of the extra salty/twitter-verse

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

More Than Skin-Deep by Emmeri

summary: It was a fact, really. That he was ugly. Having a scar which takes up half his face kind of does that, in Todoroki's eyes. So why does he overhear the girls call him the class pretty boy?

He'll just have to ask Midoriya about it; he has too little filter to tell anything but the truth.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings:

Your Biggest Fan by Latios

summary: He opens the bag on the floor to see what could have been left in there-- and promptly freezes, staring at the contents inside.

“Midoriya.” He calls.

“Hm?”

“You bought our hero merch?”

Aka, Class 1-A starts to see themselves appear on merchandise in their local stores. Todoroki tries not to buy things, and fails.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Marry The Mole by Haurvatat

summary: “You're going to break up with him before he can propose.”

The hands went down and the steel wall of Midoriya's entire being went up. “...Excuse me?”

“And in return-” Enji gritted his teeth, “-I will deposit 20 million yen in your checking account.”

The gay drama fic based on a tumblr post absolutely zero people wanted to see but YOU'RE GETTING ANYWAY

pairings: tododeku

tags: humor

warnings:

ascended fanboy by aloneintherain

summary: “I want to honour them,” Izuku said softly. “When I cosplay, I just want people to see how amazing these heroes are.”

Shouto brushed a thumb over his cheek, careful not to smudge his makeup. “They do. I promise.”

Or: Izuku and Shouto attend HeroCon, five years post-graduation.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

#bnha recs #my fic recs #abuse tw #bullying tw

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rainpuddle13 · 4 years ago

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19. playing with each other’s fingers

Ross&Demelza

I apologize, @veryflowerobservation, for taking so long to post this. It sorta got away from me :P I hope you enjoy!

This fic is a prequel to Tears and Sunflowers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an ungodly hour. This having to get to the airport a minimum of four hours before an international flight was for the birds. Their flight to New York was scheduled to depart at 8:35am. Ross didn’t even know why he bothered to attempt to catch a few hours of sleep the previous night. Demelza was practically vibrating with excitement in the bed next to him. She had never flown before. So he’d done the only thing he could do in that situation -- help her work off some of that nervous energy -- and he bore the marks on his shoulders to prove it. He just felt sorry for the very nice elderly couple who were occupying the room next door to theirs at the hotel.

He checked his watch with a groan.

6:21am.

He thanked the good Lord above for exclusive traveler lounges. If he had to queue with the masses in the main terminal, he might not be responsible for his actions. That early in the morning, access to only that swill that passed for coffee at Costa, and masses of travelers with varying degrees of comportment would have him seriously contemplating murder. It would be a very poor defence if he was brought before the crown court, but surely an understandable one.

“You should eat something,” he said to her after she kept fiddling with the fingers of his hand resting on the knee if her crossed legs. They were cuddled together on a small sofa in a quiet spot where she could take in all of the hustle and bustle of the enormous lounge. There were quite a few people for that early in the morning, but there was so much space that it hardly felt crowded. He could feel her leg bouncing as she wiggled her foot. “The food is usually pretty exceptional.”

“I don’t know if I could,” she told him, weaving their fingers together and stilling her fidgeting for a moment, “too excited.”

Ross snorted softly as he was never one to be too nervous or tired to eat something. “You could get a haircut or a massage instead,” he teased, glancing over to see the expression on her face. The Virgin Atlantic Clubhouse Lounge at Heathrow was an overwhelming place with all sorts of over-the-top posh amenities. She was impressed they’d been picked up at the hotel and delivered to the airport in a private car and then were whisked through priority check-in and security in a matter of minutes.

“Really?” she asked, eyes widening with the obvious sensory overload she was experiencing.

“Yes,” he assured her, chuckling a little, and knowing her head would have exploded if she knew how much two upper class tickets had cost. “There’s a spa too and shower rooms.” Ross had wanted her first international flight to be comfortable and memorable, but he feared it might set her expectation a bit high for any future trips they might take. There was a far cry between the pampering in upper class and the indignities of the overcrowded economy class. It was just as well because he would need the extra legroom these days with his stiff knee.

She pressed a little closer to him and her fingers toyed with the heavy rose gold band he wore on his left ring finger that matched the more delicate one she wore. “You want to eat something don’t you?” she inquired.

“What I actually want is coffee,” he paused for a moment, his stomach answered her question with a low grumble, “and I probably could nosh on something.” He’d opted to keep his eyes closed for a few precious minutes while she got ready instead of sending for room service, safe in the knowledge that there would be an abundance of food and drink provided by the airline.

“I can try to nibble on something.” She pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek before standing up and holding her hand out to him and he couldn’t help but notice his beautiful wife attracting the attention of several of the men around them. Demelza was comfortably dressed in jeans that showed off her long legs to perfection and a deep gold turtleneck topped off with a rich brown leather jacket, and her glorious crown of red hair was barely contained by a loose braid.

Within a matter of minutes, he was attempting not to guzzle a cup of expertly brewed Sumatran coffee while waiting for his fry up to be brought to him. Demelza carefully sipped her steaming cup of tea, but left her plate of assorted breads and pastries untouched. He reached across the cozy dining table to snag a flaky and buttery croissant off the plate.

“You’re going to eat everything off my plate aren’t you?” he asked when she raised an eyebrow at his thievery.

“Noooo,” she swore, her eyes following the heavily laden plate an attendant placed before him followed by another to replace his near empty coffee cup with a fresh one.

He picked up the knife and fork to start in on the perfectly poached eggs after a liberal dousing of pepper. “You too can have your own plate. All you have to do is ask.”

“I don’t think I could!” she insisted, stabbing a bit of roast potato and grilled mushroom with own fork.

“Likely story,” he snorted, pushing his plate to the middle of the table so she could graze more easily. This was a common occurrence with her -- insisting she couldn’t possibly then proceed to demolish his plate in fairly short order. It always happened when he ordered something that was absolutely terrible for him, but so very good for that exact reason. Anyone else and Ross would find the behavior less than endearing.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re going to New York?” she queried while attacking the fried bread to smear in the runny eggs he had somehow managed to get a few bites of before she could turn her sights on them. “Not that I’m complaining mind; I’ve always wanted to go, but it’s a long way for a few days.”

It took everything in him not to blurt out the reason for what seemed like a sudden weekend jaunt across the pond, but actually had been in the works for months. She loved Van Gogh. The Met was having a once-in-a-lifetime exhibit. How could he not take her? “I told you I really wanted good pizza.”

“Oh, Ross,” she sighed in frustration, then changed her tactic. “You’ve been to New York before then?”

“Loads of times,” he answered, slathering strawberry jam on his croissant since it was becoming abundantly clear he wasn’t going to get to eat the breakfast he’d ordered himself, “though it’s been a few years now. Father used to go fairly regularly for business and would drag me along.”

“What did you do when you were there?”

“I used to spend a lot of time at the natural history museum and the New York Public Library.”

“Of course you did,” she smiled fondly as she spoke. She was well aware of his love of doing research and learning.

“I like dinosaurs,” he said matter-a-factly, "and the museum has an amazing exhibit.” It was true. He did like dinosaurs, even now, and he’d wanted to dig for them up until the point he discovered girls were infinitely more interesting, and alive. Demelza didn’t need to know that bit though.

“You are such a boy,” she said with a shake of her head. “What else did you two men do on the town?”

“Sometimes we take in a show or go to dinner at fancy restaurants. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was trying to teach me a bit of culture. One time we went because Papa wanted to see Van Morrison at Radio City Music Hall.”

“Really?”

He chuckled, surprised that little piece of information had taken her by surprise. She did know his father pretty well at this point. “He is a fan.”

“I’d say so. He can be so impulsive!”

“You have no idea,” Ross drawled, tamping down some very unpleasant memories from his youth that she need not be burdened with, “you didn’t know him in his heyday.”

She smiled fondly, and it warmed Ross’ heart that his wife and his father got on like a house on fire, but he could not help the occasional flare of jealousy it caused. “I bet he was quite the charmer back then,” Demelza giggled.

“You’d probably be married to him instead of me,” he said with a fair dash of bitterness. There were still a few things he just could not let go of and he knew it as childish to hold on to them for as long as he had, but then logic and his father were often mutually exclusive.

“I dunno about that.” Demelza reached across to take his hand with hers, twining their fingers and giving them a little squeeze, her eyes going soft as she looked at him. “I sorta kinda love you.”

“Only sorta kinda?” he teased, pulling her hand up to place a playful kiss to her knuckles.

“From the first time I saw you in the library,” she confessed, her cheeks suddenly blooming pink.

“Is that so, Mrs Poldark?” That was news to him and he was most definitely intrigued. Ross had known he was a goner for Demelza the first time he laid eyes upon her, even if it took him months to actually admit to himself, and then even longer to let her in on his feelings. He’d had no inkling she’d felt the same. So much wasted time.

“Saved by the boarding call,” she crowed when the announcement of their flight interrupted their playful banter, and quickly began gathering up her things. The head of the cute little calico stuffed animal cat he’d surprised her with that morning was peeking out of the top of her purse. The airplane charm that had been on the ribbon about its neck had quickly been added to her bracelet.

He grabbed up his laptop bag to sling over his shoulder and his cane. “Don’t think for one second that this conversation is over.”

“Not if I can make you forget about it,” she said with what could only be described as a diabolical grin.

He eyed her with great suspicion. It wasn’t in her nature to be scheming that much he did know, but she was definitely up to something. The question was going to be whether or not he’d survive whatever it was. “And just how do you plan to do that?” he challenged.

“Oh, I dunno,” she purred, taking his hand before pressing in close to him to place a very sweet and demure kiss to his cheek. “Have you ever heard of the Mile High Club?”

#poldark fan fic #poldark modern au #ross/demelza #romelza #pud fic #pud's ex libris #veryflowerobservation

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labyrinth-runner · 4 years ago

Note

can we be alone for a bit? For obi wan x reader, please? 👉👈 thank you

Title: A Royal Flush

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: None

Summary: Reader is a Queen returning home after war. Much has changed and she must learn whether she will change for it, or fight against it.

I know I use this gif a lot, but he just looks so soft in it. Thank you, @coredrive for posting it because its truly lovely.

Because I’ve watched way too much Bridgerton, I shared a yearning list, so here’s some yearning. Thanks, @the-mandalorian-clone-lover for putting up with my incessant questions.

The battle had been long and tiring, but eventually it was won. You’d lost so many, and there were still so many more wounded as he siege to take back your kingdom came to an end. Your kingdom was yours again, free from the clutches of your enemy. Now, you were to negotiate a deal with the Republic, represented by the man at your side. Their assistance for yours. It was simple enough after the months of fighting, but you knew the fight was far from over. While you knew you owed the Republic everything, you also knew that some of your court would not feel the same. That would be another battle entirely.

Walking up to the castle across the bridge felt odd. The scorched earth on either side of the path left an acrid smell that stung your nose. It mixed with the singed smell of your dress from where you’d narrowly avoided becoming one with the Force multiple times over the course of the week as you traveled with the warriors to rid the world of the last few holdouts. Your knight and protector had insisted this was no place for you, but you had reminded him that you were not defenseless, knowing your way around a weapon.

“It will be a while before the earth is viable again,” you commented to Master Kenobi as you walked side by side.

“Unfortunately,” he agreed with you, “We can only limit the damage so much.” His brow furrowed as he struggled to ask you something.

“Speak, Master Kenobi,” you bade him, “You know I’ll always listen, even if I don’t take your words to heart.”

“Are you nervous?”

“About coming home to my people?” you asked as you stopped to look up at the palace in front of you. It was large and imposing, towering well above the landscape and leaving you swathed in its shadow. The shadow of the crown that had always been heavy on your head, but even more so now with the deaths of your people on your hands because you had been too naive. “Yes. I’d be foolish if I didn’t worry about them blaming me for all of this.”

“Why would they blame the one person who fought the hardest for them?” Obi-Wan asked incredulously.

“Because at the end of the day, they were left defenseless. I should have known that the kingdom would be invaded. I was too naive to think that being neutral could have spared us. In the end, the people suffered. My people suffered,” you said emphatically. “Now, come on, my people have been waiting long enough.”

You walked faster, pushing your way into the throne room where the rest of the court waited. A hush fell upon the room as they all turned to look at the intruder. There was a man in your seat. You set your chin in a hard line.

Obi-Wan came to a stop behind you as you started to stride forward. One by one, heads bowed down and knees bent for their fierce warrior queen. You were covered in soot and ash, and your hair was falling out of the intricate braids they had been woven into, but you were relentless. Your footsteps were confident and sure as they carried you back towards your throne. The man vacated, stepping to the your left. You sat, looking out over the awed assembly.

“Welcome home, your Majesty,” your advisor to said.

You leveled him with a gaze, “It is good to be back at court. However, our presence brings with it some conditions.” You looked up at Master Kenobi, your lip tugging up ever so imperceptibly at the sight of him. “We owe the Republic our lives, and that is a debt we intend to pay.”

Master Kenobi held your gaze until you broke it, turning to address the people around you. “We will have a treaty drafted by the end of the week. That will give the troops enough time to recover before they are sent somewhere else.”

“They have earned that much,” a man said from the doorway as he strode over to you.

You raised a brow at the man, having never seen him before. “And you are?”

“Kane Gridlow, your Majesty,” he said, dipping into a low bow at the foot of your dais.

You cast a look on your advisor who cleared his throat. “Lord Gridlow has kept the court together in your absence, your Majesty.”

Your eyes flashed with slight anger and hurt that some man could give your people the strength you could not. “Well, we thank you for your service, then,” you said as you sat up straighter.

“Your Majesty, I was hoping to get a moment of your time,” Lord Gridlow murmured, looking up at you imploringly.

A pit of dread formed in your stomach as you caught your advisor’s eye and nodded. “Leave us.”

The court filed out, jostling Obi-Wan with it and you were left with your advisors and the man who had ruled in your place.

“State your purpose, Lord Gridlow,” you ordered with a dangerously even voice.

He shared a look with your advisor. “Your Majesty, the advisors and noblemen seem to think that it would be best for the stability of the kingdom if we wed.”

You almost scoffed. Almost. Until you noticed that your advisor looked gravely serious. “You wish to corner a queen into a marriage.”

“We just think-”

“Not we, you,” you corrected. “We are the acting authority.”

“You were absent.”

“We had no control of that,” you shot back. “And we do not appreciate being spoken to like this.” You stood up and came to stand in front of him. “We will not be forced into things. Not by our enemies, and certainly, not by you. Dismissed.”

“Your Majesty-”

“Dismissed.” You repeated.

Lord Gridlow hung his head, giving you a mocking bow. “As you wish, your highness.”

Your eyes narrowed at his retreating figure. How dare he insult you by using the wrong honorific? Rounding on your advisor, you saw him wither in the crosshairs of your eyes.

“Your Majesty, I can explain-”

“Oh, can you? You can explain how you were willing to just give us out to the first nobleman that came knocking? Is that it? You were going to whore your queen out for the good of the kingdom?” You asked, voice rising in pitch. It was rare that you were mad, but beneath it all, you were hurt.

“The nobles will not support a treaty if you are alone,” your advisor simply stated.

You looked down at your folded hands, feeling quite young despite the power you held. You dropped all pretense and all formality, becoming the woman in a man’s world who was the only heir. The only option. You’d always known that they had never really wanted you, but you never quite felt that until now. You swallowed the lump in your throat and gave him a sad look, “I fought for you. I only ever ask that you should do the same.”

You gave him a nod of dismissal before crossing over to your balcony to look out over the courtyard. Leaning on the rail, you took in the people milling about below. They were preparing for a ball to mark your return. Perhaps they also thought it should mark the announcement of your betrothal as well. You looked up to the heavens as if asking for strength to get you through it all. You’d always told yourself that you would do what must be done for your people, that in the grand scheme of things, you were but one, the sole guardian of the many.

The weariness in the people passing by was apparent upon second glance. Young women wore the worry lines of widows who wondered how to feed their children. Children laughed in sparing doses, the knowledge of the world weighing down their mirth with the absence of their innocence. They looked how you felt: tired. The campaign had been hard on all, but on your people most of all, you could now see.

Yet, could you commit yourself to that odious man who had prostrated himself in public, yet dared to berate you in private? Was that the man you were expected to grow old with? Your eyes fell to the statue of your father in the middle of the square. He had married your mother for love, turning down multiple arrangements before you could even talk in order to give you a fighting chance at the same. A sigh passed your lips at the realization that it was all in vain.

“If I could choose,” you murmured wistfully as you looked down at a young man in a brown robe who had stooped to smell a rose, “I’d choose you.”

As if sensing your gaze upon him, he turned to look up at you. The action dropped his hood from his face, shining the sun on his auburn hair. You gave him a sad wave and his brow furrowed in concern. His eyes held a question in them that you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. You never wanted to lie to him, but you couldn’t burden him with the truth either. Casting your eyes down, you backed away, retreating to your rooms in order to finally take the bath that you should have had days ago but never seemed to have the time for.

You dismissed your attendants as soon as the water was filled. Having spent months on the battlefields, you had learned to take care of yourself. You knew it was an honor to be a part of your retinue, but right now all you wanted to do was be alone with your thoughts.

Lazily, you took your wash cloth and ran it over your skin. With your eyes closed, it reminded you of the time you had cut your arm during a fall and Obi-Wan had cleaned you up. He had teased you for being so stubborn and actually fighting, telling you that he never met a monarch with a death wish before you. He had been so gentle with you that night, kind. A kindness you might never know again. Slowly, you let yourself slip below the water, exhaling a barrage of bubbles as you opened your eyes. The light refracted along the water, glinting off the gilded tub. Only when your lungs started to burn did you resurface, sputtering water as you did so. Your lungs heaved at your stupidity, and you soon found that you were crying as more water droplets splashed into the water. You looked down at your reflection in the water and threw the wash cloth into it, sending ripples through the water. Taking a steadying breath, you got out and wrapped yourself in a towel before heading into your room to be dressed.

“Your Majesty, it is good to see you,” a voice murmured as you sat down at your vanity. You met the owner’s eyes in the mirror and smiled.

“Not as good as it is to see you,” you reassured her.

“It’s been too long,” she squealed before going to find you the perfect gown. “But, I must ask, what is the story of the man who came in with you?”

You turned on your stool to face her, “Liz, he’s off limits. Their kind don’t take wives.”

“He doesn’t look at you like he’s off limits,” she said coyly.

You felt your face heat up at her words. “It doesn’t matter now,” you sighed sadly, “They wish to marry me off to that Lord.”

“What they wish and what you do should not always be the same thing,” Liz said pointedly. “They do not have to live with all the consequences of that decision. You do. You are their Queen. Make your decision, and they will surely fall in line.”

“They won’t support the treaty otherwise,” you replied. “With the Republic at war, they need safe passage through the kingdom. They helped us defeat their enemies on our soil. It only makes sense that we should pay that good will forward.”

“I’m sure they’d understand if you couldn’t,” Liz replied.

“I gave them my word,” you replied. “I need him- them, I need them to know that means something.”

Liz looked down at the dress in her hands and sighed. “Well, should this be your last night of freedom, then we will make it your best. We will make you look so good that they will still believe in the divine right of kings.”

You cracked a smile at that, “Well, I’d certainly like to see you try.”

“As the old monks used to say, ‘do or do not, there is no try,’” Liz winked as she set about to work a magic that was often unappreciated by other nobility, but not lost on you.

By the time she was done, you were exquisite. Your hair was a series of intricate twists and braids that cascaded in all the right places to frame your face. Your dress sparkled in the light as you tentatively ran a hand down the intricate beadwork. It was white and pure. You looked like an angel that had descended from the heavens specifically to save them all. To add further evidence of your right to be there and the fact that you and you alone were their cause for freedom, Liz nestled your crown atop your head.

“Lest they forget who their true ruler is,” she remarked.

“I had almost forgotten how heavy this was,” you mused.

“Heavy the head,” Liz murmured as she pinned it in place, a hairpin held in the corner of her mouth as she added, “If he doesn’t confess tonight...”

“Lord Gridlow?” you asked in confusion as she finished and stepped back.

“No, Lord Kenobi,” she said pointedly.

You blushed, “Obi-Wan isn’t a lord.”

“Obi-Wan? You use first names, your Majesty?” she asked with a waggle of her eyebrows.

You shook your head slightly at her as you got up from your seat and slipped into your shoes. “Titles mean nothing on the battlefield. All are equal when on the end of a blade or a blast.”

“Do you view him as an equal?”

You looked at the crown on your head, “Yes. I do believe I do.”

Music drifted up the corridor from the ballroom down below.

“I believe that is my cue,” you sighed as you went towards the doors.

Your footsteps were light as you followed the melody, but your heart was heavy. As you came to a rest at the top of the stairs, you could see the party down below. Murmurs ceased and heads bowed in deference as you floated down the stairs. All eyes were on you, but your eyes scanned the crown for a familiar brown cloak. Disappointed when you could not find it, you reached the bottom of the stairs, casting your gaze to your feet.

“Your Majesty, may I have the honor of your first dance?” a lightly accented voice inquired.

Your eyes flicked up to the owner and you allowed yourself to smile. “I believe the honor would be all mine.”

Gently, you placed your hand in his. He held it like it was the most precious thing in the world as he led you towards the middle of the ballroom. He bowed. You curtseyed, and then you danced.

“I almost thought you didn’t come,” you murmured, “I hardly recognized you.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve worn clothes like these,” he admitted with a smirk that didn’t meet his eyes.

You wanted to melt into him, but instead you just allowed yourself to be as close as was proper. “You look very handsome, but uncomfortable.”

“I could never hide anything from you, could I?” he asked softly. “And neither can you hide from me. Darling, what happened earlier?”

You wanted to admonish him for the use of that pet name. After all, it wasn’t proper, but you loved the way it rolled off his tongue. He hadn’t always called you darling. It was a term of endearment that you had earned about halfway through the campaign on one of the instances you had almost died. A blast from a canon had knocked you clear off your feet and into the dirt. Your ears had been ringing and you could feel the blood trickling down your face from where you had hit a rock. In a minute, he had been at your side, begging you to hold on.

Darling, stay with me.

“Darling?” Obi-Wan asked.

You blinked, refocusing on his face. “Hmm?”

“Stay with me, I know I’m a horrible dancer, but it’s almost over,” he grinned, but his eyes showed concern.

“There’s nothing horrible about you,” you replied as the song came to an end.

He was left speechless in the wake of you as you withdrew to mingle with people you hadn’t seen in over a year who you were certain could not care less about your presence here tonight.

In your bones, you had known this wouldn’t be the triumphant coming home that you wished it would be, but that still didn’t make it sting any less. An inconvenient queen without a King. That was all you were.

Lord Gridlow asked you for a dance and you could not refuse, however every spin around the room had you searching for Obi-Wan’s eyes. When you deemed it proper to take a break, you went to stand by the sidelines as you sipped a drink.

“He seems dreadful,” Obi-Wan murmured as he stood next to you.

“They would have him be King,” you replied absentmindedly.

Obi-Wan blinked for a moment at your indifferent attitude to it all. “Does the Queen not have a say?”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye as you felt the warmth of his hand next to yours. Your smallest finger brushed against his. His hand moved to envelope yours, but then you remember not only where you were, but also who you were. You cleared your throat and prepared to make your rounds. “Excuse me.”

After the lukewarm reception you received from the majority of your nobles, you began to feel the weight of your crushing reality. You had won the war for them, but in doing so had lost their respect. You wanted to laugh, but most of all, you needed air.

It felt wrong to stand in the stuffy high society after experiencing the hardships of war. There were villages that were decimated, children who starved, and yet here they were practically throwing wealth out your gilded windows in your absence. They wouldn’t notice you were missing, not with Lord Gridlow taking care of their interests and protecting their investments. The nobles, you realized, were content to watch the world outside the palace burn so long as the flames stayed far away. Hell, you thought, they might as well use it to warm themselves without remorse as well.

Slipping out of the crowd, you made your way into the night. The air cooled your skin and filled your lungs. You wanted to scream. You weren’t cut out for this. Not anymore. You stood on your balcony as you looked up into the starry night. A feeling of disappointment settled in.

“You can see less of the constellations from here,” Obi-Wan mused as he came to stand beside you.

“Light pollution,” you replied, remembering how clear the sky was when you slept under it during the campaign.

“Can we be alone for a bit?” he asked softly.

A breath of relief passed through your lips, “Yes, please. I need a moment.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he nodded, offering you his arm. You wanted to laugh at the formality of it all as you slipped your arm into his.

“You followed me,” you murmured as the two of you started down a path towards the hedges.

“I’m always following you, darling. If you blaze so many trails without looking where they lead, then I have to,” he said with a small smile.

“You shouldn’t say such things,” your face burned at his comment. The two of you came to a stop next to a fountain. It was all perfect. The stars above, the hedges around, the faint music heard over the bubbling of the fountain. He was your prince and this was your fairy tale. Except it wasn’t. You knew it couldn’t be.

You settled on the edge of the fountain, taking the crown off entirely and holding it in your hands. “It’s so silly,” you murmured. “One circlet of precious metals and stones represents my station.” You tossed it into the fountain.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and he pulled up his sleeve to fish it out.

“Are you alright?” he asked, knitting his brow as he reached up to fix your crown on your head.

“Do you ever doubt your duty?” you asked him, turning to face him, to study him as he answered.

“I fight for freedom and peace,” he replied. “There can’t be a nobler cause than that.”

“What about love?” you asked softly.

“I suppose at the root of it all, I fight for love,” he admitted, looking at you as if in a new light. “Do you fight for love?”

You paused, drowning in the depths of his eyes. You fought for the kingdom that you so dearly loved, and now you found yourself willing to stop that fight when it came to the person that you loved.

Averting your gaze, you murmured, “No. Not always, at least. Sometimes I fight out of duty.” Like now, you thought, as you were fighting your feelings for the man in front of you.

“Where is this coming from?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up to look at him. His eyes searched yours as he looked for meaning.

You licked your lips, feeling your mouth go dry. Your cheeks burned under the scrutiny of his gaze.

There had always been a pull towards Obi-Wan Kenobi. It was a pull that made men follow him into uncertain situations. It was a pull that made conquered villages want to thank him. Now, that pull was making you want to leave your kingdom behind for him if that were the only way for you to be with him.

His gaze flicked to your lips as you leaned into his hand on your cheek, allowing yourself the comfort of his touch for the briefest of moments as you closed your eyes. In that moment, you could see it all: the two of you, together, happy and laughing arm in arm as you took on the world. A dream that could not be. His nose bumped yours and you pulled back.

“I... I can’t do this,” you breathed out, feeling like your lungs would collapse in on themselves. Getting up, you raced to get away, but a hand came around your arm to stop you.

You swallowed, looking up at the owner as his eyes pleaded with you. There was a fire there that threatened to consume. It spread through his body and into yours where you touched, licking up your arms and sending a wave of shock through your spine. Your eyes locked into each others and in that moment you made a decision.

Regardless of what happened after the dust settled in your kingdom, you wanted to know Obi-Wan in a way that only a few did.

Your hands slipped up into his hair as you pulled him into you, crashing your lips against his. His arms encircled you, pulling you flush against him as he kissed back with the same ferocity as he fought. You wanted to lose yourself in this moment, to hold onto it forever, but you knew it could not last. It was the nature of a moment. They were short, fleeting. To hold onto singular moments was to miss the grand scheme of life, but moments, too, were pivotal. You could see where things had changed between the two of you so very clearly now. In hindsight, it was, in fact, a gradual fall. A domino effect of hundreds of tiny moments that led to the two of you crashing together like two planets on an inevitable course of collision. You could only imagine what wreckage would be in its wake. Should people find out, you thought. So they just mustn’t find out. You pulled back, knowing that to continue to prolong this moment would only risk further exposure.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened at the sudden retraction. The crown felt heavy on your head.

“Darling-” he started to say, reaching back for you.

You ran.

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan x reader #obi x reader #fem!reader

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thecandywrites · 3 years ago

Text

Blood For Gold Chapter 20

Ah, now the truth shall be revealed! Time to show our cards and see where they will lay. So I actually wrote this chapter and the chapter to follow BEFORE I wrote the Kamoba battle chapter because I was overwhelmed trying to pack all of that information and detail into a chapter that read that way and not like the notes of a deranged lunatic from the inside of a padded cell. And writing this chapter and the one to follow flowed so nicely and it helped me keep the focus on the characters and their story lines and their arcs within a battle sequence and not get lost in the battle itself. Which was a struggle for me. Not going to lie.

@punkhorse96 and everyone else- enjoy.

Blood For Gold

Chapter 20

The moment all of you came down to breakfast and just before Gregori could announce the news of the case being dismissed from court, a messenger from Buckingham Palace arrived with a proclamation as all of you stood respectfully to receive it.

“It is ordered by her Majesty Queen Dowager Anastasia Raymond, that all occupants of the Palace of Windsor are hereby requested to go to Buckingham Palace for an audience with the Queen Dowager, His Royal Highness, His Majesty the King, as well as Her Royal Highness Queen Alexandria as soon as possible.” He read aloud before you all immediately disbursed and practically ran back to your rooms to dress in your best attire that you had before you came back down.

“Countess Audravienne Morrigan, you are requested to ride in the head carriage alone.” The messenger informed you as you looked anxiously at your family and Demsey who looked particularly anxious to have you leave his sight as you were only allowed to give him one last squeeze of his hand before the attendant escorted you away and into the royal coach of a carriage as you sat there, alone before you finally found you had the opportunity to read that damn journal as you opened it up and immediately started crying when you saw it was from Demsey two days prior.

You barely noticed everyone else get loaded up into the various carriages behind you as once everyone was loaded up, the whole caravan travelled towards the palace as your heart reached out to Demsey as you resolved in yourself that no matter what would happen at Buckingham Palace, if you did not make Demsey yours by the end of the day, you felt like you would die. Finally, after all this time and pain and hurt, you found what you were looking for, a gentle man who would love you without reserve, be faithful and loyal to you without question or waiver. Who didn’t care if you were penniless, poor and destitute or had nobility or not. All he wanted was you and you would be giving everything you had to him, no matter how much or how little that was as you read through it before pressing it to your chest and wiping happy, grateful tears from your eyes as the knowledge of his love gave you so much peace and comfort and was exactly what you needed as you regained your composure as you only had time to write a single line in it- in answer to the pages upon pages of declaration of love.

‘I love you too.’

Once at the palace you were taken out of the carriage and escorted into the audience room where the Queen Dowager and the King and Queen were seated on their thrones as the Queen Dowager’s Mage was seated nearby and on the other side of her was seated a second mage, a male one this time, as you handed the journal off and requested that it be put into Duke Demsey Voyambi’s hands and no one else’s before you entered the room and approached them.

“Your Majesties,” you greeted respectfully as you bowed low.

“It is a pleasure to see you again so soon, again, congratulations on your victory in the Kamoba battle yesterday Countess Morrigan or do you prefer the title of Sultana Saharazat?” The Queen Dowager greeted you formally.

“Whichever you prefer to use your Majesty.” You answered.

“Sultana Saharazat it is. Now, it has come to my attention that your correspondence has gone missing within the Royal Mail Service?” Dowager Queen Anastasia asked from her spot on the thrown that flanked her son’s, mirroring her daughter in law’s throne on the other side of the King.

“Yes.” You confirmed.

“If you will come forward and approach this table, I think you will find it has all been found and is hereby given back to you.” She offered as you obeyed and came forward as you noticed stacks of mail, organized by who sent what. So many letters from your parents, from your family, from your friends, especially Leumeni, he seemed to have written the most to you before you noticed your own letters that were meant to reach them, and none of them had been opened and they all looked as if they had been written only yesterday before you noticed more than just your mail was on the table, but letters from members of your own household to the Morrigans and Richard’s mistress, Myra as you noticed even more letters from Dr. Rickets to Gregori which was the most surprising to see along with letters from Richard to various members and masters at the Royal Mail Service there as well.

“Unfortunately, all those letters that you see on the table, they are all duplicates of the originals, since the originals were all destroyed by fire. These are just humble recreations of what was lost. We have proof and solid evidence as you can see from the letters on the table, that there are some directed from Count Richard Morrigan to the members of the Royal Mail Service. That is the proof that it was his direction that all of your mail coming in or out to you personally was to be destroyed the moment it touched the hands of the mail sorters and messengers.” She explained as you picked up the letters in question and read them yourself.

“Mage Bellfast, who is seated over there,” She continued as she gestured over to him as you looked over and nodded respectfully at him as he did the same to you.

“He was ordered by my son Gregori, to recreate all of them and I asked him to come to me and deliver it all to me as evidence and proof. Your own personal correspondence to and from you personally was never opened but all other correspondence was to gather evidence. And the proof of such sabotage is as you can see, very sizable. I wanted to tell you personally that because this involved my family and the Royal Mail Service and because it exposed it’s corruption, I am the one who dismissed your case in the public and even the private court systems and I hope you can, one day, forgive me. But I insist on giving you justice myself and dealing with this matter personally because a grave sin has been made against you and I insist on doing everything in my power to set it right. And I will serve as judge and jury, for surely you know that even I, was once a moura bride just like you. And such a slight will never be tolerated again and such a case of corruption can never be allowed to happen again. And may I also offer my deepest and most sincere apologies to you for such grievances and I hope that you will allow me to make amends.” She offered as tears flooded your vision, while a mixture of emotions seemed to wage war within you, part of you was relieved, at least for Jane’s sake, another part of you wanted to expose Richard and Agnes Morrigan for the monsters that they were for all of England to see. But you were not going to refuse this help by any means.

“Of course, thank you, your Majesty.” You thanked her as you did your best to wipe the grateful tears from your eyes as you saw that Demsey had even tried to write you a letter a few days before the ball, to warn you about who might be there and who would mean you harm.

“Now, Mage Bellfast as well as my own Mage, Mage Altissia have found your scene catcher spell and if you will forgive them, but they found your passwords, but let me assure you that I, nor any of the royal family have seen what was behind those passwords, only that they were there and only with your explicit permission will such footage be shown or it can be destroyed upon your decree, but, for now, if you would hold off from making such a decision before this entire case is heard out, I have all parties coming to assemble to so that everything can be sorted out with everyone and once the air is clear and all the sins against you have been exposed, then justice will be dealt out accordingly. Now, as far as I can tell, this involves Gregori, Yalin and their family and the entire Morrigan family as well, along with Dr. Rickets and the post men who Richard has contacted. I also have Dr. Chu and his wife, who is practically a doctor herself here along with five other physicians to serve as their own jurors along with stable masters from Dorierra to change your classification. And with your permission, I would like to call them some of them in now.” Anastasia offered.

“Yes of course,” you agreed.

“Call in, the physician-, Dr. Rickets and the post men, the entire Morrigan family as well as my son Gregori and his family along with Sultana Saharazat’s family in, at this time.” Queen Dowager Anastasia commanded before they came in, all at once from different doors around the room since they all had been waiting in different rooms attached to the main audience room so as not to cause a stir outside of it.

“You bitch!” Agnes screamed as the moment the side door was open and she saw you, she ran towards you before guards came and stood between her and you.

“Countess Morrigan! You will conduct yourself with the dignity of your station or I will strip you of it, have you whipped and then drawn and quartered in the town square!” Anastasia boomed as she stood from her throne as she glared down hatefully at Agnes.

“Sultana Saharazat is under my protection and any threat against her is a threat against the crown and comes with a death sentence and you and your family will be branded as traitors to the crown and everything you have will be awarded to her in retaliation, do I make myself clear?!” Anastasia snarled as Agnes realized the royal family was there immediately slinked back.

“I apologize, your Majesty, I did not think you would be in here but this woman is a...” Agnes did her best to try to excuse.

“You didn’t think that I would be in my own palace? Much less in my own audience room? Are you mad or a simpleton?” Anastasia demanded.

“Neither, just...careless your Majesty.” Agnes tried to defer but her face was as red as beet as Richard looked angry and ashamed as his mistress, Myra stood a decent distance behind them and looked particularly annoyed as well.

“Now guards, keep a line between the whole Morrigan family, the Sultana’s family and the Raymonds, just for good measure.” Anastasia commanded before more guards were called in as your family joined you as you reassured them that you were ok and that the Dowager Queen, was going to be acting as judge and jury in your case as your family was relieved.

��Many many thanks to you- your Majesty for dealing with this matter personally.” Your mother and Grandmother offered as they knelt down respectfully as was their custom.

“Do not thank me yet, we are just getting started, please, get up, also someone get everyone chairs so that they may be seated comfortably.” Anastasia commanded as she had you sit down at the table where all your letters were.

“Now, let’s start at the beginning shall we? Ramsey, what exactly did you say to your father at Sultana Saharazat’s wedding to Count Edward Morrigan?” Anastasia demanded as Ramsey’s eyes got as wide as saucers as everyone except for Axal seemed to be surprised at the news that all of this would start with him and not the Morrigans.

“I uh...well, you see at the time…” Ramsey fumbled over his words as he stood on his feet and fidgeted with his cuff links as Anastasia looked irritated as did the rest of his family especially his parents.

“Ramsey, for the sake of time, please just tell this audience chamber- you said to your parents that day?” Anastasia tried to gently coach him.

“That Sultana Saharazat was the perfect bride and that no one could match her.” Ramsey finally admitted.

“But I don’t see…” Ramsey began before his grandmother raised her hand to silence him.

“Now, Gregori, Ramsey is nearly forty, you have been on him to wed for the last two decades and in the last eight to ten years you have become harder and harder on him to find a bride, to get married and give your family line the legitimate heir it so desperately needs but you were stopped since Ramsey up until that point, has been a roguish rake clinging onto boyish foolishness as if it was his lifeline instead of realizing that it was his downfall and was going to be leading to his ruination, I believe the current lengths you had gone to up until that point was that if Ramsey had not found a bride that season you were going to cut him off financially completely and send him into the army to get the rakish ways beaten out of him one way or another.” Anastasia said with a hard look to her grandson who seemed to wilt under her intense gaze.

“But since then, I have found a bride, and I am leaving behind my rakish past and she is the one true bride for me.” Ramsey offered.

“And was it Sultana Saharazat?” Anastasia demanded.

“Well...no,” Ramsey winced.

“Right, so what I want to know was why you chose Sultana Saharazat on her wedding day to another as your bride?” Anastasia demanded.

“I chose her out of panic, because since she was getting married that day, she was no longer available and it would give me more time and I figured that when Edward would eventually die, I would have had enough time to grow up by then.” Ramsey confessed shamefully.

“So you deliberately chose a bride who was unavailable to put yourself and your parents at an impasse, thinking that they would stop hounding you and threatening you with the army if you chose one who conveniently was already married, by mere minutes.” Anastasia concluded.

“Yes.” Ramsey confirmed as his cheeks were also beet red as he looked at you apologetically as everyone in your family as well as his own actually groaned, along with the Queen Dowager, the King and the Queen herself as the King looked ready to strangle his nephew with his own hands.

“So you had no real feeling or attachment to Sultana Audravienne Saharazat, she was just a moura bride in a white dress at the end of the season and it was either chose an impossible option or lose everything?” Anastasia pressed further.

“Yes.” Ramsey nodded guiltily.

“And do you realize because you panicked and did that, that you are the reason Sultana Saharazat’s life was destroyed?!” Anastasia seethed as Ramsey’s eyes flooded with tears as he looked particularly mortified.

“Please! No! I had no idea!” Ramsey wailed as he shook his head no.

“How could Ramsey have known that the Morrigans would try to poison her with mourkatili! No one could have predicted that they would be so cruel and abuse her, thinking that because Edward Senior would have her that no one else could?!” Yalin insisted, coming to her son’s defense.

“No, nor could you foresee that your own husband, my own son, which after today, that may be up for debate and put into question, but that is a battle for another time. In an effort to give your son the impossible would go so far as to poison his own countrymen to death.” Anastasia revealed in a snarling growl as everyone gasped as all eyes turned towards Gregori who was unusually silent as he kept his gaze on his mother defiantly.

“Dr. Rickets, I believe it is your turn to tell the truth, the whole truth or you will be sent to the tower, drawn and quartered, your house burned after it is turned into a public toilet and your family turned out into the street.” Anastasia leveled at him as Dr. Rickets gulped.

“The day after Edward came home from his honeymoon, he had gone to town on business and had run into Dauphin Gregori Raymond and when the Dauphin questioned Edward Senior about his new wife and he had confirmed that she was the perfect bride, he sent for me. He told me of the encounter and gave me a sum of a thousand pounds if I would poison Edward Sr. with Wolf’s Eye to be mixed in with his regular medicine, Wolf’s Eye is known for causing delirium before it causes a stroke and with his old age, going senile and dying of heart failure would not raise suspicion.” Dr. Rickets answered.

“You took a bribe to kill my father?! To poison him?!” Richard roared as he stood up and pointed his finger at Dr. Rickets and had Richard been armed, you were sure Dr. Rickets would be run through from the rage in his voice alone.

“Yes,” Dr. Rickets confirmed as he could not raise his eyes to Richard out of shame.

“And when you discovered that he had been poisoned, I lied to you to protect myself and my family and put the blame on someone who would know poisons,” Dr. Rickets confessed.

“Which in that household only left me to be suspect.” You volunteered.

“So you asked for mourkatili but at the time the Dauphin was in Dorierra, trying to find Ramsey another wife, and the letter couldn’t reach him in time for me to find an answer and you said that if I did not supply you with mourkatili, that you would find another source so I obtained some, but I added Jade’s Crown to it, to help neutralize it’s lethality until the Dauphin could be reached.” Dr. Rickets tried to excuse as the whole royal family practically groaned and rolled their eyes in annoyance.

“Except that Jade’s Crown when mixed with mourkatili while it does lesson it’s lethality when first ingested, it does not neutralize it, instead it makes it lethally addictive so that the moura who drinks it is instantly addicted and will drink themselves to death trying to drink more and more of it which in turn can lead to madness in a moura with 77% of the cases studied to date it leads to the moura being completely deranged beyond repair, if you really wanted to neutralize it, you would have added Dragon Heart Flower which turns mourkatili from sweet to putrid, salty and bitter so that even the smell of it makes everyone want to vomit, if you were so intent on offering up Sultana Saharazat to the Raymonds, why didn’t you do that or go to the police at the very least to report that Sultana Saharazat was about to be poisoned?” Mage Altissia snapped angrily at Dr. Rickets.

“Because I was afraid, that if Dauphin Ramsey had found his bride once he visited the stables, that I would be found out, and I couldn’t risk the Morrigans knowing I tampered with the mourkatili, they knew what it smelled like and what it was supposed to look like, I could not use Dragon Heart Flower, because they would know that I knew too much about poisons instead of medicine and they would be suspicious of me and I would lose my medical license and my living as a doctor.” Dr. Rickets blubbered as he did his best not to cry and failed miserably.

“Do you think after this moment anyone is going to trust you with their health? If I went to the papers and even hinted to the editor to tell the gossip columns about this, you would be run out of England and all of Europa based on rumor alone.” Yalin seethed.

“And it’s not like Count and Countess Morrigan didn’t know that Audra was innocent. Jane informed me that when it was Audra who discovered that his medicine had been tampered with and tried to talk to you all about it, that she was dismissed and then accused of the very thing she was trying to bring to light and you repaid her by poisoning her in turn and how Jane, through her own snooping found the Wolf’s Eye and the Jade’s Crown in his own medical bag but yet you still did not believe her.” Charlotte offered with a pointed look to Agnes and Richard as Jane stayed by Rian’s side with your family because she didn’t want to be with the rest of her family for fear they would hurt her.

“And the fact that your daughter even now, shrinks back from you proves your own guilt of abuse.” Anastasia pointed out as she noticed Jane’s reaction to all of this.

“And the fact that you then accused her of being brainwashed by Audra and then disciplined her for just using her own mind and powers of deduction because Jane had investigated Audra herself and found that Audra brought no such things with her, says a lot more too.” Charlotte smirked smugly at the Morrigans as well as her grandmother.

“So, what happened after that Dr. Rickets?” Anastasia asked.

“The Dauphin sent a transmission via messengerari, and when I found out that Ramsey did not find another bride, I told him about what the Morrigans had done and what I had done to try to diminish it and then he told me to up the dose to Count Edward Senior and that he wanted to see Edward Morrigan’s obituary in the paper when he got back so that Ramsey would only have to wait another year before he could marry Countess Audravienne Morrigan. But I did not expect Edward’s body to be so strong. And I did not think he would hold on so long, nor abuse Countess Audravienne Morrigan to the extent that he did and I did not think that the Morrigans would be so determined to bury her with Edward.” Dr. Rickets confessed.

“So, your own doctor was bribed to poison your father and yet you blame the innocents in the situation and break the contract by trying to murder the very one who knew something was amiss. Why didn’t you go to the police? Why didn’t you have her arrested and investigated, why go through all the trouble of poisoning her and trying to kill her?” Anastasia asked RIchard and Agnes.

“We didn’t want to ruin our good name and reputation. Mouras are known to die of broken hearts, we thought it would be less suspicious if she died with him and we could pass the blame onto that.” Richard confessed.

“And bury your own guilt with her, brilliant.” Anastasia sarcastically praised as she glared down at them.

“But that wasn’t all your Majesty, the Morrigans have more sins that should be known.” Charlotte insisted.

“Well, no one in this court room can trust either of you to ever tell us the truth, I would like ask the only trustworthy Morrigan left. Jane. Before you speak, know that when and if you decide to do so. You have my word to be protected from those monsters over there that you are unfortunately related to. And if you are worried about your own name and reputation being called into question, know that I personally will guarantee your safety and integrity of your own reputation and if I have to invite you to stay at Buckingham Palace as my honored guest and ward, then I’m ready and willing to make that offer.” Queen Alexandria finally spoke up.

“And I second that.” Anastasia insisted.

“The first time my parents had the mourkatili served to Audra, it was in a tea, disguised as hibiscus tea with sugar and honey to hide the mourkatili. Audra took one sip and immediately knew she had been poisoned and called out for help but they bound her and gagged her and forced it down her throat. She spent the better part of a week being drunk off of it and then almost another week being hungover and refused any drink other than water and nothing even remotely purple in her food. The second time my parents tried to poison her, they had my oldest half brother Dale, who is my father’s mistress, Miss Myra’s son she has born to my father out of wedlock, who was only 20, come and serve it to her and my mother insisted to prove that it was not poisonous, insisted that he taste test it first and Audra could tell from the smell that it was mourkatili and tried to stop him but he obeyed my mother and the moment it touched his lips, he fell down dead. My mother tried to pin the blame for his death on Audra, saying it was her insistance that all of her food and drink be tested first to Myra who came to Audra and demanded to know what Dale had ever done to her for her to poison him. And when Audra tried to tell her the truth, she didn’t believe her. Then my father returned home from business and when he heard about it and saw Dale’s dead body being carted off, he had Audra bound and gagged and then he whipped her himself, even though I was just in the other room and saw and heard it all, And I had a messengerari in the room and captured the moment and it wasn’t until I made Myra and my father both watch it when they learned the truth. Myra apologized to Audra, by my father never did. Instead he then did the same abuse he did to Audra, he did to my mother only twice as worse. My mother couldn’t leave her room for two months after and could barely walk without the help of a cane because he had beaten her so badly, he nearly killed her.” Jane confessed as Ramsey was actually sobbing, feeling so much guilt and remorse as Axal wanted nothing more than to comfort him but the line of guards kept him from doing so as you watched as your own family stopped looking at Jane like the enemy, instead, looked at her with kindness and sympathy instead.

“So then, a month later, my mother tried to have my youngest half brother- George, who was only six, to come and serve Audra that mourkatili tea and tried to do it again only that time Audra, in an effort to protect little George, drank all of it down as quickly as she could so that he would not be harmed at all.” Jane revealed with a broken sob.

“Jane, show them.” You pleaded with her before she nodded and together you went up to the large mirror on the wall that was itself, a grand messengerari and put in your code to bring in the feed from your scene catchers for it to play out on the it before you put in your first password into the messengerari and then Jane put in the second as everyone watched as it all played out as you and Jane held each other and cried as you watched it all as you noticed that someone had gone through this and strung all the “best parts”, or “worst parts” depending on your point of view- together so that it really showcased just how horrible and vicious the Morrigan’s- besides Jane- were.

“This is an outrage! To have our privacy invaded as such!” Agnes screeched.

“Guards, will you bind and gag that wretch to her chair and handcuff that beast next to her...” The King, Leopold snarled angrily before they came and bound and gagged Agnes so that she was tied to the chair and couldn’t move as the rest of it played out as Richard looked fully ashamed and like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole and didn’t fight when irons were put on his, neck, wrists and ankles so that he was bound just like all the postmen who had also been brought in were.

“But your majesties, there is something missing from the record, where is the moment of Edward’s death?” Dr. Ricket’s volunteered.

“He had either a stroke or heart attack by your diagnosis and that happened while he was in the act of raping Audra, I helped her strike it from the record to at least preserve what little bit of dignity she had left.” Jane defended evenly.

“And that will be allowed and of course accepted.” Anastasia insisted.

“Absolutely.” King Leopold agreed.

“Indeed.” Queen Anastasia readily agreed as well.

“So, since it is clear that Sultana Saharazat is the innocent party and since she has paid for every bit of gold and wealth she has with her own blood, it is unthinkable that she should have to pay any more for anything else. However, in order to protect the Crown, the Dauphin’s involvement in this case can not be made public, so, Sultana Saharazat, what can Gregori, Yalin and Ramsey offer you in recompense for their involvement? Besides their deepest apologies and regrets?” King Leopold asked you.

“There are a few things I want from them. The first, I want Charlotte to be free to marry whoever she deems worthy, whether he be of high status or low. It is clear her parents enjoy a loving and wonderful marriage and I want her to enjoy the same with someone who she wants. The second is I want Ramsey to be free to marry Octavia Lafronze and I want her own fee to the stables for her and her companion, Katardrina to be paid as well. I want my brother Axal to marry Katardrina but stay close to Ramsey and Octavia since the four of them are very close and I do not wish to pull them apart. It is clear to me that Ramsey did not intend for any of this to happen and he made a mistake and neither he nor anyone else could foresee how desperate his father was to see him married. And the fact that he has shed so many tears of guilt and remourse, I know he does not take this lightly and I believe he has learned his lesson and will never make this mistake ever again. Gregori and Yalin have been nothing but kind and compassionate and generous with me while I have stayed with them. But now I feel that they only did so out of guilt, at least on Gregori’s part, because they knew they provided the figurative spark that ignited the forest fire that happened at Broadcove. Third, my griffin Heavencrest has mated and paired with their own griffin Charlico. I would like him to be mine so that Heavencrest and Charlico may stay together and fourth, at the ball at Havenfield, Ramsey, in friendship offered that I and the other mouras who came from Dorierra would be elevated to Dowager status, and I want those promises and guarantees to be fulfilled, So I want everyone who has come from Dorierra up until this point in my case, either male or female, to be given Dowager status and any who wish to stay in English society, I would like for them to receive titles of Nobility, they do not have to be high, but I would like them to be high enough that they all can move about in high society with ease, if they wish to.” You answered.

“Audra, please know that at least my children and I had no idea of Gregori’s involvement and I want you to know that all kindness and consideration from them and myself, was always genuine, of course you can have Charlico, I will give you his papers the moment we get home, please is there anything else we can do?” Yalin offered and you could tell she was being genuine.

“I will let you know when I think of something else.” You offered.

“Thank you.” Yalin thanked you graciously.

“Now for the Morrigans, let’s revisit your case, because it does not stop here. You actually bribed four members of the Royal Postal Service to destroy every piece of mail Sultana Saharazat sent out and every piece she would receive and you hired a mage to cast a spell on your own lightning rods so that it would disrupt the signal from every messengerari not only on at Broadcove and Mirador but it was so strong that it made all your neighbor’s messengerari’s cut in and out for the last two years. The fact that you put into question the integrity of the Royal Mail Service was the reason I dismissed your case from court. But as you can see Mage Bellfast was more than happy to duplicate every piece of mail that you ordered to be burned and Mage Altissia provided the rest. But if that wasn’t enough, you had your mistress, send her own children, your own bastards as servants in the Sultana’s household to work for you as spies as you continued to pay them their wages that you had been paying them at your home while they collected wages from Sultana Saharazat as well. Your wife is one to talk about an invasion of privacy, when you yourself have been invading hers all along.” Anastasia insisted as you began opening the letters and read them for yourself, only to find about three months into your widowhood, how all of them told their father in their own way how they would spy on you no more, because you had treated them with kindness, respect and dignity and how he could keep his money, they didn’t need it or want it. But instead, that your own wages to them were plenty generous enough for them to have comforts enough to suit “the likes of them”.

“Except she turned my own children against me, they haven’t reported to me in over half a year! Practically nine months! And they keep sending back any money I try to send them, which is hurtful and deceitful in itself. She has deceived you all and she has clearly conspired with the Raymonds!” Richard tried to accuse.

“Did your nanny drop you on your head? Are you mad to make such an accusation?” King Leopold asked Richard who shut his mouth to keep from saying anything else.

“Nevermind answering that, I have come to my decision. Because of your shameless exploits and treachery. You will be stripped of your nobility. Since you both are guilty of murder as in the case of that wretch who goes by Agnes or attempted murder in both of your cases. Everything you have, all wealth, all connections, all property, business enterprises, investments, land ownership, everything, will be handed over to Sultana Audravienne Saharazat to do with as she pleases and she can turn your precious Broadcove into a public latrine for all I care. Both of you will be sent to the asylum for clear insanity, where both of you will not only be treated with Wolf’s Eye but Wolf’s Mane as well and both of you will rot in a prison cell going insane and because Jane has been with the Raymond’s she was not exposed to the sickness that caused both of you to go mad in attempts to bribe Dr. Rickets into giving you mourkatili to poison and kill the Sultana Audravienne Saharazat.” King Leopold decreed.

“Except for little Edward. He is only a boy, and is completely innocent in all of this too.” You offered.

“Very well, since Sultana Saharazat has spoken for him, he will be brought to be with Jane.

“Actually, your majesty, if I have a suggestion, if you like it, you can use it, if not, let things happen how you have directed them to.” You intervened again.

“Very well, what are your thoughts on this matter?” He asked.

“I have read these letters that all of Richard’s eldest children have written to him, rejecting him because if their father loved them so much, why would he put up with Agnes mistreating them so cruelly so that with just a little bit of kindness, respect and dignity from me- they happily switched their loyalties to me. Richard’s mistress, Miss Myra Bellafont, I wish for Broadcove may go to her. For she too has spent most of her life having to put up with Agnes, and was powerless to protect her own children from her partner’s wife, to the point that her own eldest son lost his life because of Agnes’ hate towards them. They were blameless in that they did not ask to have the father they do and they did not ask to be brought into the world or had any control over their circumstances and as much as Richard and Agnes made my life a living hell, I can’t imagine what they have made her go through. If at all possible, if she could be given a title, it doesn’t have to be a high one, but I wish for her and her children to inherit Broadcove and even though Agnes has treated Myra and her children with animosity, I know Myra doesn’t hold any towards Jane or little Edward and even Edward Senior was kind and partial to them while he lived. Even now the children of hers that remain at Broadcove are little Edward’s playmates and if Myra can swear and promise me as well as their Majesties that she will care for Edward and Jane well, I trust she will care for little Edward as well as she does her own little Geroge and I do not wish for Jane or little Edward to partake in their parent’s disgrace and I want the same freedoms that I have requested for Charlotte to be Jane’s as well, so that she can accept any offer of marraige from anyone she deems worthy as well, who will love her and treat her with kindness, respect, reverence and dignity, all of which she is just as deserving as I am.” You offered hopefully.

“Very well, Myra Bellafont, you are now awarded the title of Marquise, you have come from somewhere foreign, you are a wealthy widow and have bought up Broadcove once you learned that Count and Countess Morrigan had gone on holiday and contracted a disease that made them go mad and your own sympathy towards their innocent children have moved you to take them on as your wards and you are now their loving and caring guardian. The house is to be cleaned thoroughly and Sultana Saharazat will award you any businesses that the Morrigans have so that you may upkeep Broadcove and that income may provide for your needs and the needs of your children.” King Leopold proclaimed.

“Yes your majesty.” Yourself and Myra happily accepted as she curtsied deeply as Anges wriggled and screamed around her gag in her spot.

“Take Mr. and Mrs. Morrigan and Dr. Rickets to the asylum at once and turn these four traitorous men over to the tower.” Dr. Leopold insisted as he gestured to them since they had come in already in chains.

“But it was Audra who dealt Edward his death blow!” Dr. Rickets hollered as the hair on the back of your neck rose as your anger blazed as you gripped the dagger at your waist so hard your knuckles turned white as you wanted to stab him.

“You yourself proclaimed he had died of heart failure in your autopsy report before his body was buried.” King Leopold frowned as Jane and yourself looked at each other worriedly before your own desperation to never be afraid of this secret that you had given almost everything to keep hidden. But no more. If you were going to expose everything, you would not hold back.

“Your Majesties, I do not wish to live any kind of lie. I do not wish for anyone to ever hold anything over me or blackmail me ever again. So, I will show you the moment of Count Edward’s death and you can judge for yourselves, whether I was guilty or not of his death, but I ask all of you watch and really see all of it, do not look away, do not close your eyes and do not turn a blind eye to it.” You insisted as you held Jane’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze as you gave her a reassuring smile as you both put in the third and final password that showed the truth as all of the Royal Family as well as yours watched in horror as Edward tried to rape you then once his flesh touched yours, he turned into a statue of platinum and fell to the bed and broke it, the crash echoing through the audience room as gasps were given by everyone except by Myra, Jane and yourself as it showed you in a panic, touching Edward and turning him to flesh again and then calling for Jane for help as you told her what had happened and how confused you were about it and wanted to know what to do as both of you called in Dr. Rickets to make a diagnosis and then to Myra and the servants to keep quiet about the crash as Myra herself brokered for you to take her own children with you when you would leave Broadcove as a widow and pleaded with you to be good to them.

“Audra, I would like to apologize, had I known that that was the reason for the crash I heard, that I never would have made that deal with you and I’m so sorry if my own children following you to Mirador caused you any distress, I never asked them to spy on you.” Myra offered as she wiped her tears from her eyes.

“I know, but Richard did.” You answered.

“So you did kill him!” Richard practically crooned, feeling vindicated and validated.

“Oh enough! Guard, gag him as well so that nothing else of a poisonous nature leaves his mouth, only enters it.” King Leopold ordered before Richard too was gagged with a handkerchief.

“No, she is innocent of murder because she didn’t purposefully do so because if she did know she had had that ability prior to that instant, don’t you think you yourself would have turned to platinum the moment you landed your first slap? It was self defense, surely you know enough of moura history and heard the tales that any one who dare force a moura to bed, would be turned into a pillar of gold by morning?” Anastasia defended you evenly.

“That was our protection for millenia. Audra did not intend for Edward Senior to die and had Edward Senior had his wits, he never would have done so to begin with. And now that you are officially branded as insane, you can scream such things at the top of your lungs and no one will believe you.” The Queen Consort- Alexandria replied to the Morrigans.

“I judge you innocent in all things, do not let this moment define you and do not let this moment stop you from living your life to the fullest.” Alexandria urged you warmly and comfortingly.

“I too judge you completely innocent. And hereby decree, that because you suffered at the hands of Richard Morrigan, Edward Morrigan Senior and by extension, Dauphin Gregori Raymond, all previous rulings will stand, and this doesn’t change anything except for one thing. I hereby promote you and all mouras who choose to stay in England- the noble rank and title of Marquess as well and award you personally, a living of twenty five thousand pounds a year from the crown for the rest of your life, whether you choose to remarry or not. And all others who wish to stay in the country, a living of ten thousand pounds a year.” He decreed.

“Thank you, Your Majesties, might we invite all the other Mouras in to tell them the news directly?” You requested before King Leopold nodded and ordered for Calla and her brothers as well as Benny and her brothers to come in along with Octavia and Katardrian as the messengerari was cleared to just show a mirror’s reflection yet again.

“So, the reason I have brought you all here today was to discuss Sultana Audravienne’s Saharazat’s case in the courts. Because of certain components of the case and sensitive nature of it, I myself put a stop to it going into the court system to keep reproach from coming to the crown. And with such concessions to protect the privacy of all involved, the Sultana has been reimbursed accordingly and hopefully to her satisfaction.” Dowager Queen Anastasia began.

“Yes, it has been settled to my satisfaction, thank you Your Majesty.” You happily replied as you and Jane smiled happily and with relief to each other as you sat side by side and still held onto each other because now, you both were safe, and more importantly, free.

“So part of the concessions and reimbursement that the Sultana asked for was that all of you from Dorierra, male and female alike, are now all considered Dowagers and are invited to stay in England as Maquess and a living will be awarded each of you for ten thousand pounds a year.” The King ordered as they all smiled brightly and happily.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” They all happily and excitedly thanked him.

“Now, call in the stable masters from Dorierra so that their masters may be updated to Dowager status.” King Leopold instructed before the stable masters came and took two at a time, starting with the adults just as Agnes and Richard were being led out along with Dr. Rickets as he too was gagged and bound.

“Marquess Saharazat.” Mage Bellfast approached you as you sat down at the desk and continued to go through all the letters there.

“Yes?” You asked.

“Again, I am Mage Bellfast, I was hired by the Dauphin to recreate your mail that was burned.” He reintroduced himself.

“Oh, yes, thank you so much. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have it all back.” You smiled happily as he offered his hand as you graciously gave it to him for him to kiss your knuckles in a very gentlemanly like manner.

“But I was hoping to get just the smallest of tokens from you in thanks.” Belfast began.

“Of course, what would you like?” You asked.

“For you to turn this bar of moura gold into platinum for me.” Belfast said as he produced the bar and put it onto the table in front of you as Mage Altissia practically ran towards you.

“Do not do that!” Mage Altissia demanded.

“Why not?” Belfast asked.

“Do you think she would give me moura platinum and not you? Surely you have something made from moura gold that she can turn for you.” Belfast replied calmly as you picked up the bar but nothing happened.

“No, because she only got the power once the mourkatili was in her system and since the Dragon Grevu healed her, thus her indigo violet hair, she has lost such capabilities.” Altissia offered as you blew out a breath of relief as you squeezed the bar with all your might but nothing was happening.

“Well that won’t do, will it.” Belfast before in a flash he hit you with a spell that knocked you backwards off your chair and your feet flying over your head and onto the floor which caused everyone to stop and stare and rush over to you.

“What did you do to me?!” You yelled as everyone watched as the indigo violet drained from your hair back into your scalp just as you found your feet, drew your dagger and aimed it at Bellfast’s throat before he used magic to stop your fist.

“Temper, temper.” Belfast tsked and smiled wolfishly as the golden dagger turned platinum white in your grips as indigo violet blood dripped from your nose as your eyes changed color from gold- to a glowing indigo violet as well as once again the mourkatili entered your body as you felt weak and fell to the floor coughing and sputtering, your blood splattering and staining the wood you stood on as your blade clattering to the floor with you.

“Mage Bellfast, what is the meaning of this?!” Queen Dowager Anastasia demanded as she and the Queen and the King came over to see for themselves.

“Well you saw it for yourself, she is a platinum moura now and I wanted my payment for all that mail and correspondence I had to conjure up.” Belfast explained.

“And since your Majesties have ordered for her and every other moura who came to England to have nobility and a very generous yearly income, wouldn’t it be fair for her to help mitigate that cost by turning any number of moura gold bricks you have in the place to platinum for you?” Belfast offered as King Leopold hesitated for a beat.

“Guards, have ten moura gold bricks be brought in.” King Leopold ordered as Alexandria and Anastasia both gasped in outrage.

“Leo that is uncalled for, hasn’t the poor girl suffered and given enough?!” Anastasia demanded.

“You said yourself that she shouldn’t have to pay anything to anyone ever again, this is going back on your word!” Alexandria insisted as she stared in horror at her husband.

“I’m just asking her to change ten small bricks of gold into platinum, then I’m sure Bellfast can cure her again and all will be well.” Leopold insisted.

“Now, if you’ll please.” Belfast insisted as he handed you the small gold bar as you touched it and watched with regret as it turned from gold to platinum before you hatefully gave it back to him before you turned and walked over to where your grandmother’s dagger had clattered away as you picked it up but when you touched it again, it turned back to gold, before turning to black ash in your hands and disintegrated in your hands as all the jewels fell through your fingers and fell to the ground as everyone else screamed to see your hands now stained black just as Bellfast took the platinum bar in his gloved hands and made the fatal mistake of kissing it, the moment the bar touched his lips, his whole face began to be eaten away and turned into black ash which caused everyone to give Bellfast room as they watched helplessly as Bellfast completely disintergrated into a pile of black ash and clothes, the platinum bar now landing in a heap.

“The plague! You have unleashed the golden plague again!” The Dowager Queen screamed in horror at Leopold as she struck at him.

“Your Majesties, I can explain this phenomenon. Because Audravienne unlocked her platinum abilities once the mourkatili was in her body, that means that only when she has mourkatili still in her system can she turn moura gold into platinum, but that also means that all platinum she turns has the same properties as mourkatili. So, I would not advise for her to turn anything else into platinum, and for her to return to where Grevu is and become healed again, then all will be well, besides, the “cure” that Mage Bellfast gave to Gregori was not infact a cure, but it would make everything Audra touch turn into deadly platinum and she would surely die of starvation.” Mage Alitssia insisted before you went over and picked up the platinum brick and watched as it turned from platinum white- to gold but then black ash almost instantaniously once again.

“Guards, disregard that order about the gold bricks. As soon as they have all been classified as dowagers, they are free to go. My apologies Marquees Saharazat.” King Leopold offered as he looked both fearful yet apologetic before he ordered for that mess to be cleaned up immediately before the Voyambi’s finally came into the audience room to see the King, the Queen and the Queen Mother leave quickly through one door as the Morrigans had already been carted off in chains which was a relief to see before they came in to see you standing there with blackened hands but with golden hair again with a pile of black ash at your feet and on your dress.

“What happened?” Demsey asked as he approached you before the masters returned with your parents and your grandmothers and your hier father and his wife and his mother in tow as they all had their masters rolled up in their hands with big bright smiles as the smiles immediately fell when they saw the scene.

“Addie? What happened?” Your mother asked.

“I unleashed the gold plague.” You whispered before you were called back by the masters of the stables to be reexamined by them and the group of doctors with them as you explained to them what had just happened in the audience room with Mage Altissia’s help.

“Unfortuantely Sultana Saharazat, because of the mourkatili and because of your affect on moura gold, we can not give you the status of Dowager, the best we can offer you is Tavnit and until you are healed, you can not set foot back into Dorierra.” Master Ophelia offered apologetically as you closed your eyes and let your tears of disappointment fall.

“That’s fine, I accept.” You nodded as it was put into your master and stamped in as your hands were washed clean from the ashes as you walked away and went over to Dr. Chu and his wife to get reexamined by them as Dr. Chu took your blood pressure and his eyes went wide.

“Mei, take her blood pressure and pulse.” Wen insisted in Mandarin to his wife before she did as he asked as her eyes went wide.

“What is it?” You asked them softly in Mandarin to keep your conversation private in the corner.

“My Lady, you have the happy heartbeat.” Mei informed you with big wide eyes and a serious face.

“I what?” You asked.

“You are pregnant, about three and a half weeks to a month along.” Dr. Chu diagnosed as Mei nodded in agreement to that diagnosis as you searched your thoughts back before you remembered- that last night with Demsey Draft, at the Masquerade ball, you were so heartbroken, that you forgot to order the pregnancy warding tea. You did not drink it that last time and apparently that was all it took.

“Can I get rid of it? Surely it’s too early…” You tried to ask.

“No, this is why Grevu healed you. I can tell by your chi, aura and energy readings. His magic is protecting this babe from all harm, even now, the mourkatili is not harming it at all, it’s being shielded and protected.” Mei explained as she waived her hands over your abdomen to feel the variations in energy as tears flooded your vision. To be so close to finally being with Duke Demsey Voyambi and Demsey Draft planted an obstacle right into your belly and you loved Demsey too much to try to pass this on as his, even if you married him today, the baby would come a month too soon. And while Mr. Draft and Duke Voyambi shared a lot of the same features, surely you couldn’t live with yourself if you passed this baby off as his. You needed to get out of here. And fast.

“Say nothing, to anyone.” You pleaded with them.

“Of course.” They readily agreed.

“Thank you.” You thanked them as you hugged them tight before you bowed in respect to both of them to honor them.

“I have to go.” You excused yourself as you left the room and the moment you saw Demsey, as much as you wanted to run into his arms, you couldn’t and it felt worse than a thousand stabs to the heart as you came out into the audience room with your master rolled up in your hands as you went over to your family and revealed what had happened with the stable masters as they too started crying.

“Leumeni? Why are there so many letters between you and Audra?” Kiera asked as she picked a small stack of them up and looked them over.

“We are just close friends, that is all.” You tried to excuse as you grabbed the letters out of her hand as you readily got a bag and hurriedly dumped all of your mail into it to keep anyone else from looking through it.

“Yup, just close friends,” Leumeni did his best to deflect just as you heard Benny scream out a ‘What?!’ in horror and outrage.

“What the hell?” You asked as Benny came storming out of that room.

“Leumeni! Coravien! Come we need to go home! Now!” Benny demanded angrily in Marinai as she stormed out of the examination room before you went over to Dr. Chu and his wife.

“What was that?” You asked them in Mandarin.

“She has the happy heartbeat too. Grevu’s snot made the seed from the sex she had the night before the Kamoba take root. His magic is protecting her babe just like yours, but until he lifts his magic, she has no choice but to bear the babe. Even now she is going to plead with him to lift it so she can kill it.” Mei answered as you gasped and covered your mouth with both hands as Sierge came over to you.

“What is wrong with Benny? What are they saying?” Sierge asked you.

“Uh, Sierge, you need to go back to the Palace of Windsor and stay with Benny and do not let Benny approach Grevu until she tells you exactly why she wants anything to do with him.” You advised him with a gesture to your belly as if you were stroking a very pregnant belly as Sierge’s eyes went wide when you made that gesture before he fled Buckingham Palace to chase after Benny.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Chapter 20 #regency era orc period drama #regency orcs #orcs #orc love story #orc romance #monster boyfriend

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callmefitz · 4 years ago

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HomeBound, a TTP Fic

PSA- I don’t know how to do the “read more” thing and this is a long fic so, apolgies in advance for this long post. Also I wrote this at midnight in my notes app with absolutely no editing so, read at your own risk.

Summary: It’s been weeks since the Crown Prince of the Heartlands, Prince Wensclaus ran away from home. During his absence, he’s taken a spunky aspiring knight under his wing to distract from the pain of his disapproving parents. Although, anyone can tell it’s more than that. He genuinely cares for the kid. As for his own family, however, they are not content to lose him. Featuring aro/ace future Wensclaus, a non-binary TTP OC I made named Law, and an older, wiser, but generally unchanged Joan.

————-

Although it’s been years since Wensclaus has been to the Hinterlands, there’s something familiar about the way the wind whips at his hair, heavy with the promise of rain. There’s something familiar about the dull, incessant roar of leaves in the breeze, and there’s something familiar about the dry crunch of dirt beneath his heels as he bites his lower lip, drawing blood as he parries and ripostes a rather impressive attack to his left side.

This place definitely had never held the warm glow of home to him, but the landscape tugged at Polaroid memories all the same.

His assailant, far more used to the northernmost elements than Wensclaus, circled at a wide radius, letting limp their wrist in exertion and dragging the point of their sword in the dirt. Their face was leveled in an annoyed glare (it was rather early). Beneath their tunic, their chest rose and fell in quick succession.

“Careful,” Wensclaus muttered, “We just had the blacksmith sharpen that.”

His adversary lept back into action, once again assuming a rather bold offensive strategy, yet left their form with much to be desired. At any moment, really, he could send them toppling on their back, but this skirmish wasn’t staged for the purpose of an expedient victory.

Although they only employed a handful of successful attacks on Wensclaus, he couldn’t help but to find himself surpised by their skill level. That, or the fact that without the rigid background of swordsman training, they were afforded the ability to combine techniques in a fluid manner without so much as a second thought. It was a skill that he himself envied.

The sparring match between the pair often drawn a crowd of onlookers, as entertainment in the Hinterlands dwindled after Barrabas returned to the Midlands. However, the mist on the plains had yet to evaporate and the cock had yet to crow, so they were alone in their back and forth dance.

Or so they thought.

Through the mist, an imposing horseback figure drew closer and closer, regarding the fight with vague curiosity. She watched the epic climax, and subsequent end, as the younger swordsperson unexpectedly threw Wensclaus off balance and tumbling to the ground.

“Do you yield,” Law said with a false air of suave.

“Ah, I’ve been bested,” Wensclaus replied in a similar play of false airs, “I yield, I yield! Spare me, lest I suffer a worser fate.”

Law laughed and held out a hand to Wensclaus and pulled him up.

“Good work with your offense,” Wensclaus praised, “Your footwork has improved greatly.”

“While yours has only grown sloppier since you’ve been gone.” The mystery spectator cut in. Her horse drew closer in the mist, and with horrifying realization Wensclaus realized it was his Aunt Joan. She dismounted and strode towards the pair.

Wensclaus gripped his sword, unsure if he wanted a fight or a reunion.

The head knight in question stood with an innate intimidating posture that made Wensclaus feel like a child again. However, that clearly wasn’t the case; Wensclaus had grown into his gangly limbs and assumed a self-assured posturer, and the constant eroding factor of time had etched wrinkles into Joan’s face and dusted Grey into her hair.

“Look, It’s the no-fun police,” Law scowled, crossing their arms, yet hiding slightly behind Wensclaus. He only sighed.

“Your fathers have been worried sick for you, Wensclaus,” Joan said softly, “they miss you terribly.”

Wensclaus kicked a stone, “Thats very inconvenient for them. I hope they feel better.”

“Wen-“

“No.” Wensclaus shouted. He wanted to continue, but he then became hyper-aware of Law, himself over seven years their senior, ducking behind the heavy mass of his cloak and gripping it slightly. He sighed. Not here.

“Can we continue this somewhere else?”

——

After a whispered argument that warmed Wensclaus’s heart but ultimately convinced him of Law’s protective yet stubborn nature, he found himself seated across the table from Joan in the only tavern in town and Law sulking outside as they waited for the adults to finish up. A daunting mug of root beer sat in front of him, which was much more interesting than the steely grey eyes of his pseudo-aunt.

“I can’t believe they sent my babysitter to come pick me up,” Wensclaus began, deciding to skip the small talk and poke the sleeping elephant with a stick. Or whatever the idiom is about.

“Wensclaus,” Joan began.

“Like, ok, they have a kingdom to run, but I’ve seen my Dad pull holidays out of his ass so we could have a vacation. They could have come themselves-“

“Your fathers did not send for me, Wensclaus.” Joan cut Wensclaus off with an impressive gulp of definetly-not-root beer. “I doubt they even know where you are. Not that they haven’t been searching, of course. As far as they’re concerned, I’m farther up North to check up on a dwarf problem your Uncle Darling is having.”

Wensclaus’s face drew up as he straightened in his booth. “Wait, then how did you-“

“It just made sense,” Joan replied, “You experienced perceived rejection and to cope you returned back to the place where you first received rejection. The little knight you found, however, was a nice touch. They’re coming along quite nicely. I’m proud.”

The explicit praise did not fly over Wensclaus’s head, “I’m that predictable, huh?”

“You’re not predictable, just human,” Joan shrugged, then at Wensclaus’s face, continued, “That’s just what Cecily has been telling me. And for the record, I’m not telling them you’re here until you’re ready to be found.”

Wensclaus leaned back in his chair and stared down at the frothy mess of his root-beer.

“They all miss-“

“It’s just hard.” Wensclaus said, without emotion. Joan remained quiet this time.

“It’s hard when, you know, everyone is talking about you, like, oh look at Prince Wensclaus! He’s like, I don’t know, in his mid-twenties, and tied down to no one,” Wensclaus laughed dryly, “His parents, they were married by age eighteen. Basically invented love and all that shit. How massive of a failure do you have to be to not love anyone when those are your role models?”

“You must be pretty fucked up.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “God it’s just... it’s so hard. I’m nothing like them and... it’s so hard.”

“You love me, don’t you?” Joan said, “And what about your Aunt Cecily?”

Wensclaus regraded Joan strangely, “Well, yeah, but not like-“

“What about your Uncles up North, Darling and Percy?” Joan continued, “Or your little knight?”

“Joan, it’s not like-“

“Your fathers?” Joan pressed, “Do you not love them?”

“I do, Joan, but that doesn’t count!” Wensclaus snapped. A few patrons across the bar glanced over. Face flushing, Wensclaus lowered his voice and relaxed his clenched fists, “That’s not the point, it-“

“You’re right,” Joan said, “The point is that you feel angry because of the high expectations inadvertently placed on your shoulders by your fathers because you’re different. But to say you love no one is so... far from the truth. Love takes many forms, and they can all be fulfilling.”

Wensclaus gave no response, instead favoring the mug in his hands than making eye contact with Joan. He was holding himself back from lashing out again.

“When I came out to my father, as both gay and a knight,” Joan began, “He tried to fix me.”

This caught Wensclaus’s attention.

“He set me up with all kinds of guys,” Joan laughed, “even a pig farmer. Enrolled me in all these classes for lady-etiquette and had me fitted for a ball gown corset. I was so angry, I ran away.”

“But you and your dad get along great,” Wensclaus said, “He’s over at your and Aunt Cecily’s cottage almost every weekend.”

“Now we get along great,” Joan corrected, “But this was all when you were very young.”

This satisfied Wensclaus’s confusion.

“I guess in the end he was afraid for me and afraid for himself,” Joan said, “Everything I was doing he had never seen done before, and that was scary. When people are scared, they do dumb things, like threaten to estrange their children.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Wensclaus asked slowly.

“When Cecily found out about what my father had threatened, she marched her little sequined self down to the pub he was hiding out in and gave him a piece of her mind,” Joan continued, “After you left, that’s exactly what I did to your fathers.”

“What?” Wensclaus finally cracked a smile, “You yelled at my dads?”

Joan shrugged, “It’s not the first time. I love them, Wensclaus, I really do, but they can be incredibly thick sometimes.”

That sobered him up, “Yeah.”

“They reacted the way they did not because they didn’t love you anymore, Wens,” Joan reaches across the table and grabbed his hand, “They reacted that way because what you were describing was something they had never seen done before, and they were scared for what that meant for you.”

“That still doesn’t make it right,” he replied.

“You’re right. It was wrong, which is exactly why Rupert has written and rewritten his formal apology to you several dozen times, so you know that in fourteen different languages that he loves you no matter what,” Joan replied, “And Amir is currently drafting legislation to nationally recognize aromanticism as a romantic identity and provide funding to revise public service announcements to include it. It was wrong of them to react the way they did, and they only thing they want in the world is to take it back.”

“Wow, I-“ Wensclaus suddenly found himself speaking through tears, “I don’t-“

“I’m not going to force you to come home before you’re ready,” Joan said steadily, “But I want you to know that when you are, there’s a place for you.”

It was embarrassing, the way that Wensclaus began sobbing in the tavern like that. The eyes of half a dozen hitherlandians landed on his shaking frame as the head knight of the heartlands held him to her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, just like she used to when he had nightmares about the Despair. But this was so much worse, because this was not about an enemy he could defeat; rather, it was the floodgates of relief mixing with the festering hurt that had been building in him ever since he stepped foot out of the palace gates. Dimly, he was aware of the soft reassurances his aunt whispered into his ear, but in his determination to speak through his tears it all was mush.

“I want to go home,” he said hoarsely, and he felt the same relief within Joan.

—-

As the door to the tavern opened, Law jumped up from the ground and ran up to Wensclaus. However, after they took in his tear-stained face and Joan’s arm on his shoulder, they stumbled back, as if flinching in pain and disbelief.

“So you’re going back?” Law seethed, “Just like that?”

Wensclaus made brief eye contact with Joan, who released her arm from his shoulder and walked off with a nod. He returned his attention to Law and wiped his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m going back. I can’t hide here forever.”

“But they said-“

“And they realized they were wrong,” Wensclaus finished, “I want to give them another chance before I cut them off entirely. If Joan can do it... then I guess I can too.”

His rationalization only caused his mentee to spiral further, “A-And what are you going to do, huh? Just.... leave me here?”

Wensclaus’s face drew up as an emotional knife stabbed cleanly through his heart. This scene felt all too familiar, except never from this perspective.

“No, no, of course not. No. Never. You’re going to come with me and Joan,” he said, placing his arms in Law’s shoulders in an attempt to ground them, “I mean, only if that’s what you want.”

“I won’t fit in,” Law said quietly, “It will be... weird.”

Wensclaus laughed, “I didn’t fit in either. It’s not that weird.”

In a conspiratorial tone, he added, “Plus, everyone there is weird. Just wait until you meet my Uncle Darling.”

That caused Law to smile as they held their hands on top of Wensclaus’s on their shoulders.

“Wensclaus,” Joan called out from her horse, “Little Knight.”

The pair glanced up from their conversation as Joan trotted closer.

“You coming?”

Wensclaus straightened up, leaving a hand in Law’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

#the two princes #the two princes podcast #prince rupert #prince amir #prince Wensclaus #sir joan #sir Joan ttp #the two princes fic #wens and Joan call everyone aunt and uncle because I’m a baby for the found family trope and the og ttp gang all are a family #rumir

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baejax-the-great · 4 years ago

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5 Favorites

Thank you for the tags @pedlimwen and @noire-pandora!

I’ll tag forward @luzial @midnightprelude @juliafied @swaps55 @asaara-writes

If there are rules to this, I’m ignoring them in favor of posting 5 favorite sections from relatively recently posted writing. If you are thinking, “I haven’t written 5 different works!” 1. Congratulations on your commendable focus to your WIPs, please lend me some of it and 2. I’m pretty sure you can pick 5 sections from the same work.

1. From Serenity (Fenris x Hawke):

“I heard the funniest joke today,” she announced, feet barely over his threshold. “I was in the Lowtown markets, by that stall that sells those Antivan pancakes. As an aside, are the Antivans known for pancakes? It hardly seems like a cultural tradition. Fish stew, those little grape leaf things, olives—those are Antivan. Do you think the owner of that stall never learned to cook anything else back home and just decided to make the most of it when he got here? Ferdo, I think his name is. Have you ever bought one of his pancakes?”

Hawke’s words too quickly became background noise to his work, but when he finally parsed the question, Varric grunted an affirmative. Hot food was hot food, and Varric liked the weird, spicy sauce Ferdo put on it. Maybe she was right, though, and it was only there to mask the incompetence. Fuck if he knew. It never made him sick and it was exactly what it claimed to be. Good enough.

She took a date from his bowl, plucking out the seed before popping it into her mouth. “Maybe I should try one, then,” she mused, “May I have some?”

She didn’t wait for his next grunt, uncorking the bottle that was holding down his earnings reports and pouring herself a glass of wine. Varric flipped through his letters, he was certain he’d just had the one from the beet farm talking about the season’s yields. By the sound of it, Hawke had flopped into the chair across from him.

“So I was by that stall, and Gordon was there, you know, that idiot sailor who got himself punched silly last week when he tried to cheat Bran’s crew with some phony whisky. Still has some teeth left after that, and I guess he’s dead set on losing all of them.”

Varric found the letter and copied the numbers while Hawke told him about Gordon’s myriad problems. As long as Varric wasn’t expected to help her fix any of them, that was all fine. He was full up on friends with poor decision-making skills and poorer coin purses. The last pirate he befriended disappointed him bitterly, and he wasn’t ready to forgive them as a lot. He signed his last document with a flourish and realized Hawke had been silent for at least thirty seconds. He tried to remember what she’d last said to him. “Wait, what? Was any of that a joke?”

2. From The Depth of Fear (Bethany x Alistair):

“Why?” she sneered, stabbing at her dinner, “It’s not your fault Loghain threw the battle at Ostagar and left my home to rot. Or that two Wardens weren’t enough to save the entire South.”

Alistair flinched, though he couldn’t say why. It really hadn’t been their fault, as far as he could see. A bit late on the beacon, sure, but that didn’t matter when the rest of the army had already fled the field. And he had killed Loghain for that, among other things, so justice was served, he supposed. Not that justice brought anyone back who was lost. Somehow, watching her attack her meal with the sort of gusto he’d seen her apply to melting an ogre, he still felt a pang of guilt. “We could have been faster at finding the Archdemon I guess.”

She held a forkful of potatoes aloft while parsing his words, her expression softening into recognition. “Maker, you’re him? That Alistair. The other Warden. With the Hero.”

Alistair nodded, poking at his beans. “That’s my preferred title, you know. That Alistair, the Other Warden. Snappy. Gets the point across.”

3. From First Contact (Garrus x Shepard):

“Shepard, I’ve always wanted to ask…”

She took a deep breath and smiled. It was only a matter of time. “You can touch it.”

“Oh, uh…”

“My hair, right? Aliens always want to touch human hair.” Tali had asked weeks ago. Liara had asked back on the SR-1. Wrex had simply gone for it one day with a terrified crewmate who asked to be transferred later. But Garrus had shown remarkable self-control that led to Shepard wondering if he had secretly asked Kaidan back in the day. Kaidan’s hair might have been better, honestly. He had more of it than Shepard did. Still, the thought almost stung.

“Yeah, in C-SEC we actually had to make a public service campaign to stop people from touching humans. The Drell got it in their heads that touching human hair was good luck. We had posters around reminding them it was technically assault.”

Shepard laughed, trying to imagine what that poster must have looked like. Various aliens grabbing at terrified and offended humans, probably. Touching humans: Not even once. “That is what you were going to ask, though, right?”

His mandibles flexed out and back in. “Well… yeah…”

“You can cop a feel, Vakarian.” She raised an eyebrow. “But only if I can touch yours.”

4. All of TEOS, but sure I’ll pick these lines today:

Zevran put a hand on his back.

“What a terrible burden to realize you are attracted to your wife.”

Alistair shot him a dark look. It was a burden. And a mistake. It was all a lot easier when he thought she’d be some scary warmongering shrew.

“You’re allowed to love her, Alistair. There aren’t any rules against it.”

“I wouldn’t even know how,” he muttered, pushing himself away from the window.

5. And I guess this from Red (Fenris x Hawke):

It was easy to convince himself to keep drinking against the red glow of his fingers. He never thought he could feel a deeper loathing for his own skin, a deeper sense of betrayal or fear or disgust. He’d long come to find a gentle neutrality toward the markings. They made him a weapon, but he was master to himself. They’d sent him on a path, and somewhere along the way he had controlled the destination. And it had been good, so good. To once again lose everything—his past and now his future— to pretty marks etched artistically into his flesh… he could almost hear Danarius laughing.

So he turned his gaze to Hawke. An hour ago he had steeled himself to never see her again. If he’d gotten on his horse faster, urged her into a canter, he would have done it. Left her behind and faced his fate. But she—she always saw a path where he didn’t. She offered him a future, and he wanted it so badly. Lasts be damned, he kissed her. Hard. Red hand on the bottle and white hand in her hair. He should have known that she’d find hope in this, their most hopeless situation yet. She tasted of hope; she exhaled it in every breath. He kissed her like it was the first time and they had all the time in the world to get it right. And then he kissed her again because he could, right now he still could, and right now was everything.

Hawke pulled away first, and he dropped his head against her shoulder.

“Next time we have a problem, we sort it out together,” she said, “I don’t join the Inquisition, and you don’t ride off to die alone when you get a spot of rash.”

“I promise,” he drawled into her neck.

#my writing #god I should finish red #it's just two chapters and yes they are both only pain but what else is new #fenhawke #bethistair #shakarian #oh were the snippets supposed to be short??#too bad I love my own work TOO much

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years ago

Text

COVID-19, Negligent Manslaughter, and a Timeline of Tory Indifference

“I feel sorry for Boris Johnson. He is doing the best he can in the situation and I don’t think anybody else could have done a better job.”

[exhibit A: a gem somebody that I’m Facebook friends with reposted earlier]

It’s a sentiment that I cannot quite wrap my head around. I sit here hopeless and furious and trying to hold back tears because it’s been almost a year since England first went into lockdown and yet here we are, almost 100,000 dead, in an even worse position than we were before whilst other countries begin to slowly return to normality. It is clear to me who is to blame for this, however there are a large proportion of people who don’t want to “politicise” the actions of the PRIME MINISTER with regards to his approach towards handling a virus sweeping the country he GOVERNS.

Typically, these kind of posts making the rounds on social media will be accompanied by some kind of photo of Boris Johnson looking somber as if to suggest that the way things have played out were beyond his control and that he is some kind of broken man beleaguered by the suffering he has, despite good intentions, inadvertently caused.

This one in particular of Johnson with his head in his hands is a staple. In reality, this is a photo taken back in 2018 whilst he was receiving flack from party members for comparing Theresa May to a suicide bomber (for her handling of Brexit, ironically) as well as from the papers due to his rumoured (now also proven, in a completely non-surprising turn of events, to be true) affair with his former aide, Carrie Symonds.

So let’s shut this narrative-where we should feel for Boris because he’s doing his best, and apparently a better job than anybody else could’ve done in his situation- down right here. In a supposedly developed country with one of the world’s largest economies, if we’re talking by proportion, our COVID-19 death toll is up there with the worst of them. It seems that every other state figurehead (bar a small handful), and I mean almost every single one of them, is doing a better job. People love to throw figures out there about how densely populated we are to combat damning statistics as if we haven’t got just as many factors playing to our advantage, as if it’s unfair to compare our response to Germany’s or Japan’s or Singapore’s (both of which are far more densely populated) or New Zealand’s or Vietnam’s, but we are an ISLAND with world-leading technology and infrastructure and healthcare equipment and professionals and a relatively high standard of living. In what world is almost 70,000 dead in a country with abundant time and means to prepare a response reflective of said country’s leaders doing a good job?

Apparently we’re supposed to believe that Johnson feels some sense of moral responsibility for this astronomical failure. A man who refuses to acknowledge the multiple children he has fathered outside of his marriages and who has had repeatedly engaged in affairs and one-night stands throughout said marriages. A man who continued to cheat whilst his most recent wife was receiving treatment for cervical cancer, for fuck’s sake. Yep, a real stand-up guy.

So where does this idea that Johnson must feel remorseful for this catastrophe come from? We haven’t seen a second of remorse or a hint of accountability for the lives lost from him nor any members of his cabinet. That much is really no surprise; I have this hypothesis, and it’s not a stretch, that these people do not have an ounce of empathy in their bodies. These ridiculously privileged, privately-educated individuals who have had everything handed to them their entire lives simply cannot put themselves in the shoes of the average working person and that is the problem. Unable to recognise that what distinguishes them from most others is little more than the luck of being born into wealth and the abundance of recourses and connections that has entailed throughout their lives, they see us as beneath them-as less intelligent, less driven, and thus less deserving of the status and respect they enjoy. They see us as a bunch of whining, unmotivated idiots who do not recognise the chokehold they have over our media nor the fact that everything they do is a desperate grab to keep money and power within the hands of a select group of people, an exclusive members club from which most of us are barred (just take a simple Google search and watch Jacob Rees-Mogg’s opinion of the Grenfell victims or the buried Johnson speech where he talks about how inequality is essential). They know that we will squabble amongst ourselves about who is to blame rather than wising up to the truth which is that every decision they make is fuelled by cronyism and the inability to make and follow through with difficult choices, the pandemic being no exception. The supposedly self-made elite see the life of the average working class person as having far less value than their own, and their parties actions over the last 10 years have made that very clear.

It was in December 2019 that the first case of COVID-19 was declared to the World Health Organisation and on March the 11th that they announced they considered it as a pandemic. In Wuhan, people were dying of pneumonia in their clusters. And what was Boris Johnson doing in this time? Well for starters, here in the UK we didn’t even have a pandemic committee-Johnson had scrapped it six months before. If years of benefits cuts and defunding of the NHS in favour of funding nuclear weapon programs, keeping British troops on other people’s lands, and tax breaks for the mega corporations that donate to their party didn’t convince you that the Conservatives have little regard for human life, them getting rid of this committee-whilst a pandemic has been declared year after year as the greatest threat to mankind-should have been the first sign of trouble. As if that wasn’t enough, he also skipped five of the COBRA (meetings are made up of a cross-departmental committee put together to respond to national emergencies and PMs routinely attend those pertaining to crises on the scale of COVID-19) meetings addressing the situation. Whilst other countries were closing their borders and stocking up on PPE, Johnson and his ministers were selling PPE abroad and simply telling people to wash their hands to the length of the tune of happy birthday. Their only policy was one of “herd immunity”, which was in fact not a policy but just an abandonment of their party’s public duty disguised as one, intentionally obfuscated with pseudoscientific jargon.

Even thinking the absolute worst of politicians you would hope that when it came to the point where the UK’s non-response to COVID-19 was becoming an international disgrace, Johnson and his ministers would take proper protective measures if only to save face. But when they eventually seemed to do so, it became clear that the priority was not the safety of the ordinary people affected by the virus. Outsourcing their test and traces system to companies such as Serco, Sitel, Deloitte and G4S rather than public health services, Conservative ministers could not resist attempting to line the pockets of their friends and benefactors in the process. According to the Guardian, instead of reaching out to the experts or using publicly funded services to handle COVID containment measures, the Conservative party has awarded a disgusting £1.5 BILLION WORTH of contracts to businesses with explicit connections to its MPs and donors, the majority of which lack any relative experience of the tasks they’ve been trusted to carry out. Unsurprisingly, the National Audit office found that when awarding contracts relating to the production of COVID-19 protection measures and treatment needs, there was a “high-priority lane” for suppliers referred by senior politicians and officials; companies with a political referral were 10 times more likely to end up winning a government contract than those without. On top of this, it is not hard to draw a link between the late initiation of lockdown measures and preemptive openings of pubs and restaurants against scientific advice to the interests of frequent donors such as Wetherspoons owner Tim Martin. Even if one chooses to ignore the blatantly obvious correlation between the owners of the businesses whose profits were prioritised over safety concerns and the number of those owners who donate to the Conservatives, party officials at the very least were reluctant to follow the lead of many other countries in financing furlough schemes themselves and instead avoided this responsibility by using loose lockdown measures to leave it down to the discretion of small business owners, who couldn’t themselves afford to furlough staff, whether or not to stay open.

Time and time again, as the government flounder and fuck about, favouring personal desires to keep their powerful, high-paying jobs and to satisfy the corporate allies who make this possible, blame has been shifted from the public to care homes to NHS workers and back again whilst we, the public, make the biggest sacrifices of all under the illusion that we were being guided out of this pandemic rather than lied to and thrown under the bus. Whilst the elite continue to pick and choose what rules apply to them, it’s students and the elderly and the vulnerable paying the fines and scrabbling to afford basic living costs and hoping that they don’t lose someone dear to them.

Don’t get me wrong, a large proportion of the public have contributed to the spread too with their selfishness and entitlement and the arrogance it takes to develop a sudden refusal to acknowledge basic science from experts who have studied in the field their whole lives so that they can justify their need to go to the pub (speaking of, it’s absolutely HILARIOUS how many “mental health advocates” are suddenly coming out of the woodworks on football avi Twitter after they’ve spent years calling people on mental health Twitter attention seekers). And don't get me wrong, there were inevitably going to be casualties of this pandemic. But it didn't have to spread to this many people, and there didn’t have to be so many deaths due to a lack of preparation, and this wouldn’t have been the case if it weren’t for the inherent apathy of the Conservative party towards the lives of people of lesser status than them, the reluctance to put those lives before party interests. I wish I felt like there was an end in sight, I wish there was some positive takeaway from all of this, but even now, we continue to see corners being cut with the vaccine lauded as our saving grace and anti-maskers gathering outside hospitals to chant about how “oppressive” it is to be urged to wear a bit of cloth over their faces for the short periods of time in which they leave their houses and all I can think of is the selfishness that runs like poison through our country. It makes me sick and leaves me to question desperately where we go from here. I don’t like unanswered questions, I don’t like feeling politically directionless, and I don’t like the growing fear I have about the state of the world which seems to intensify every single day. In the UK at least, it’s starting to feel like nothing will ever change-we’re told we live in a democracy and yet mainstream media is owned by the people whose interest is to keep their Conservative friends in power. The stronghold they have over print media in particular allows them to continually get away with smearing and defaming every person who comes along and seems to want to actually help ordinary people, without being challenged, to the point where the only kind of “opposition” we’re left with promises nothing but a big boss approved tactical reshuffling of the status quo (which they call “electability”); it doesn’t feel like democracy when the majority of the country are being fed misleading information and convinced against voting in their best interests.

This is the result of that. The state we find ourselves in is the inevitable result of being manipulated into helping the elite build their protective wall whilst the rest of us scrabble to get in and step on each others heads along the way, the people inside shouting over that it’s those even more vulnerable than ourselves that are taking our places. Outside the wall, the earth is falling from beneath our feet, and instead of throwing over the ropes to help us out, the people inside are stockpiling them so they can secure their firm place above ground and then later flog the rest. How many more people have to die before we reach some kind of widespread realisation of that? Where do we go from here and what do we do? Well for one, we can stop spreading those god-fucking-awful textposts on Facebook and get our heads out of our arses. Wear our masks over and wear them over our fucking noses. Have some fucking consideration for others. Don’t wait til an issue affects you personally to give a fuck about it. AND START HOLDING THE FUCKING PRIME MINISTER AND HIS MINISTERS AND HIS ENTIRE PARTY AS WELL AS THE OPPOSITION MPS THAT HAVE SAT BY THE SIDELINES AND ALLOWED THIS TO GO ON WITHOUT PROTEST ACCOUNTABLE. That would be a good start.

I’m so tired. Things didn’t need to be this way, and yet because of the selfishness of the few, thousands upon thousands are dead. It’s not about “throwing around blame”, it’s not about “throwing around” anything, it’s about expecting a leader to do his best to protect lives. If that is “throwing blame”, let’s get things clear, I have no issue with hurtling it torpedo style at those who handed out a death sentence to so many in this country rather than do anything that might compromise their own privilege. Honestly, pass me the shovel after and I’ll happily bury the wreckage in the ground. Who wants to join?:-)

#rant #politics #anti capitalism #anticapitalist #covid-19 #covid #england #labour #socialism #fuck the tories #fuck the torys #fuck boris #rant post

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highladyluck · 4 years ago

Note

For the fic title meme: Lay Down Your Crown and Sword

So, I was thinking maybe this is about Aviendha's feelings about Rand when they're in the Aiel Waste... just kidding, I know what the people want from me.

Wheel of Time, Mat/Tuon, post-canon, ANGST. This is one take on a scenario where Mat attempts to achieve his stated relationship goal, which is convincing Tuon to abdicate and run away with him.

(This sucker is LONG and SPOILERY so I’m putting it under a cut.)

It's ~2 months after the Last Battle. There's growing danger to Tuon- an almost-successful assassination attempt (my money's on Moghedien) that scares Mat, Selucia, the Deathwatch, and maybe even Tuon herself, just a little. The sul'dam secret is leaking out and emboldening the faction that wants to kill her, there's worry it'll lead to local rebellion, plus there's still the Seanchan homeland power struggle. Mat uses all this to convince Tuon that she needs to lie low for a while. His idea is for her to fake her own death, install a puppet successor secretly loyal to her, and go hide out with him in a place no one will be able to find them for a few months.

She's not thrilled about it initially, but it's not like she hasn't faked her own death before (love that about her!) so she agrees to Mat's plan, which is 'hang out in a Portal Stone alternate timeline'. (Mat would not come up with this on his own, Mat does not like Portal Stones, but Min suggested it and he eventually agreed it would suit their needs.) Tuon would prefer something where she could keep an eye on political conditions more easily, but she feels safe with Mat & appreciates that this is definitely a secure option, and she's been out of contact with home base before for a while and been fine. Selucia stays in the palace, to keep an eye on things and do intrigue (and also give Mat and Tuon actual alone time- I am entertained by the grudging truce between Mat and Selucia, but her chaperone services are not needed this time around.)

They've got an official pickup scheduled in a few months, about a month before Tuon's due; Mat thought about waiting more time to go back but he'd rather have the option to call in trusted medical help for the birth and he wants to leave a wide margin of error for the actual due date. He intends to rope in Nyneave if it seems necessary, although he doubts he'll be lucky enough that Nyneave would help Tuon out of the goodness of her heart or even as a favor to him. More likely Nyneave's help would cost Tuon in political concessions, which he will have to either convince Tuon to accept- assuming she's in a position to make that kind of choice- or negotiate on her behalf, if she's in too much immediate danger. Either scenario keeps him up at night, but the alternative is worse. Also, he hasn't run this contingency plan by Tuon yet- likely because he isn't totally against the idea of extracting political concessions from Tuon, so there's guilt as well as fear of how she'd react. The other thing Tuon doesn't realize about this vacation plan is that Mat is hoping to convince her to move there forever- if it's nice- or at least to keep faking her death and start a new life with him somewhere in disguise in their reality.

The Portal Stone world is one that's relatively close to their world, so it has people and feels fairly familiar, but the apocalypse hasn't happened yet and doesn't appear to be doing so in the near future. (For fun let's say the obvious divergence is Damodred-related; maybe the non-asshole Damodred branch is in charge, so you don't get Laman's Sin and/or Tigrane is actually happy in her political marriage, so the Dragon hasn't been reborn yet.) Tuon's ok with the 'vacation' vibe at first, we get some cute romantic bonding moments between her and Mat as they do normal people things, they have some cute dates in taverns or whatever. But Tuon becomes increasingly bored and anxious and frustrated about not being able to keep tabs on what's happening- probably some residual trauma from the last time she went AWOL with Mat, and came back to find her homeland in shambles and her family dead. So that's a source of conflict, especially since she doesn't actually confide that in Mat. She also keeps wanting to hash out political/military plans for when they get back, but Mat keeps trying to distract her, or makes arguments she doesn't like (re: Seanchan policy reform). Maybe Mat brings up the Nyneave contingency plan because he got worried about her health, and Tuon's like 'uh how long have you been sitting on this idea, when the fuck were you going to run it past me, the person it most concerns?'

Their relationship has always had an element of conflict in it, but back then they were strangers, had rules of engagement constraining them, and a kind of shared purpose. Their conflict was a kind of game that they played together, and it drew them closer. Now they know how to get under each other's skin and aren't constrained by witnesses or promises, and they have a shared mission (keeping Tuon safe) but don't agree on who is in charge of it. What's holding them together still is their own compassion and affection for each other, but they're not great at communicating it with words and now they're using words as weapons sometimes, so most of the reconciling is with gestures/gifts/actions. In general, things are tense and there's not much going on outside of their own interactions to distract them; Tuon's temper is flaring, she's feeling powerless and like her personal integrity is being attacked sometimes; Mat's being propelled around by his gut reactions and he's scared of losing her (and the baby), in any number of ways, and mad that she doesn't want what he thinks is best.

Finally the scheduled transit date arrives and they pop back to their original universe and get caught up on the news (maybe from Min?) Over in Seanchan, possibly emboldened by news of Tuon's 'death', a warlord has consolidated most of the warring factions. Now they know who to go after, and a war in Seanchan would help unify the Seanchan in the westlands; the Seanchan military-industrial complex loves a good patriotic war. Things domestically are a little better than before they left. Selucia flushed out the network from the earlier assassination attempt and is generally keeping things running and the puppet ruler honest.

Tuon's relieved; she was really worried that everything was going to fall apart when she was gone and now she's kind of grateful for the break. She tries to tell Mat this without actually admitting that she's got trauma around it, because the Empress doesn't admit weakness and Tuon the person is extremely bad at talking about feelings anyway; she's like "Ah, that's much better news than I came back to last time you kidnapped me. I'm glad to be back to work again, let's get to it." Mat's irritable, not catching on that she was actually really worried about it based on her previous experience, and thinking she didn't appreciate the break, and also worried that his plans to convince her to leave with him aren't going to work. Tuon catches that he's cagey and unhappy and not getting her jokes, and she remembers that this was what he seemed like when she first saw him in the Tarasin Palace. Mat argues that they should at least wait until the baby comes, that the person she put in charge is doing well, they can certainly let them rule a while longer. He says he's not sure it's the right time to attack Seanchan, he'd need to check the troops out, sniff out local sentiment. He's not decisive or commanding or focused when he says these things- it's stalling, it's bravado covering panic. It dawns on her- oh shit, he's gonna run.

Tuon's spooked. She KNOWS Mat now, but that doesn't mean she knows what to do to hang on to him. She doesn't know how to deal with a loss of control in her personal life, so she turns to what she knows she can control- the empire, her role, her property. She takes refuge in past promises. She tells him they will discuss the disposition of the army and the prosecution of the war in Seanchan once her heir is born and she's officially 'off the hook'. Mat looks grim.

Tuon wanted to announce that she's back immediately, but she starts having contractions and Mat's like 'you are absolutely not going to return from the dead right this second, you're super vulnerable right now.' They stay in a relatively secret spot in Tuon's territory with a small coterie of loyal retainers until the baby is born; it goes fine. There is one (1) cute bonding moment between Tuon and the baby and Mat; then the baby vanishes. Mat was on guard along with the usual people you'd expect to be on guard (not Karede, Selucia, or Min though). Tuon FUCKING KNOWS Mat did it with Aes Sedai help, she's initially furious and betrayed, but Mat isn't admitting it and within the extremely tight circle of people who know about the vanished baby, he's doing a reasonably convincing job looking as freaked out and upset as everyone else, and she's still hoping she can resolve this privately without any drastic public actions.

She takes Mat to a private place and she tells him that she has always, always been able to trust him. She trusts him so much it terrifies her. She does not know if this is what love is, but it is what she feels for him. She asks him to honor that, to honor himself, and not to lie to her. She then asks him why he kidnapped their child. Mat staggers, and blurts out that he can't bear the thought of their children constantly at risk of assassination, from strangers or their own siblings. He has nightmares about their child beginning to channel, or being able to learn, and what that means for them in the Empire. Tuon's made her choice and he'll respect that, though he hates the risks to her, and what the Empire does to her and others. But their child deserves the choice Tuon didn't have. He loves Tuon, but he cannot love the Empire, and he will not fight in the Empire's wars, and he will not let the Empire own his children, whether that's as royalty, sul'dam, or damane. He says he trusts she'll come to the right decision about what to do with this information.

The next scene has Tuon in mourning white. It's neither Tuon's nor Mat's POV- probably Karede, or maybe Min. In front of the whole court Tuon, as Empress back from the dead, bestows the Bloodknives ring and blessing on Knotai, and orders him to take a few members of the Deathwatch (the ones on watch the night the baby vanished, our observer notes) and assassinate the warlord in Seanchan on her behalf. She says she trusts he will succeed. They stare inscrutably at each other. The court is shocked into silence at first, but the whispers rise behind Mat as he straightens from his extraordinarily polite leg and heads out of the chamber. It is left up to the reader to decide if this is an elaborate plan to fake Mat's death and set him free, or his execution.

--- You may notice this is suspiciously fleshed out for a prompt I received this afternoon. XD I've been kicking around some of this premise for a while, though this ask made me finally come up with the circumstances that get Tuon to actually agree to temporarily leave her job, as well as most of the details. The main emotional beats came from stringing together several Mountain Goats songs, because of course it did. The whole sequence is Twin Human Highway Flares, Riches and Wonders (Eliza Rickman cover), Alpha Incipiens, Fault Lines, New Britain, Family Happiness. I’m not sure if I’ll actually turn this into a finished story with description and dialogue and everything, but it’s possible. This is also not the only Mat/Tuon post-canon idea I have kicking around! It’s not my ideal scenario for them for sure, but it’s a lot easier to write a ‘bad ending’ for them than to work on my ‘good ending’, because I have a lot more emotional investment in the ‘good ending’... perfectionist problems. :/

#wheel of time #fic title meme #livlepretre #mat/tuon #wheel of time fanfic #problematic fave tuon

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myforeverforlife · 5 years ago

Text

all I want is you, my love.

For @blanknearvana Idol Baekhyun (They’ve gone public with their relationship, supporting him during a comeback pre-recording and being insecure because he's a star and she's a nursing student trying to graduate) and 89. "And when did you plan on telling me this?" + 141. "Use your words." (I hope you like it! I think I strayed from the request a bit but I’m hoping everything makes sense LOL)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Word Count: 2,837

Masterlist

You were stressed out, to say the least. For the last three years, you had been tackling a heavy courseload in order to earn your bachelor's in nursing, along with hectic internship hours. Just recently, you had also begun studying for the Korean Nurses' Licensing Exam. The work kept piling up, and some days were more draining than others.

In the roughest of times, your boyfriend was there to help. Of course, it was still difficult, seeing as he was one of the biggest idols in South Korea — correction, in the world. But as faithful as Baekhyun was to his fans, he was even more devoted to you. Baekhyun did everything in his power to be just as present in the relationship as you were, making it home to your shared apartment every night — unless he was out of the country, of course. Both of you took solace in the shared comfort of your relationship for the past couple of years, finding escape from the stresses of work in each other.

The two of you had been extremely careful in keeping your relationship hidden from the public. Although Baekhyun had everlasting faith in the support and love from his fans, you had heard of enough horror stories when it came to celebrities dating. Plus, the fear of anti-fans figuring out who you were, where you worked and went to school... it was overwhelming. There had already been a few close calls in the past month, a few stalkers getting much too close for comfort. Baekhyun understood how you felt, but he also believed it was better to be the ones to share the news. He had seen how much worse fans reacted when the news outlets were the ones to spread news, rather than the idols themselves.

A mess of conflicting thoughts swirled around in Baekhyun's head, both of you curled up on the couch as a movie played on TV. "Babe?" he asked hesitantly. He continued on when he heard you hum in response. "I want to go public about us." Baekhyun sat up when he felt you freeze, both of you breaking apart. "Why now?" you asked. "You really want to do this before your album's released?" Sighing, you covered your face with your hands. "Baek, I don't know about this."

"Hey," Baekhyun gently pried your hands away, his fingers twining with yours. "Look at me, please." He mustered up a reassuring smile when you met his eye, worry written all over both of your faces. "I was talking to my manager, and we were thinking that it would be better to do it before the pre-orders open, instead of after the album release. If we announce it after, people might accuse me of trying to hide a "scandal" to save album sales. At least if we announce it before the album comes out, we'll know who the true Eris are, the ones that care enough to stick around and support us."

You hated to admit it, but his argument made sense. But something else was bothering you... "Baekhyun, when did you plan on telling me this? You talked about this with your manager before me?"

Baekhyun's face fell, guilt washing over his features. "I didn't want to worry you until I had a plan for sure. I just went to ask him and others at the company for advice, it was literally only a couple of days ago."

"A couple of days? God, Baek, I wish you had come to me first." You could feel the tears starting to well up, feeling betrayed and angry that Baekhyun hadn't confided in you first.

"Baby," Baekhyun pleaded. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you, I... I wasn't trying to do things behind your back."

"We're dating, Baekhyun. We're supposed to talk about this together." You ripped your hands out of his, getting up and heading for the bathroom. "It's like I don't even get a choice."

Baekhyun got up, following after you. "That's not true. This is still our decision to make, together."

You rolled your eyes, flipping on the bathroom lights as you reached out to grab some tissues. "Really? What's your company going to say if I don't want to go public now?" You turned around, eyes red-rimmed when Baekhyun didn't respond. "They're not going to take no for an answer, are they?"

"I... I'll talk to them, if that's what you really want. I will," he added firmly when you stared at him skeptically. "At the end of the day, I care about what you think the most, not my fans, not the company." Baekhyun was desperate, heart breaking as you stood there, teary-eyed and furious with him. How long had it been since the two of you had fought?

You sniffled through your tears, wiping at your face with the clump of tissues in your hand. "I don't know, Baek, honestly. Huffing in frustration, you tossed your used tissues onto the bathroom counter. "I knew this would happen eventually, but... I guess I just hoped that we'd have more time."

Baekhyun came closer, wanting to hug you but also unsure of whether you'd be okay with it. You settled the matter for him, bridging the gap as soon as he took a step forward. Baekhyun sighed in relief when you wrapped your arms around him, his own instantly coming up to wind tightly around your waist.

"I'm scared, Baek — for both of us. People can be horrible when it comes to this stuff. Your fans love you so much, I don't want this to affect your career."

Baekhyun pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "We haven't done anything wrong. And if people have a problem with it, then they were never true fans in the first place. I just want to get this out in the open so that we don't have to hide all the time. I want to go on romantic dates with you in public, to hold your hand without worrying about who'll see."

"I want that too," you mumbled, the side of your face resting against Baekhyun's chest. The two of you stood in silence, unsure of where to go from here.

"You don't have to give me an answer right away," Baekhyun finally spoke up. "I'll stall with the company, if I have to." His thumbs traced patterns into your sides, calming you down with each brush of his fingers.

Straightening up, you shook your head. "No, you're right, it's safer to announce it sooner rather than later. But aren't you worried about it affecting sales and charting?"

Baekhyun shrugged, trying to hide his uneasiness. "If it happens, it happens." His expression softened as he grew serious. "You matter more to me than all of that."

"But your career — "

"Means nothing if I have to worry about hiding all the time." His lips turned downwards in a slight frown. "But are you sure you're okay with this? I don't want you to agree because you think you have to."

You reached up to move his bangs away, staring into those deep brown eyes. "The more I think about it, the more I realize that there never will be a ‘right’ way to announce that we're dating. People will find out eventually, we've always known this. But I'd rather we do it on our own terms, and if it means announcing it sooner than expected, then I support your decision."

Baekhyun dove in to kiss you, the sweetest you had ever tasted. It was an apology, pouring all of his emotions into one simple kiss.

But above all, it was a promise — a promise that no matter what, everything would be alright.

Later that week, Baekhyun posted the announcement on the official fan app, a decision that had both of you wracked with nerves. As expected, there was a group of so-called fans who took no caution in typing up paragraphs of malicious statements online. But there were also fans who typed up sincere notes of congratulations. Even his Twitter mentions were overwhelmingly positive, something that you were extremely glad for.

What neither of you had been expecting were the unbelievable amount of album sales, along with charting at the top of multiple online streaming services. Baekhyun had stared open-mouthed at his phone, refreshing the page as if it were a trick. You could hardly believe it yourself. Baekhyun, your Baekhyun, had managed to break his own record as South Korea's best-selling solo artist.

All with the support of genuine fans who had stuck by him.

"Congratulations, love." You kissed his cheek with a giggle, pushing his mouth closed as he continued to stare at his phone.

"This can't be real," he gaped, even as message after message flooded his screen: congratulations from fans, friends, family, co-workers.

"You deserve this, Baek. I'm so proud of you."

Baekhyun glanced up from his phone, gaze full of admiration. "Thank you, baby," he said sweetly, leaning down to rest his head against your shoulder. The following days were filled with schedules: radio show appearances, filming for TV shows that Baekhyun couldn't talk about yet, live broadcasts. It was difficult to watch the occasional hateful comment pop up online here and there, but you reminded yourself that the majority of reactions were supportive.

When Baekhyun had his first comeback performance, you had been so nervous — even more than Baekhyun! You couldn't make it to the live show, too busy with internship hours, but you had texted your boyfriend every so often. Besides, you got to watch the clips with him at home, praising his work as he blushed beside you.

A few days later, you finally got to go support him in person. You'd be stuck in class for pre-recording, but you would be able to make it for the last bit of the actual show.

You had secretly been texting Baekhyun's manager, figuring out when and how would be the best way for you to enter the broadcasting studio unnoticed. Fans still screamed for Baekhyun every time they saw him going from one schedule to another, but you were afraid of the reaction you'd get if they realized who you were. Your one saving grace was that they didn't even know what you looked like.

Since Baekhyun's manager was too recognizable, another staff member came outside when you parked in the lot, ready to escort you in. A hat pulled down low obscured most of your face, a mask covering the bottom half.

You held your breath as you followed the staff member past the throngs of fans, not making eye-contact with any of them. Although you could hear some of them talking amongst each other, they all seemed to be watching the music broadcast on their phones. If anyone noticed you, they didn’t say anything.

Once you were inside and out of sight, you pulled your mask down. God, your heart felt like it was about to leap up and out of your throat with the way it was beating.

The staff member led you through the hallways, passing by other artists' waiting rooms. You read each sign, starstruck by the amount of celebrities all in one area. People moved about, loud voices and raucous laughter drifting out from open doors. You could even hear the live broadcast being played from TVs as you passed by.

All of a sudden, the staff member was stopping before one room, the door slightly open.

Baekhyun's.

"Thank you," you told them, the staff member looking you over curiously before nodding and walking away.

You peered in, a grin pulling at your lips when you recognized a few voices. Inside, you spotted Baekhyun’s manager and what seemed like hair and makeup staff. But you also saw a few of the other EXO members: Sehun's lean form seated in a chair, Chanyeol and Jongin seated side-by-side on a couch, and wait — was that Jongdae?

Knocking on the door, you pushed it open slowly. "Hi," you greeted.

Sehun was the first to glance over, face brightening when he realized who it was. "Y/N! How'd you get in?" The room was a mess of overlapping voices, the members talking over one another. You were over the moon to realize the fourth member was Jongdae, thankfully looking healthy and happy. But one person was missing.

"Where's Baekhyun?" you asked.

"Ah, he's doing his interview," Jongdae replied. "His performance should be coming up soon."

You turned to look at the TV screen where sure enough, Baekhyun was being interviewed by the show hosts. You smiled unconsciously, appreciatively taking in his combed-back hair, the way that his white hoodie and red jacket combo only made him look even younger.

"Come sit down," Jongdae said, patting the open spot beside him. You gladly say down, both of you quickly catching each other up on anything new. Jongdae even showed you pictures of his newborn daughter, both of you fawning over the petite baby.

"She's adorable, Dae."

Jongdae smiled a kittenish grin, about to speak when Chanyeol let out a loud yell. The taller man had been playing a mobile game, and he slumped back against the couch as his phone dropped to his side.

"Use your words, Chanyeol," Jongin said with a chuckle.

"I can't beat the level on this game! I give up, my thumbs are about to fall off." He sat up, taking his hat off and putting it on backwards.

The door to the waiting room opened, a blur of red entering before you realized who it was. You and Baekhyun noticed each other at the same time, his droopy eyes growing bigger before he rushed over to you.

Baekhyun swept you up into a hug before remembering where you were, a pink flush spreading over his face. "Babe, how'd you get here? How long have you been here?"

"I came as soon as classes ended, I've been texting your manager all day." You ran a thumb over his eyes, tracing the shadows that were barely noticeable there. "Baek, you look tired."

"I've been up since dawn," he whined. "But I missed doing performances." He nodded towards the monitor with a grin. "You came just in time. They're going to play my performance after this once, but I have to head to the main stage for the voting results."

Baekhyun's gaze flickered over to a table close by, a knowing smile growing on his face. "I was going to vlog today, for Kyoongtube. The rest of the members are going to show up on stage if I win this week, do you want to come up too?" He seemed to sense your hesitation, hands closing over yours. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I'm just worried about people seeing my face," you admitted. "Is it okay if I wait here until you get back?"

"Of course," Baekhyun replied quickly. "I'll be back as soon as I can, and then we can go get something to eat. Do you have anything due tomorrow?"

"Nothing that I can't get done tonight."

Baekhyun grinned proudly. "Such a smartie." He looked back up at the TV screen as his performance began to play. "That's my cue."

"Go, I'll be here." Both of you were self-conscious about PDA in this room full of members and staff, but Baekhyun still brought his lips to yours in a quick kiss. He laughed when he moved back, enjoying the shocked expression on your face.

"I love you," he mouthed, only for the two of you to hear.

"I love you too," you whispered back, face growing warmer by the second. Baekhyun squeezed your hands before letting go, already looking much more awake than when he had come in. Your presence had done more for him than any amount of Americanos could have, instantly waking him up with only a smile from you.

As you watched him leave, you were struck by the reality of it all. Here you were, supporting your boyfriend instead of quietly at home like you had been for the past few years. It hd taken time, and a huge leap of faith, but you hadn't done it alone.

Your focus had always been on the future, on predicting anything that could go wrong and taking the necessary steps to avoid them. But with Baekhyun, you were learning that sometimes, there wasn't a perfect way to avoid trouble. Sometimes, the answers weren't so clear cut, and you would have to take risks before you knew if they were worth it in the end. It was easy to give into fears of what lay ahead, to be overwhelmed by the unknown.

But you weren't alone. Baekhyun was your number one supporter, and you knew that you could rely on him no matter what happened. The two of you had already gone through so much, been there for each other countless times.

With Baekhyun, you would never be lost.

A/N: these requests keep getting longer, and I just need to stop LOL. I started off with the entire fic just being them at the broadcasting station for the comeback performance, but I didn’t feel like I could get that whole going public/being stressed by school and baekhyun’s star status without the whole background scene. Also! I know nothing about nursing, and I was honestly trying to figure out how much specific detail to put in without getting things wrong haha (my google searches were literally “how to become a nurse”, “nursing in korea”, “what is it like in a nursing program”) so if any of the very brief mentions of nursing school are inaccurate I am very sorry 😂😂😂

#exo #baekhyun #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fanfic #exo scenario #exo fanfic #writings

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harperhug · 3 years ago

Link

In case the article gets paywalled:

What Good Is 'Raising Awareness?'

Just being educated about diseases isn't enough to make people healthier.

In 2010, a strange meme spread across Facebook. People’s feeds were suddenly filled with one-word statuses saying the name of a color, nothing more. And most of these posts were from women.

The women had received messages from their Facebook friends that were some variation on this, according to The Washington Post: "Some fun is going on ... just write the color of your bra in your status. Just the color, nothing else. It will be neat to see if this will spread the wings of breast cancer awareness. It will be fun to see how long it takes before people wonder why all the girls have a color in their status. Haha."

Oh, okay. It was for breast cancer awareness. Except, no, wait—how? The Susan G. Komen Foundation had nothing to do with it, though it did get them some Facebook fans, according to the Post story. It wasn’t clear at all who started it. There was no fundraising component to the campaign. And the posts weren’t informative at all. In fact, their whole point was to be mysterious. Maybe people asked their friends what they meant by just posting “beige” or “green lace” and then they had a meaningful conversation about breast-cancer screenings and risk factors, but I’d guess that happened rarely, if at all.

This incident is just one example of the nebulous phenomenon of “raising awareness” for diseases. Days, weeks, months are dedicated to the awareness of different health conditions, often without a clear definition of what “awareness” means, or what, exactly, is supposed to come of it.

Recommended Reading

According to a commentary published this month in the American Journal of Public Health, the United States has almost 200 official “health awareness days.” (The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services lists all national health observances on its website.) And that’s not counting all the unofficial ones, sponsored by organizations.

The paper was an attempt to begin to investigate whether awareness days actually improve people’s health. Jonathan Purtle, an assistant professor at Drexel University’s School of Public Health, teamed up with Leah Roman, a public-health consultant, to see whether awareness could even be quantified.

“We both kind of anecdotally observed that there seem to be more [awareness days] than ever,” Purtle says. “In public health, and in medicine, we’re putting more and more emphasis on evidence-based practices. Everything should be informed by science in some way. We asked ourselves, has anybody ever evaluated these things, do we know if they’re effective at all?”

The answer: Not many people have, and we really don’t.

Awareness days do seem to be on the rise, by at least a couple measures—the researchers found that more than 145 bills including the words “awareness day” have been introduced in U.S. Congress since 2005, a huge leap compared with previous years. Articles that reference "awareness day" in the PubMed database have followed a similar, but less extreme, upward trajectory.

Trends in Attention to Awareness Days in U.S. Congress and Health Science Literature

But most of the articles Purtle and Roman found in their search (which was just preliminary, not a systematic metareview) were editorials or commentaries announcing or discussing awareness days. Only five studies empirically evaluated the effects of an awareness day, “but the designs weren’t that rigorous,” Purtle says. The best one, according to Purtle, found that on “No Smoking Day” in the U.K., five times more people called a quit smoking hotline than the daily average. “But that was about it,” Purtle says.

So evidence really is lacking on what good these awareness days do.

Liz Feld, president of the nonprofit advocacy organization Autism Speaks, says she has seen results from World Autism Awareness Day, which was April 2, and Autism Awareness Month, which goes on for all of April. The organization has raised more than $10 million so far in April, more than 50,000 people registered on Autism Speaks’ website, and more than 18,000 buildings around the world illuminated with blue lights on April 2 as part of the “Light it Up Blue” campaign. A spokesperson also told me that “Light it Up Blue” was a trending topic on Facebook and Twitter on April 2.

The money is something concrete that came out of the awareness month, but what about the rest?

“One-third of people who live with autism are nonverbal,” Feld says. “The power of a global blue-light movement is very strong. On that day, that is the collective voice of the autism community. That’s a show of power. The blue lights are really a voice.”

Here, "awareness" seems to mean sending a message, getting attention, and getting people to talk about the issue, at the very least on social media. During the week of the most recent World AIDS Day, December 1, 2014, AIDS.gov got the most engagement and new followers of the entire year, Miguel Gomez, the director of AIDS.gov, told me in an email. Perhaps not coincidentally, the organization’s HIV Testing and Care Service Locator got nearly triple its average traffic on December 1.

Social-media activism gets a lot of criticism, some of it deserved, some of it less so. (There's even a somewhat pejorative term for it: slacktivism.) On one hand, it’s an easy way to reach a lot of people, and it often amplifies the voices of the marginalized. On the other hand, changing your profile picture for an awareness day (something Autism Speaks asked people to do for Light It Up Blue) might just be the smallest possible unit of support for a cause. If not backed up by money or deed, it’s little more than lip service. But lip service is not nothing—if enough people do it, it could help shift cultural norms, as Melanie Tannenbaum wrote in Scientific American, about people supporting marriage equality by making equals signs their profile pictures.

“Based on everything that we know about our brains and their bafflingly strong desires to fit in with the crowd, the best way to convince people that they should care about an issue and get involved in its advocacy isn’t to tell people what they should do—it’s to tell them what other people actually do,” Tannenbaum writes. “And you know what will accomplish that? That’s right. Everyone on Facebook making their opinions on the issue immediately, graphically, demonstrably obvious.”

With a controversial issue like marriage equality, enough equals signs on Facebook pages could send the message that this is a common cause to support, and just maybe, gather more support, in a snowball-rolling-down-a-hill sort of way. The thing is, though, that with diseases, everybody’s pretty much already on the same side. There aren’t pro-cancer people who need convincing to come around.

“The question I would ask Autism Speaks or someone who's doing some sort of initiative like ‘Make your picture blue,’ is how they think that will trickle down into some sort of positive outcome for people with autism,” Purtle says.

So I asked.

“First of all, anyone who takes the time to change their picture, they feel invested, like they’re part of something,” Feld says. “That’s the culture we live in now. It’s a way for them to participate. It creates a sense of a community, it really goes back to that. People like to be part of something, look at the ALS ice-bucket challenge. They wanted to be part of something that was bigger than themselves. It’s free, it makes you happy, it makes you feel like you're doing something.”

But Feld recognizes that this isn’t enough.

“You’ve got to follow it up with something else,” she says. “What comes with raising awareness is a responsibility to do something about what you’re aware of. I always say to people, ‘April 2nd is great but what happens April 3rd?’”

When so much is vying for people’s attention, especially online, including the couple hundred other awareness days, even if you get people to listen, how do you get them to do more than just post a status?

There is a sociological theory called narcotizing dysfunction, which proposes that the more people learn about an issue from the media, the less likely they are to do something about it. Purtle and Roman posit that this might be an unintended effect of awareness days, that people might “conflate being knowledgeable about a health issue with taking action to address it.” It’s not enough to just say “this is a problem, and we need to do something about it.” There are a lot of problems in the world that need doing something about.

So in addition to awareness-raising, to try to get people to do something, Autism Speaks fundraises and asks people to sign petitions. “[When we try] to get corporate sponsors, I always tell people here, you can’t just go pitch this as a moral imperative,” Feld says. “There are a lot of moral imperatives. An effective awareness day has got to give people a window into what a real person who's living with autism is going through. My goal is for people to see the face of someone with autism on Autism Awareness Day, so that they carry that with them on April 3rd, April 4th, April 5th.”

Awareness days wouldn’t be so popular if there weren’t an appetite to address health problems. “People want to do something, which is good,” Purtle says. What he worries is that awareness campaigns’ focus on the individual—what you need to know, what you can do—could reinforce existing troublesome ideas about the origins of health, especially with conditions like obesity and heart disease, where lifestyle is a big risk factor.

A lot of people believe, he says, that “it’s really people’s choices that determine their health outcomes and if they’re unhealthy it's either: 1. They made bad choices, or 2. They’re just unlucky and have some genetic thing. These awareness [days] seem to be reinforcing that if you’re aware of the health issue, it’s a good step, and it might be even sufficient to address the health issue. That really flies in the face of the complexity of the various forces that influence a person’s health and a population’s health.”

Those forces include environmental, societal, and economic factors—things that can’t be fixed with knowledge alone. “I think if more people understood that, perhaps we’d see awareness days looking a little bit different,” Purtle says. A better awareness day, he thinks, would spread information about the prevalence of a condition and its risk factors, as well as policy changes that could lessen disparities or help people living with the condition.

“Neither Leah nor I think awareness days are necessarily a bad thing, nor is awareness a bad thing,” Purtle says. “Awareness can be a first step toward changing behavior, but in my opinion, more importantly it would be a first step to positively address the policies that impact a population's health.”

#personal #important information #call to action

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jalebi-weds-bluetooth · 5 years ago

Text

10 Times Arnav Singh Raizada Crossed The Line (Part 2)

Read Part 1

This is the continuation of my analysis of my favorite television hero - Arnav Singh Raizada. A man who has as much as qualities as flaws. And my endless inspiration to writing a thousand words!

Recap: Arnav Singh Raizada is our perfect, tortured Mills & Boons hero. Sometimes it’s unfortunate when recent shows have aped his behavior and not the layered characterization that he had. However, sometimes (according to my own opinion) I felt that his character might have crossed the line. It’s moments where no explanations justify his behavior.

- Tearing the dori. - Arnav Singh Raizada does not apologize. - Blasting at Khushi for pranking, PRANKING him. - Telling Khushi her anklet, their almost kiss & she, does not matter. - Arnav Hypocrite Raizada - forcing an engaged Khushi to confess her feelings when he’s unable to do so.

Reminding Khushi of her broken engagement cause he can’t handle jealousy.

Manipulating & frightening Khushi with Akash & Payal’s divorce papers.

Telling Khushi he ‘faked’ his sickness to get rid of the ‘Swami’ tag.

Refusing to believe Khushi’s version of events.

Becoming Khushi’s landlord and blackmailing her (emotionally and financially) to get her to come back home.

Bonus

Telling Khushi that she does not have the brains, courage nor talent to face the real world.

#6 “Tumhara rishta? Hua tha... yaad hai na?”. (S5, E10)

“Your relationship? It happened... do you even remember that?” - A foot in mouth Arnav Singh Raizada.

First Reaction: How to lose a woman in ten seconds ft. Arnav Singh Raizada. Are you bloody serious? THIS… out of all the valid things you could have yelled at her for, HER BROKEN ENGAGEMENT is what you taunt her with?

What’s wrong with it:

Arnav arranges a party for Akash & Payal according to his own tastes. He never takes into account that his new sister in law might get intimidated in the new setting. This is a power move for Arnav and really not a party for Akash & Payal because nothing in the party is for them. From whatever we know about Akash, he is a quiet guy who enjoys little things in life - not necessarily wine and a cultural show. Payal feels left out. Akash’s discomfort is visible at the party as he keeps asking Payal if she’s comfortable.

Arnav literally has this party for himself, and he can’t party. In general, Arnav acts like an entitled dick for these two episodes. In the previous episode he makes it clear that he’s aware how Khushi might feel left out and does not invite her to the party for her own sister. He’s insensitive, callous and mocking (and surprised as to why NK and Khushi mix well?).

And I LOVE that Khushi and NK chose to hang out with each other because Arnav is almost pushing her away to another man by his ‘generous acts’. Like if these two were not soulmates and born for each other, I was a minute away from being “Yeah Khushi, I think you should date the other guy who is more sensitive to you even though he’s lived all his life in another country and knows you for like 48 hours.”

Quick note: I’m not all that aversive to NK & Khushi being a pair. Now wait a second, it might be like oh Khushi really pushes their families to think that she and NK go well together. Well… she and NK have an instant connect like no other - even in the future NK is almost always able to tell when Khushi is disturbed or when something happens that demeans Khushi’s worth in the house.

Also, imagine this, in the shoes of Akash - if I am Khushi’s friend and I’ve seen her go through a terrible engagement, incessant insults from my older cousin, and then I see her connect with my younger cousin who actually makes Khushi smile and laugh all the time…

I don’t think it's a mystery that I’ll ship her with a man who can make her smile. And no wonder why the Sangeet performance stuns everyone. Anjali & Akash more than anyone else (because I think they were the only ones who thought there was something else between Arnav & Khushi and they put that thought in the backburner until they see that shit… whatever it was has simmered all along).

Track Rewrite:

I’m just realising that I don’t have many track rewrite ideas for most of the foot-in-mouth situations of ASR. The dialogue that Khushi, here, says is amazing. She literally replies to him, word for word, and makes him see his own hypocrisy and also highlights that he’s furious about something else - that he does not want to accept, as usual.

She states, in between lines, that she has given up reading his mind and trying to be gentle to him when he, frankly, doesn’t deserve that treatment. If anything, their sangeet rivalry and the win-lose situation just gets to my nerves at one point.

Head-canon:

NK openly flirts with Khushi more on seeing how interested Nannav is with Khushi. NK never regards Khushi as his sister-in-law, for him Khushi always remains as his best friend and as the woman he understands best which he not-so-lightly rubs against Nannav’s face every now and then. He truly loves Khushi, but as a friend. It’s a pure, true friendship between Khushi and NK.

Public Service Announcement:

Before planning a party please make sure you have a survey on what the people actually want in the party, especially if it's hosted for them. A party is not a party if you’re the only one enjoying it.

#7 “It is so sad Khushi, ki Akash ka phone mere paas hai.” (S6, E19-21)

“It is so Khushi, that I have Akash’s phone with me.” Arnav, holding Akash’s phone while Khushi frantically dials Akash to ask if he knowingly signed the divorce papers, and make him aware of the same. Arnav makes Khushi think it’s Akash’s divorce papers - Akash actually signed some random office papers.

First Reaction: I know the context of everything but that was a low blow. I KNOW ARNAV DOESN’T KNOW HIS KHUSHI BABY IS INNOCENT but somehow this part is tough to digest.

What’s wrong with it:

Abuse of power - as simple as that. Of course we’re all immediately swayed to Khushi’s feelings because we know she’s an innocent bub. But to Arnav she’s the woman who’s breaking his sister’s house so he probably feels justified in torturing her with the idea of breaking her sister’s house. I get it, it’s a tit for tat situation.

But if we’re thinking deeply, this is not just an average argument that they always have - Khushi literally is going through a mental breakdown to stop Payal. This could have easily gone out of hand. Just saying.

Track Rewrite:

A necessary evil to establish the tighthold Arnav has on Khushi regarding the marriage. I don’t appreciate the immediate comedy, romance or smugness that follows. The scenes are great - individually. But BUT BUT I feel this event would trigger a more serious reaction from Khushi because she has always been very serious when it’s about her sister.

If I had to rewrite this, everything happens the way it is but instead of the childish thing of her jumping into the pool (I know she’s childish but we have infinite opportunities in the future to prove that), she would grow very serious and threaten Arnav to never, ever touch her sister’s marriage.

I would assume she would become very serious for a few days, and then resume to her usual antics. Arnav’s anger is well justified - on one hand Khushi has the galls to threaten him about her sister’s marriage when she’s breaking his, on the other hand he also would never do any damage to Akash’s marriage.

Head-canon:

Bua ji, for as much as she’s crossed with Khushi, actually had a wedding trousseau for Khushi (she starts wearing all the anarkalis and salwar kameez post this trip to Gupta House). There’s actually a very emotional moment between Khushi and Bua ji where Bua ji tells her she bought new clothes for Khushi when they were buying things for Payal.

So yeah, just an emotional, almost mother-daughter bond between Khushi and Bua ji where the latter expresses her disappointment in the way Khushi married but also loves her beyond everything.

Here Bua ji says that she’s upset with Khushi because she’s their own, if not she won’t have even bothered. Also, Garima and Bua ji have a talk in between where they miss Khushi immensely and find it difficult to live in a house without the two daughters.

Garima and Bua ji have a mature talk, as adults, wondering if what Khushi did was a return to what they did to Khushi and then they receive Anjali’s call to attend Holi.

Public Service Announcement:

Don’t manipulate! Also, always check with your spouse for any assumptions you might have against them :) Communication is key. For more enquiries about relationship troubles regarding assumed infidelity or hiding secrets - contact Dr. Jalebi S, your own sweet relationship expert. But yes, don’t hide stuff from your partner if it involves their family and DON’T MANIPULATE AND PLAY MIND GAMES!

#8 “Kitna bhi jaan lo, kabhi kabhi kisi ko pehchaan na bohot mushkil ho jaata hai. Kal raat mujhe kuch bhi nahi hua tha. Main bilkul theek tha.” (S6, E46)

“Irrespective of how much you know someone, sometimes it can get very difficult to (truly) recognize someone. Last night, nothing happened to me. I was absolutely fine.” Arnav Irony Singh Raizada. Doesn’t the first line apply to himself too? He thinks he knows her, but he does NOT.

First Reaction: YOU SON OF A BACHELOR! YOU WERE NOT NOT SICK!

What’s wrong with it:

I don’t like how Arnav’ perennially pissed with Khushi the minute he got up. Pfft, Khushi’s beautiful and seeing her wonderful face in the morning was a great moment for a Rabba Ve moment because of the sweet Rabba Ve they had the night before! I love Arnav’s discomfort in knowing how Khushi took care of him while he was asleep, while no one was there to watch. Because for him, it was crossing borders on what their marriage was beginning to seem.

And then the whole I was not sick, bleh, and then Anjali (I love her, wonderful woman) but for the life of me I couldn’t understand what in the world she was trying to explain. Because really, no way had Arnav lied to Khushi to make her feel better/less guilty.

Rather he was belittling and mocking her efforts.

There’s one thing about hiding intentions, there’s another about forcing and painting someone’s actions in a romantic light - that’s not right.

Arnav is a master at hiding his intentions. Whenever he yells at Khushi where she’s gone - it means he’s worried. When he tells Khushi he doesn’t need her help - well he actually needs it. When he’s ignoring her - he wants her to stop ignoring him, etc.

So we know Arnav when he hides intentions. Hence I felt the Anjali-Arnav scene was forcing the viewers to sympathize with Arnav and be like heh, he did that to make Khushi feel less guilty. I anyways sympathize with Arnav given the battle he’s facing internally... so this one scene felt odd.

Quick note: I have a love-hate relationship with Khushi eating all the food scenes and embarrassing him in his office with wifey behavior. Also, Arnav has a very telling body language when he lies - he speaks very fast, and does not meet her eyes and in many cases, physically turns away from her while speaking.

Track Rewrite:

Just… let’s put the wonderful Anjali/Arnav moment somewhere else in the story where Anjali notices Arnav actually lying to make Khushi feel better. Cause Anjali does hit the nail in stating that her brother never reveals what he feels.

Also, I love the entire Gupta House adventure that they have but there’s a part of me that wished it happened at another time.

Like if it happened at the time it did, then oh God please change what triggers the marriage reveal.

Otherwise the entire thing can happen when Arnav decides to stay in Gupta house cause Khushi won’t be coming to Raizada house (post his great “You’re the biggest mistake of my life Khushi”). In a way it would be hilarious that Arnav is trying to win Khushi back but also is facing extreme discomfort at the lack of luxury he’s become used to - classic ASR.

And probably Khushi suffocates him with a recall to the ‘Swami’ track and makes his life a living hell in her house. Made for each other that they are.

Head-canon:

Arnav and Khushi get used to and look forward to having meals together. Arnav, rarely, eats alone ever again. It’s a development Nani and Anjali are very happy to see.

Public Service Announcement:

Don’t eat all food if you have a diabetic partner. Also, don’t try to understand everything your sibling does - try questioning them instead of justifying. Try drinking coffee instead of tea if you’ve been awake all night <3

#9 “Tumhe kya lagta hai, agar tum uss raat mujhe bata deti toh kya main aankhein band karke tumpe vishwaas kar leta?” (S7, E15-17)

“What do you think, if you told me your truth that night then I would’ve believed you without a doubt?” Arnav, to Khushi, after she’s told her side of the misunderstanding. And with that, every fan’s highest hopes dashed and worst dreams came true.

First Reaction: NO ARNAV DON’T… NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

What’s wrong with it:

He refuses to believe her. He has a choice, he has heard both sides of the story. And he refuses to believe it. But my biggest problem - Khushi pretends she has no idea what moment he’s referring to?

Girl, you’ve been forcefully hugged by Shyam only once in your life and until and unless you’re amnesiac you would remember that traumatic moment. I am just so upset that Khushi does nothing nor says anything concrete when he says he doesn’t believe her. She doesn’t say Shyam molested her.

She puts it on Arnav. That what he knows isn’t true. That he doesn’t deserve the truth, which is a good argument but state more! Then she goes silent *argh*

Her argument starts strong, but ends up terribly. She just ends up saying all the things that don’t matter!

Track Rewrite:

Khushi should have told why she went to the terrace that night. That she thought it was he who asked her to come up. That Shyam harassed her. That Shyam has continuously harassed her. That Arnav’s not the only one who threatened the safety of Payal’s marriage - Shyam threatened it too.

No matter what Khushi did, somehow Payal’s marriage always ends up on the line. If she tells, Payal’s marriage is threatened by Shyam and because she didn’t, Payal’s marriage was threatened by Arnav.

ALSO KHUSHI APOLOGISES FOR HIDING THE TRUTH!

It should’ve been a clash of their ideologies, their personalities, her heartbreak over the fact that he doesn’t know she loves him, his disbelief that the truth is too good to be true (and essentially confusion because if Khushi loved him all along then it meant that he misunderstood her all along and he’s not great at seeing his own mistakes). She would’ve been too angry to make amends - not until she realizes he’s leaving for London and his mistake doesn’t matter.

Here’s a fic that I wrote that covers this.

Head-canon:

Akash and Payal are the only ones who later get to know the entire thing as this topic affected both the marriages deeply. Nani also knows, but of course not the part that he forced her to marry for six months by threatening Payal’s marriage.

Public Service Announcement:

Lies rarely do good. And be careful to analyze any traumatic event from all angles! What’s visible is not what happens and what happens is not visible!

#10 “Khushi, tum kiraya kamkarwana chahti ho? Toh tumhe mere saath ghar aana parega.” “Nahi.” “Okay, mere paas koi choice nahi hai. Mujhe tumhara ghar girwana parega.” (S8, E21-22)

“Khushi you want to reduce your rent? Then you to need to come home with me.” “No.” “Okay, then I have no other choice. I will have to tear down your house.” - Arnav to Khushi. The most inappropriate sentence anyone can tell to another. Given that they are husband and wife, it’s even worse.

Quick note on the photos: Khushi Kumari Gupta, not believing the man she married in all three scenes. Arnav Singh Raizada, lying in all three scenes.

First Reaction:

Everybody… yeah… don’t really rock your body… yeah… Stupid. Singh. Raizada’s. Back!

Oh my God stupid Raizada is back again! Brothers sisters everybody’s sayin’…. Not really gonna bring Khushi back nor gonna show anyone anything how… *continues butchering Backstreet’s Back* I gotta question for you (yes I do ASR so) you better answer now..

Are you original? Yeah

Are you the only one? For Khushi, yeah

Are you sexual? Very, but that’s not helping… Noooo

Are you everything Khushi needs - Yes but you need to shut up.

Are you - SHUT UP AND SAY SORRY

AND MEAN IT IF YOU’RE SAYING SORRY - IN FORTY EIGHT HOURS YOU SAID SHE’S THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF HER LIFE, APOLOGISED AND FOLLOWED IT UP BY THREATENING PAYAL’S MARRIAGE, MADE HER WORK FOR YOU AND BOUGHT THE HOUSE SO YOU COULD HIKE THE HOUSE FEES AND THEN LITERALLY TOLD HER YOU CAN DRAG HER OUT OF THE HOUSE… and you think she’ll come back?

DUDE, what are you smoking?

What’s wrong with it:

Boy… no. No. Ask NK, Nani, Payal or even Lakshmi (talk with the people who understand Khushi!) on how to appease Khushi. A part of me was really upset with this track cause although I understand that Arnav is never really gonna do a full blown redemption and they need to stay true to his character, I didn’t see how ANY of his actions would get Khushi back…

It’s not wrong that he was upset at Khushi for visiting Anjali - even I was! Like seriously, Khushi, despite her best intentions, really does make the biggest mistakes! However, implying that Khushi’s existence is the reason why Shyam cheated Anjali was shit. On top of that he calls his marriage a contract, blackmails her about Payal, is unable to wish her a happy birthday, becomes her landlord and stops all utilities (hence now blackmailing her using her family) to get her back?

I don’t see the sense. I try really hard and I’m team Arnav but for me him becoming her landlord was just flexing his money and power. It was a low blow, and it’s really not funny how he keeps threatening the peace of her family but get’s pissed off when Khushi, unintentionally, disturbs his family.

It does not matter that Arnav would essentially not carry on with his threat, to Khushi he would and that’s what matters (cuts off electricity and water to prove his point and it does cause inconvenience her family). It’s just a very unhealthy atmosphere over here. The little moments are great, independently, but apart from that I just found this to be a very troubling scene.

Track Rewrite:

Oh I have a lot, LOT of theories for this one:

- Khushi first thinks Arnav has bought the house from her landlord so as to stop the harassment and Arnav is guilty AF because he didn’t expect that. Bua ji enters right when Arnav talks about the truth of the marriage. She hears everything, and asks Arnav to leave her house, forever. She goes all ‘Haye Re Nandkishore’ on him. DRAMA. #BuajiRoxx

- Landlord shit doesn’t happen. Khushi leaves the house, Arnav decides to stay at her house since she isn’t going back to Shantivan with the promise to reminisce all the sweetest moments she shared. Khushi kills him with the ‘Swami’ shit, again, and Arnav ends up being irritated due to lack of adjustment but also does everything possible to get Khushi back. They have their Rabba Ves and then he brings her back and gives her the sweet gifts.

- She returns home (just like in canon) but distances herself from all the Raizadas (and does not jump into making Raksha Bandhan celebration - ugh, women are not always obligated to keep their sasuraal happy)! For a few days she becomes just like Arnav - unemotional, unaffected, orderly and unexpressive. Akash, having repaired his relationship with Payal and hence having gained a deeper insight, helps Arnav overcome his marriage issues.

Head-canon:

Khushi and Arnav have a conversation where she asks him when, where and why did he transfer the house’s papers to her name. It’s an important and tender moment. Arnav gradually comes to know Khushi married him more because it was he who proposed marriage. Khushi gradually comes to know that Arnav, never, would threaten Akash-Payal’s marriage.

Did she accidentally come across the ‘office’ papers that Akash had signed? Did Arnav actually play a role in smoothening Akash-Payal’s relationship post the Shyam reveal - anything on those lines.

Public Service Announcement:

IF YOUR PARTNER ISN’T COMING BACK HOME AND YOU THINK BLACKMAIL IS A SOLUTION THEN MESSAGE DR. JALEBI/S IMMEDIATELY. YOU NEED HELP. At this point, irrespective of star crossed pyaar, I’d 9/10 recommend separation, break, counseling.

Bonus

"No you can’t. Kyunki asal zindagi main guzara karne ke liye paise chahiye hote hai. Aur paise kamane ke liye akal chahiye hoti hai. Himmat aur confidence chahiye hote hai puri duniya ka saamna karne ke liye. Apne sapne pure karne ke liye. Aur tumhe inn sab main se kuch bhi nahi hai.” (S11, E2)

“No you can’t [face the world on your own]. Because to face the real world you need need. And to earn money you need intelligence. You need bravery and confidence to face the whole whole. To fulfill your dreams. And you have none of these.” Arnav, to Khushi. The moment when Arnav forgot that Khushi was the sole breadwinner of the Gupta’s and Khushi forgot that Arnav is a multimillionaire.

First Reaction: WHAT ARE THE WRITERS DOING? WHAT IS THE CHANNEL DOING? WHAT IS ARNAV DOING? THIS LEADS TO A FASHION SHOW INSTEAD OF AN ACTUAL CHAT - WHAT IS KHUHSI DOING? WHAT AM I DOING??!! Should I stop watching the show?

What’s wrong with it:

I really liked Arnav and Khushi’s difference of opinion when it came to raising Aarav - not where she is being stupid and asking to burst crackers (she is retracting on so many of her characteristics right now I can’t keep a track). I did not like the second half of the argument because it really took the characters several notches down on their growth/development.

I really liked Khushi stating to Arnav that - hey, buying happiness with money can work with adults but terribly spoil children. But then what followed, without a hint of apology, into an embarrassing and terrible Fashion Pageant that completely missed the point of this argument!

Neither parent thinks it’s important to sit and have a calm chat with Aarav. Arnav is a ‘yes’ man around him. Khushi is there to heap the values instilled on her. Is anyone trying to make Aarav understand, no? And Arnav’s evident lack of respect for Khushi will translate to Aarav.

They’re both bad at parenting and this could have been a really nice track that they could have wrapped up in a few episodes but no.

Aarav never learns. Arnav gives a half assed dialogue about ‘oh I know Khushi you’re talented’ and Khushi spends the next 10 days behaving like an 8 year old, not chatting up with Aarav about behavior issues, and thinks winning a Fashion Pageant is being courageous, talented, determined and independent.

*throws head on wall*

Track Rewrite:

Oh I HAVE TONS but I’ll explain my favorite one. First of all, I’ll let that argument be because it is natural that this is where Arnav and Khushi might conflict. But instead of Khushi’s childish sulking that puts Arnav into a ‘oh let’s make her jealous, call her to office, appease her by some shitty ASR plan and probably apologise somewhere’ and Khushi going all ‘haww, he called me brainless, now I’ll prove so by stupidly acting like a kid in his coat’-

Arnav and Khushi stand still when they realise he has crossed a line and he storms off, leaving a very quiet Khushi alone. They both walk on eggshells, neither’s ego letting the argument down. It seriously hampers their relationship. They just don’t speak and anything small leads to a big argument.

Khushi spends an enormous amount of time in her catering service in an attempt to prove herself, becoming a bit crazy behind earning money which makes her off character. Arnav throws himself in office, and is almost happy when he realizes Khushi’s catering service does not earn even half of his monthly profit, annually. A competitive streak drives a wedge between them. This goes on - that troubles the entire family, and stops until Aarav misbehaves with Anjali.

This breaks the ice wall between Arnav and Khushi, draws them out of their workaholic spheres. Bua ji, Payal, NK reprimand Khushi for being absent in raising Aarav, her obsession to make Aarav religious and traditional without making him understand the reason of the values and above all, competitive with her husband that she grandly declared she can’t live without. Mami, Nani, Akash reprimand Arnav for pretty much the same.

When Arnav and Khushi talk to Anjali, she again reprimands the both of them in terms of parenting, marriage and the coexistence of both. Arnav cannot buy upbringing, manners, ethics, respect and character through money. Khushi cannot instill goodness, kindness, generosity and honesty by piling beliefs of the Lord. If that was the case then her husband - who would get all the money he needed from Arnav, and believed in all the Gods - would be a good man.

Arnav and Khushi talk to their son, together, to figure out his actual problem of fitting in. Aarav is surprised to learn both his parents were orphans. He truly bonds with them after getting through his adjustment fears and issues. In teaching Aarav, Arnav and Khushi realise what truly matters - their love. And that they had forgotten how similar they were.

With Aarav they have met another person who is just like them - alone, afraid, orphaned and lonely who’s standing at the same point in life where he either turns himself into a man with absolute belief or none at all. And with parents who have faced the extremes of fates, Aarav might just have the perfect upbringing.

Hence, Arnav and Khushi patch up with an emotional, tear jerking hug. They end up recounting each other’s stories and realize how far they’ve come along. They never had a name for their love and after all the hatred, denial, lust, acceptance, confession, purity, marriage and parenthood - no one name’s going to fit either.

Head-canon:

Aarav, although behaviorally like his father, grows up to be a complete Mumma’s boy. If anyone thought Arnav is super protective about Khushi, well Aarav is ten times more protective about his mother. Also, internally Aarav is a big fan of Hindi cinema, loves sweets and has the most outrageous dance moves. But he’s also an introvert so he would kill anyone who pointed out on those.

Public Service Announcement:

Adopt children when you are ready. Having a child can take toll on a marriage so COMMUNICATE - COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR SPOUSE, YOUR CHILD AND YOUR SUPPORT SYSTEM!

Phew, this is the end of this post and I sincerely hope you liked it! Feel free to send your thoughts through asks/notes/etc.

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #Arnav Singh Raizada #tv analysis #analysis #character analysis

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writingwitheli · 4 years ago

Text

GrandMech

Most mechs were hard to function, even with experienced pilots.

They didn't move like people do, the mechanics don't really allow for that. You have to know the engineering intimately to clearly envision how the thing was going to react to your direction. Most pilots spend months learning their piece before going into the field. There were simulators, and for a while the board argued for mechs to be built in a uniform manner for faster learning.

But technology went a bit too fast for that. And the things were way too expensive to mass produce.

Grandma Katersfield knew this well. It was her life's work.

I mean she wasn't my grandma. But she kinda was. She was everyone's grandma, in a way. Most mechs these days still have her work in them, even if there were scraps rebuild around it. Some people called it practical. Pilots called it good luck. The engineers called it "Finally someone who knows what they're fucking doing."

When she passed away, in her garage (had she ever existed anywhere else?), the military held a funeral. Most of the planets held a funeral. The board, somewhere in their core-planet bunkers, held a meeting.

The war wasn't over, and we weren't winning. And we'd just lost our best engineer. It was a big fucking hit for morale. There were losses everywhere.

Presumably after sending a swarm of government drones through the property, the board very quickly touted "Katersfield's Final Work", and "The culmination of everything she's ever done". Some people pointed out the public images that showed how the thing was half-done. But enough people wanted hope that everyone gradually bought into the idea.

The board appointed Katersfield's daughter to lead the finalization of the thing. Ann wasn't exactly an engineer, but they knew how the public would read it. They gave her a team of their best to work with.

When construction was nearly done, the board officially announced that Katersfield's son-in-law would be piloting it. Everyone expected it; he was the only striped pilot in the family. But it hit the top of everyone's news anyways.

The public test run was expected to be simple, and broadcasted live as far as the outer-space colonies.

It… didn't go so well.

Okay, it went very badly.

I mean.

Bad.

What followed was a lot of media confusion. The board hastily tried to put the blame on over-eagerness. People were fired. We lost four moons while our squadrons re-evaluated their lives.

Mark and his husband, Will Katersfield, had a very public divorce. Some people argue it was the media pressure. Some people suspect that the board forced them apart. I think it was a long time coming.

For a while the board pushed forward other candidates. They ran competitions for new mech designers and engineers and electricians. Offered an absurd amount of money and resources. A lot of cool stuff came out of it, but nothing really compares to Katersfield's work.

It was three years after that when media went into a frenzy over a low-grade video of the mech doing cartwheels over the family farm. Fucking cartwheels, man. I can't even do those in my own body most days.

Every news ship went down there as quick as they could. A bunch of civilians, too. Granny says a board member actually showed up in person.

Everyone was immediately on Ann about it. She was the only one that really stayed on the farm. She knew the machinery well enough. And maybe she'd inherited the pilot skills of one of Katersfield's late spouses.

To the dismay of the board, Ann insisted that the pilot was Thoma, one of Will's children. The media went ballistic. Kids weren't even supposed to be piloting mechs in the first place.

Thoma gave an interview to their school teacher and described the sensation of piloting upside down as "even better than going all the way around the bar on a swing and then having Grandma's cookies with two scoops of ice cream!" Their wide grin with missing teeth was eventually made into metal-cards for soldiers to attach under their breast plates and remind them of home.

At some point, Ann made the mistake of admitting that she'd taken it out for a test-run while she was tuning up some joints (she hadn't been an engineer when this started. But things change).

The board came down hard. They publicly announced that Ann was the cartwheeling pilot, and further that she'd accepted a high raking military title with absurd honors and enough pay to buy a moon. They posted a date with a public countdown clock for her departure to the front lines.

Now the way Granny tells it; Ann didn't know about any of this until her neighbor came by with the milk and a congratulations. Granny would probably piss on the board if she still could. Don't let her try it.

Ann did go. She didn't have many options, really. Her bio-logs phrase the situation as "the board made a decision. I complied."

We pushed back the front by two whole planets. Ann wasn't much of a pilot; she spent too much time thinking, but the war pushed around her. Most of the time it only took a three second clip of her unnaturally smooth landing and quick gravity adjustment to a new planet. My old mech would take two minutes to land and readjust. A lot can happen in two minutes.

The official report says Ann died on Mitas 9. The board will probably censor this whole damn thing if I try to explain what happened, but just remember that official reports are. Well. Official.

The mech was commandeered immediately. They cleaned it up, threw on a new coat of paint, and put their highest ranking pilot in the hotseat.

Everyone was in a hurry to get back to it and have a plan ready before Ann's death was publicly announced. Yeru knew the schematics by heart and spent one month living with the mech every hour of every day to make up for lost time. The board went as far as making them legally exempt from standard reports. Yeru's bios were never made public, but you can pull them from the military archives in Section B. They clearly knew their way around a mech, and honestly seemed to be a good person as far as I can tell.

The board had seemingly learned from prior incidents. The Generals hosted a secluded military showing of the first test-run. Those archives are probably deleted, but all you really need to know is that Yeru never made it off the ground.

For a few months, the military looked into sabotage. Yeru's bio-post about the joints being "just plain creaky no matter how much I oil the thing" convinced a bunch of higher-ups that the mech had been swapped out or something.

I know. Creating a whole fake mech to replace it with? Somehow managing to swap the thing out with as much board, military, and media surveillance as it has? Absurd.

Also I'm sure you're well aware that plenty of good mechs have creaky joints. I hear you ran Sacrifice 2 for a while there. Lt. Jen complained about how loud that thing was for months after he shared a hangar with it near Osylus. Not sure if that was your time or not. I'm going to tell him it was, so he'll have something to complain to you about. When he does, ask him about the wardrobe cloning incident. I'm sure he'll know what you're talking about.

Anyways.

The news about Ann went public, and the board pushed it down the feeds with reports about a new Stealth Carrier that would move faster than a pilot-ship. It did. Everyone loved it. I'm sure it's shit compared to the last carrier you were on.

Thoma, meanwhile, had grown up and gotten their way through military school. It might seem strange to you now, but Thoma actually didn't touch a mech the first decade of their service. They had a few friends and plenty worshipers, but still hadn't officially earned enough stripes to be a pilot. The Generals wanted to make sure Thoma was knocked down enough to keep from getting big-headed about it. But Thoma didn't really care.

Thoma fought hard and studied harder. They proved themselves again and again. You can look up the public records of their medal-acceptance speeches. Every damn time they would say "This is a great honor. Can I trade it in for a mech?"

Pissed a lot of people off, but it was fucking hilarious if you ask me.

Eventually Thoma led a fairly large squadron and took a half a continent in a week. When I asked them about it, they said they had sent a text message to the Generals saying "I could've gotten all of it, if I had my own mech :,(". I know them well enough to know they probably actually sent a frowny-face emoji to the Generals. Don't do that. It's hilarious. But, Don't.

Probably.

For now, anyways.

The board reluctantly let Thoma break the mech out of some museum somewhere as a reward for their service. They weren't intending for Thoma to actually run as a pilot since Thoma had already gotten to be in charge of things. It would be a media mess, at best, a military loss at worst.

Thoma did a fucking backflip over live media.

Anyways the board and the Generals argued about it for a week, but eventually did the only thing they could do. They made Thoma a pilot. There were lots of assurances that Thoma would still be holding their responsibilities as Planetary Sergeant. No one cared. Thoma had done a fucking backflip; the Katersfields were at it again.

I'm told that week of debate consisted of at least fifteen other pilots trying the mech out and reporting up failures of various kinds. Don't worry about that, you'll do fine.

I'm sure you know most of the story from there. Thoma took Belet 5 through Belet 11, and some other smaller planets along the way. Majestic. War hero. Idol. Etc etc.

The board immediately pushed Thoma’s son, Madene, into the military and straight into pilot's school. They make a lot of dumb decisions, but even the board could see the pattern here.

You might not have read this about me, but I used to be an electrician. I worked on Thoma's team for a while. The Generals gave Madene special permission to visit us sometimes so he could learn the mech hands-on. He'd always wanted to be an artist or a planetary refurbisher. That was clear from the first day we met.

I'll tell you this now, it's not part of public record: Madene ran the mech just fine when it was just us around. Thoma would give some long drawn-out speech about minding your manners and being careful with her. It was their Grandmother's soul in that machine, after all. Madene didn't really listen, but the mech ran just fine anyways.

When Madene was nearing graduation, the Generals sent their scouts around to see how things were going. The mech ran straight into their drones and fell convulsing onto the ground.

It was a hard time for a while, Thoma was upset with Madene and Madene was embarrassed. There were lots of arguments, and the Generals tried to pretend Madene just didn't have enough experience as a pilot. The idea that Madene did it on purpose didn't get recorded, but it's what a lot of people assumed. I don't think that's what happened, anyways.

Madene tried really hard after that. He pushed himself in school, and as a result they let him try out a bunch of other mechs. He proved he could handle it just as well as some of our better pilots. He took Entrapment marching around the school-system planet four times.

Thoma tore their knee in a pretty brutal fight, and since they were nearing retirement anyways the board arranged for a public hand-off of the mech.

I used to talk to her when I worked. My old pilot - the one I worked electricity for before Thoma - had always been superstitious about this sort've thing. She used to spend a good half-hour reassuring it before she's let me do any work on it. I guess I'd picked up the habit. You might want to pick it up, too, if you haven't already.

I'd asked her to help Madene out. He'd worked so hard and I could tell Thoma was slowing down.

You might have seen the media of that. Afterward Madene was particularly… verbal. Even if you didn't see that, I'm sure you heard about what happened to him after. Don't be too harsh on him, it's really not his fault. We were all too hard on him.

All the media says the Generals did a lot of research and realized I was better suited as a pilot and they shifted me over. How that actually happened was… well. A little boring.

One of their scouts had caught me helping her move over so I could get a better angle at the spinal wiring.

Blah blah blah. I'm sure you know the highlights from there.

So here's where we get to the advice that was the whole point of this message:

I admit the public eye is a little difficult to get used to. Honestly I recommend you just ignore it. They'll say shit no matter what you do.

Don't call her by the name the board gave her. I know that's what you learned in school and in training. Don't do it.

Don't piss her off.

Be patient - her memory isn't what it used to be.

Don't tell her what to do. I read your file, you have a lot of experience. I know this will be the hard part.

If the mediacom switches to one of those awful family gameshows. Just. Let it happen. No, they do not get less annoying to listen to. Yes, she knows they're all the same.

The internal heating will be On when you're on any below-regulation temperature planet. I know you're from the outer colonies. I know that will be too warm for you. Get over it and try not to dress down too much; she's easier to maneuver when you're in layers.

The one exception to the above is her tune-ups and maintenance. She doesn't like it. She never does. We have four crews to make it easier and I still do it myself sometimes to help her get over it. You're going to have to get good at negotiating.

If you leave a battle with a sudden craving in your neurons for hot and hearty soup, go get some hot and hearty soup. She'll get stubborn with you next time if you don't.

Granny will take care of you from there.

-Captain Layfar

#writing #scifi #mecha

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