#Tristan coming in to save her. the two of them protecting each other from the smashing mirrors. Yvaine putting her arms around him and jusT

[itspileofgoodthings]

The moment in Stardust when Tristan walks into the witch’s lair and Yvaine who thought he didn’t care about her at all lights up while still chained to the sacrificial table of death

[ragedagainst]

there are very few people in the alliance that jyn is wary of. though there's a handful of unsavory characters that have managed to slip through the cracks, having grown up with the partisans, she's hardly threatened by a few blustering assholes. ( you threaten to break just one of their fingers and they're deflating like a popped balloon -- they wouldn't last an hour in saw's cadre. ) tristan patel falls into a different class entirely. from what she's gathered by his record ( which, unsurprisingly, has more redacted than not ), he's been in the alliance for longer than most -- though the details on what he's been involved in are few and far between. but it's not the gaps in his background that keeps her on edge ; considering her own lack of formal biography, it would be hypocritical of her to think otherwise. rather, it's the fact that she doesn't know for certain which side he's truly on. she's spent long enough in this world to recognize a selfish person when she sees one ( she is one ). how much will it take for him to sell out the rebellion to save his own skin ? everyone breaks eventually, no matter how much torture they can withstand -- how long until he starts spilling secrets to protect himself ? she doesn't doubt he can endure pain -- this conversation is evidence of that -- making the question here whether or not he believes in the rebellion's message enough to protect it and everyone within it.

it's that factor that leaves her the most wary of him. while she doesn't like not knowing much about who he is or what he's done, that is the undercurrent that tempers all of their interactions. whenever they speak, the two of them circle and size each other like feral animals. it's a pissing contest more than anything else, yet she can't help but needle him at any chance she gets. " no desire to square up against a crop of green recruits, then ? " she asks mildly, fully aware of the near non-existent capabilities that most new sentients come in with. ( the last time she'd pissed off high command, they'd grounded her and made her teach basic self defense. it had been surprisingly more rewarding than she'd expected. . .and she'd taken great pleasure in chewing out their old instructor for being unable to teach non-human sentients. )

her eyebrows raise in surprise at his admission -- it's more than what she'd been expecting when she'd begun this conversation in the first place. " prepared to lose that badly ? " minor bruises and sprains are one thing -- normal consequences of more intense sparring and nothing she'd waste bacta on. but this tells her that he's planning on taking it a step further. he must really be looking for punishment -- out of what, she wonders, guilt, masochism, boredom ? or perhaps just someone seeking the adrenaline rush only a losing fight can provide. " good luck with that. the 2-1bs are fucking assholes. " she'd spent too much time and energy after scarif trying to escape the medway to no avail. her lip curls upward, gaze slanting downward. " but now that you've made me your accomplice, i'll suppose you'll be wanting tips. "

MAYBE IT'S STRANGE THAT ALMOST NOBODY KNOWS A THING ABOUT TRISTAN PATEL. after all, he was one of the rebellion's earliest pilots, seemingly materializing from nowhere with a too-clean record, a corellian affect to his gravelly voice, and a modified arc-170 starfighter he'd dubbed the wasp after allegedly lifting it successfully from an imperial shipyard many years before. since then, even his activities within the rebellion have remained largely under wraps. all the official records show is that he'd heavily participated in the modification and testing of the first t-65b x-wings obtained by the alliance, that he'd collaborated frequently with rebel intelligence ( though the nature of his contributions is classified ) and, though he'd been a founding member of echo squadron, he appeared utterly uninterested in obtaining any sort of advanced rank. precious few know any truths of note about him and those who do aren't interested in sharing – but plenty over the years have speculated, albeit unsuccessfully.

for his part, tristan prefers only to tell assorted lies about himself, largely to test which rebels spread what rumors and identify the most egregious rats.

" good thing I never do my fighting around here. ever heard you shouldn't shit where you eat? " he regards her carefully out of the corner of his eye, fully aware jyn's trying to read him, even if she doesn't ultimately care what he does in his spare time – and he truly doubts she does, outside natural suspicion. creatures like the both of them prioritize self preservation and that means knowing what you're up against. it's only natural they be cautious of one another, given the mutual tendency to withhold that they share. " x-wing's alliance property, but not my starfighter. thing about having my own ship is I can go find myself a trandoshan. an at-at's good for a chiropractic adjustment, not a proper fistfight, so it'd defeat the purpose. "

mentally, he begins running through a pre-departure checklist. he's confirmed already that his provisions are stocked and his extra duffle's stored in the wasp. he still needs to fetch buggy, his astromech unit, but that can wait until last. he already finds himself hoping his charming, too-social droid isn't chattering away following at the heels of a member of his squadron or intelligence crew. he'd much rather slip out without being noticed by anyone else. he's gotten into enough trouble this week already without anyone suspecting he's off to seek more. his flinty gaze returns to her after a moment as he casually adds, " on my way to lift some extra first aid supplies from medbay, actually. wouldn't even tell you that much, but I know you're not a fucking rat. something tells me you'd rather eat bantha shit than be caught dead squealing on anyone. "

[pers-books]

ur called pers-books so can u recommend a good book?

Oh now you've done it, Anon!

I can ALWAYS recommend a good book!

You haven't specified which genre interests you, so here, have a handful of books which I've really, thoroughly enjoyed in the last year or so. Blurbs from and links to GoodReads.

Sistersong by Lucy Holland:

My sister’s heart broke on the river—and the river took it and bore it away.

In the ancient kingdom of Dumnonia, there is old magic to be found in the whisper of the wind, the roots of the trees, and the curl of the grass. King Cador knew this once, but now the land has turned from him, calling instead to his three children. Riva can cure others, but can’t seem to heal her own deep scars. Keyne battles to be accepted for who he truly is—the king’s son. And Sinne dreams of seeing the world, of finding adventure.

All three fear a life of confinement within the walls of the hold, their people’s last bastion of strength against the invading Saxons. However, change comes on the day ash falls from the sky. It brings with it Myrdhin, meddler and magician. And Tristan, a warrior whose secrets will tear them apart.

Riva, Keyne and Sinne—three siblings entangled in a web of treachery and heartbreak, who must fight to forge their own paths.

Their story will shape the destiny of Britain.

Finding Jessica Lambert by Clare Ashton

Jessica Lambert, movie star and ingénue, is in danger of burning out. Returning to London for the premiere of her latest film, she’s recognised everywhere she goes. When she runs away through the streets of London, she’s taken in by the beautiful and more mature Anna. The two hide in the sanctuary of Anna’s roof-top flat, a haven away from the crowds, but why has Anna removed herself from the world?

As the two women get to know each other, stripping away the layers, both appreciate what each does for the other. This could be the start of something wonderful, more than either of them know.

Wishyouwas by Alexandra Page

It's 1952 in smog-shrouded London. Christmas might be fast approaching, but with her mum away and Uncle Frank busy running the post office, Penny Black is lonelier than ever.

All that changes when Penny discovers a small, fluffy, funny, springy and – most importantly – talking creature in the post office one night, trying to make off with a letter.

But Wishyouwas is no thief. He's a Sorter, and he soon introduces Penny to a fascinating secret world hidden in the tunnels underneath the city's streets. Self-appointed guardians of lost mail, the Sorters have dedicated their lives to rescuing letters that have gone astray and making sure they get delivered to their rightful owners.

Penny is determined to protect the Sorters, but how long will she be able to keep them safe with Stanley Scrawl, the sinister Royal Mail Rat Catcher, on the prowl? Can Penny save the Sorters and deliver a joyful Christmas?

Stay by Catherine Ryan Hyde 

In the summer of 1969, fourteen-year-old Lucas Painter carries a huge weight on his shoulders. His brother is fighting in Vietnam. His embattled parents are locked in a never-ending war. And his best friend, Connor, is struggling with his own family issues. To find relief from the chaos, Lucas takes long, meandering walks, and one day he veers into the woods.

There he discovers an isolated cabin and two huge dogs. Frightened, he runs. And the dogs run with him. Lucas finds unusual peace in running with the dogs, and eventually he meets their owner, Zoe Dinsmore. Closed off and haunted by a tragic past, Zoe has given up. She doesn’t want to be saved. She wants out. But Lucas doesn’t want her to go, and he sees an opportunity to bring more than one friend back into the light. It’s either the best or worst idea he’s ever had, but Lucas isn’t giving up on Zoe or Connor.

Their unexpected connection might be the saving grace that Zoe thought she’d lost, that Connor needs, and that Lucas has been running toward.

One Man and His Bike by Mike Carter

What would happen if you were cycling to the office and just kept on pedalling?

Needing a change, Mike Carter did just that. Following the Thames to the sea he embarked on an epic 5,000 mile ride around the entire British coastline - the equivalent of London to Calcutta.

He encountered drunken priests, drag queens and gnome sanctuaries. He met fellow travellers and people building for a different type of future. He also found a spirit of unbelievable kindness and generosity that convinced him that Britain is anything but broken. This is the inspiring and very funny tale of the five months Mike spent cycling the byways of the nation.

(This is non-fiction in case it’s not obvious!)

The Last Act of Love: The Story of My Brother and His Sister by Cathy Rentzenbrink

In the summer of 1990, Cathy's brother Matty was knocked down by a car on the way home from a night out. It was two weeks before his GCSE results, which turned out to be the best in his school. Sitting by his unconscious body in hospital, holding his hand and watching his heartbeat on the monitors, Cathy and her parents willed him to survive. They did not know then that there are many and various fates worse than death.

This is the story of what happened to Cathy and her brother, and the unimaginable decision that she and her parents had to make eight years after the night that changed everything. It's a story for anyone who has ever watched someone suffer or lost someone they loved or lived through a painful time that left them forever changed. Told with boundless warmth and affection, The Last Act of Love by Cathy Rentzenbrink is a heart-breaking yet uplifting testament to a family's survival and the price we pay for love.

(Another non-fiction book.)

Nala's World: One Man, His Rescue Cat, and a Bike Ride around the Globe by Dean Nicholson

Instagram phenomenon @1bike1world Dean Nicholson reveals the full story of his life-changing friendship with rescue cat Nala and their inspiring adventures together on a bike journey around the world. When 30-year-old Dean Nicholson set off from Scotland to cycle around the world, his aim was to learn as much as he could about our troubled planet. But he hadn't bargained on the lessons he'd learn from his unlikely companion. Three months after leaving home, on a remote road in the mountains between Montenegro and Bosnia, he came across an abandoned kitten. Something about the piercing eyes and plaintive meowing of the bedraggled little cat proved irresistible. He couldn't leave her to her fate, so he put her on his bike and then, with the help of local vets, nursed her back to health. Soon on his travels with the cat he named Nala, they forged an unbreakable bond - both curious, independent, resilient and adventurous. The video of how they met has had 20 million views and their Instagram has grown to almost 750k followers - and still counting! Experiencing the kindness of strangers, visiting refugee camps, rescuing animals through Europe and Asia, Dean and Nala have already learned that the unexpected can be pretty amazing. Together with Garry Jenkins, writer with James Bowen of the bestselling A Street Cat Named Bob, Dean shares the extraordinary tale of his and Nala's inspiring and heart-warming adventure together.

(More non-fiction!)

Murder on the Menu (The Nosey Parker Mysteries #1) by Fiona Leitch

Still spinning from the hustle and bustle of city life, Jodie ‘Nosey’ Parker is glad to be back in the Cornish village she calls home. Having quit the Met Police in search of something less dangerous, the change of pace means she can finally start her dream catering company and raise her daughter, Daisy, somewhere safer. But there’s nothing like having your first job back at home to be catering an ex-boyfriend’s wedding to remind you of just how small your village is. And when the bride, Cheryl, vanishes Jodie is drawn into the investigation, realising that life in the countryside might not be as quaint as she remembers… With a missing bride on their hands, there is murder and mayhem around every corner but surely saving the day will be a piece of cake for this not-so-amateur sleuth?

No Rings Attached (Ms. Right #2) by Rachel Lacey

Lia Harris is tired of being the odd one out. She’s never quite fit in with her uptight family, and now that her roommates have all found love, she’s starting to feel like a third wheel in her own apartment. Fed up with her mother’s constant meddling in her love life, Lia drops hints about a girlfriend she doesn’t have. But with her brother’s London nuptials approaching, she needs to find a date to save face. Lia turns to her best friend, Rosie, for help, and Rosie delivers—with the fun, gorgeous Grace Poston. Grace loves to have a good time, hiding her insecurities behind a sunny smile. Her recent move to London has provided her with a much-needed fresh start. Grace isn’t looking for love, and she hates weddings, having weathered more than her fair share of heartache. Friendships are different, though, so for Rosie’s sake, she reluctantly agrees to pose as Lia’s adoring girlfriend for the wedding festivities. Both Grace and Lia are prepared for an awkward weekend, complete with prying family members and a guest room with only one bed. As it turns out, they get along well—spectacularly, in fact. Before they know it, the chemistry they’re faking feels all too real. But is their wedding weekend a fleeting performance or the rehearsal for a love that’s meant to last?

We Are Satellites by Sarah Pinsker

Everybody's getting one. Val and Julie just want what's best for their kids, David and Sophie. So when teenage son David comes home one day asking for a Pilot, a new brain implant to help with school, they reluctantly agree. This is the future, after all. Soon, Julie feels mounting pressure at work to get a Pilot to keep pace with her colleagues, leaving Val and Sophie part of the shrinking minority of people without the device. Before long, the implications are clear, for the family and society: get a Pilot or get left behind. With government subsidies and no downside, why would anyone refuse? And how do you stop a technology once it's everywhere? Those are the questions Sophie and her anti-Pilot movement rise up to answer, even if it puts them up against the Pilot's powerful manufacturer and pits Sophie against the people she loves most.

To Boldly Go by Em Stevens

When life gives you lemons, drink limoncello. 

Taryn's trip of a lifetime is finally happening. She's saved money, researched, planned, and created an itinerary that will allow her to travel Italy...and finally tell her best friend that she's in love with her. But those plans are ruined when she wakes up alone, her crush gone. Her plans did not include being alone and stranded in Milan. Now Taryn's dream vacation is a nightmare.

Enter Holly, a fellow traveller: young, full of life, and comfortable traipsing off the beaten path. Holly feels a connection with Taryn and wants to salvage her trip. After all, they're in freaking Italy! But their radically different travel styles and age differences make for rough terrain. Together, they boldly go into unexplored territories of the heart, and may just discover love.

The Full Scoop by Kitty Jones

Leanne didn’t expect to be spending the rest of her life alone, but when her wife passes away unexpectedly, she’s thrust right back into the world of dating – but it’s one she no longer recognizes. With apps and websites and a million different things to learn, she wonders whether she’s ever going to find someone to fill the hole in her heart from Sherry’s death. When a hundred-year-old bookstore goes on the market, Leanne takes a spontaneous leap and buys the place. She’s got nothing but time on her hands, after all? What harm could come from buying an old building, anyway? Unfortunately for her, the building has secrets. 29-year-old Billie Wise is the epitome of clumsy, which is one of the reasons she’s basically the world’s worst reporter. When her boss gives her a bogus assignment – to get the inside scoop on a new bookstore that’s opening in town – she knows it’s simply something to do to shove her out of the way so she isn’t eligible for a promotion. Irritated and tired, Billie walks into the bookstore expecting to be greeted by someone who is as angry as she is, but she’s not. The owner is gorgeous, caring, and compassionate. She’s everything that Billie could never be. When Billie finds herself falling for the bookstore owner, she wonders if their worlds could really ever collide. Will Billie be able to get the full scoop on what it takes to make Leanne fall in love with her?

Vile Stars by Sera Milano

(TRUE) LOVE (TOXIC) LOVE (LOST) LOVE This is a different kind of love story. 17-year-old Luka isn't looking for love. She's trying to piece her life back together after a heart-breaking loss. But when she meets the gorgeous and charismatic Cosmo under a meteor shower at the Greenwich Observatory, it feels like destiny has played a hand. Surely theirs is a love written in the stars. But Cosmo isn't what he seems, using Luka's love for him to slowly take control of her life. As the pandemic starts to make headlines and lockdown sets in, she is trapped emotionally and physically in a coercive relationship. Luka's friends and brother can see what's happening, but struggle to reach her. Something will have to be sacrificed so Luka can set herself free - but what will be left of her when she does? Luka's story is told from many points of view: through her letters, and through the voices of her brother, Alec, his boyfriend Theo and Luka's best friend, Roisin. Each of them holds a fragment of the story - it's time to put it all together.

(Be warned, this is a difficult read as it features Covid-19, gaslighting and manipulation, and homophobia. But it is a bloody brilliant book!)

This Can Never Not Be Real by Sera Milano

FIVE TEENAGERS WITH NOTHING IN COMMON, THROWN TOGETHER BY AN ACT OF TERRORISM, CAN'T SURVIVE THE NIGHT WITHOUT EACH OTHER. In the unremarkable town of Amberside, the unthinkable has happened: Terrorists have attacked a local festival. No one knows why, and no one knows who the attackers are, but that doesn’t matter. What matters first is survival. And what matters after that is survival, too. In this brilliantly written account of hope, humour and humanity, five ordinary teenagers are caught up in a truly extraordinary situation. It’s a heart-pounding and gripping account of the fight for survival, told from multiple perspectives, as the attackers prowl the festival grounds. A book for anyone who needs to see that behind the hate that makes the headlines, there is always love.

(This is also a difficult book, but again, bloody brilliant and compelling. Sera Milano is an outstanding writer.)

Hope you find something to enjoy in there, Anon.

[teabooksandsweets]

All Creatures Great and Small

Facts, trivia and corrections of common misconceptions

As you probably know, I love James Herriot’s books and the BBC series All Creatures Great and Small. But reading posts online, from random comments on social media to actual newspaper articles, made me realise that not everything said about the books and especially the series is exactly correct, or at least not complete. And then of course, there’s also the usual questions askwed and answered (not always correctly) over and over again. So this post will address some of these things, simply because I care about it all.

James and Helen, Chris and Carol

The most common untruth spread about the series is that Christopher Timothy, who played James Herriot in the BBC series, left his first wife for an affair with Carol Drinkwater, who played Helen in the first three seasons, and that she was fired from the show because of it.

It was actually quite different. First of all: Carol was never fired! The show was cancelled after three seasons, as the books had finished at that time, and Carol returned for two following feature-lenght specials. It was only when, due to the books’ and the show’s popularity, Alf Wight (the real Herriot) decided to write new stories that the show was revived, and Carol, unhappy with a role that she liked but thought to limited, chose not to return.

As for the affair, that was different as well. There was a lot of bad press, especially for Carol, but Chris Timothy never left his wife for her. In fact, they didn’t even like each other at first: Carol had a mild crush on Robert Hardy, which she never pursued because he was married at the time, and didn’t get along with Christopher Timothy at all. Then, near the end of the first run of the show, they had to wait together in a car for a scene to begin filming, and they started to talk. His married had just ended at that time and he was very distraught, though he was not yet formally divorced, and she had just gone through a painful break up herself. They bonded over that, and got together. Chris was still married at that time, but seperated, and she was never the reason for his divorce. The press painted a different picture, one that is still spread nearly fourty years later, but it’s not true at all.

The Yorkshire farmers

Were all actors. People like to claim otherwise, but it is not true. Many people like to say that the farmers look too authentic to be played by actors, but that isn’t true. The actors were just very good at playing farmers, and not so famous as to be instantly recognised. Many were regional actors, from little theatres and comedy troupes, others were rather familiar, but not too well-known faces from television shows. They were not real farmers, they just did their work and did it well.

What about the vets?

The big question of the arms inside the cows. Did the actors really do the dirty work? Long story short: Yes.

But they didn’t do things on their own! No, no. The BBC hired to veterinarians, one for pets and studio scenes, one for farm animals and outdoor filming. The real vets trained the actors, helped them, and sometimes traded places with them for close ups on their hands. They even found sick animals to be treated for the filming, either by the actors under their guidance, or by themselves, depending on how difficult or serious the respective procedure and ailment were.

Some things, such as stitching wounds and helping with the calfing and lambing (the latter being rather normal for “country bumpkin” Robert Hardy, who was used to a lot of the work he had to do on screen) were done by the actors, including the (in)famous arms in the cows’ backsides. But never anything that could harm the animal! In fact, many animals were saved by the show, as the BBC paid for all treatments on set, which caused the real evts to take the pets of poor clients to the tv sets, even if they were never used for filming, and made the BBC pay the bills.

Fun fact, though: There’s a scene in which Peter Davison literally screams with his arm in a cow’s backside. That’s because his arm was tightly squeezed inside and he was in real pain. But don't worry, he got out alright, and the cow was okay too.

Science and progress

The illnesses and treatments were very accurate. People also like to claim otherwise, but that isn’t true. Many things, of course, are outdated now (and, ironically, many things that were seen outdated back then have become rather common again!) but the medical treatments are absolutely accurate for their time, and so is the portrayal of the scientific progress from the 30s to the 50s.

There are, of course, very individual cases, and unconventional treatments, but that happens if you base things on real life and memory, rather than textbooks. Those special cases are either things that really happened and worked a bit different than usual, or things that are very similar to real happenings (like real cases “blended” to make one fictional one, etc.) and not, in fact, pure invention. The books are, after all, written by a real vet, based on his own memory, and the show adopted all these cases very accurately.

Fact and fiction

Alf Wight still chose to make things up for his stories. Many details are changed from real life, such as changing Helen’s background very much from Joan’s and putting aquaintances from different decades into one setting. He also kept things from his perspective—things he didn’t know about his friends, were things he didn’t know, at least at that time, and that is how things stay.

Now the writers and actors of the show dug a bit deeper, and talked to Joan (Helen), the Sinclairs (the Farnons) and other people who play necessary parts. They added details that could give more depths to the stories, but also respected specific wishes for privacy, especially coming from Donald Sinclair.

Which brings me to:

What happened to Caroline?

Siegfried marries Caroline in the first Christmas special, but she is only mentioned (and sometimes briefly seen) in later episodes. Many people wonder if that means that their marriage ended or wasn’t good, but it’s very much different.

Caroline is based on Donald Sinclair’s real wife Audrey, whom he loved incredibly much. They had two children, which are also sometimes mentioned but never shown in the series. That is because Donald valued his privacy very much and wanted to protect his family from public attention.

Alf Wight first met Donald Sinclair as a young “bachelor” (actually widower, but he also kept that to himself) with many flings with pretty young women, and that’s how Siegfried was portrayed at first. But it couldn’t be kept like that always—it would have been silly for a middle-aged Robert Hardy to always invent visits to his mother to cover up various dates, and a character based on Donald, whose world revolved around his wife, could only be a bachelor in the very first few years of his acquaintance with Herriot. Donald Sinclair was unhappy with being shown dating various women, which he did before he married Audrey, even after three seasons, and he also didn’t want Audrey to be used for the show.

So it was decided that Siegfried were to have a wife, and children, and be very happily married in the later (initially unplanned) seasons, and that there were not to appear in television storylines. They lived off-screen, in their own big mansion, while Siegfried was working in Skeldale House. A woman-who-could-be-Caroline was sometimes seen when a partner was needed, and that’s it.

Donald’s first wife was never mentioned, also out of respect to his privacy, but Siegfried was portrayed to have a severe fear of loss and separation, and to cling very strongly to all his loved ones, as well as to have strong depressive and maniac episodes, which is said to be accurate to Donald Sinclair’s personality. This portrayal was, however, done very subtly.

Character and actor

Alf Wight said to Christopher Timothy that he was the Herriot that he wrote about. They got along very well, and Chris Timothy was considered the perfect actor for the part by him.

Donald Sinclair was, true to Siegfried’s character, always unhappy with the way he was portrayed, and the better and more accurate the portrayal got, the more dissatisfied got he. Robert Hardy was, according to people who knew Donald, absolutely perfect at playing him, and Donald himself was of a very different opinion. But he liked Robert very much, they became very close friends, and Robert actually worked as assistant in his surgery and sometimes their families lived together for filming and holiday periods. Both Alf Wight and Robert Hardy insisted that they “toned him down” while writing/playing him, even people who didn’t know him thought him “too much”.

Brian Sinclair was very happy about the way he was portrayed, and about the books and the show in general, and very relaxed about it all. He also really liked Peter Davison.

Joan was very critical of Carol Drinkwater at first, and thought she made her look like a tart, but warmed up to her later and talked well of her performance in retrospect.

The second girl to play Rosie Herriot, Alison Lewis, was friends with Rosie’s real-life daughter Emma. Rosie didn’t expect her to play the part, and was very surprised to see herself played by her daughter’s friend on tv!

Marjorie Warner, the inspiration for Mrs Pumphrey, was one of the first people to recognise herself on the page while reading the books, and was very happy about the way she was portrayed. It is, as far as I am informed, unknown whether she liked the tv series, but she was still alive when the first seasons were made.

As for the actors

It was Robert Hardy who made much of it all possible. His fame allowed the BBC to cast the relatively unknown Christopher Timothy in the lead role, which they first wanted to cast a famous actor for, and it was him who insisted on making Tristan a larger character, because he greatly enjoyed Peter Davison and set his mind on making the young man a star. He also threatened to leave the show if it were filmed anywhere but Yorkshire, and he also forced the BBC to treat the actors and animals better, and insisted on the necessary safety around the animals. After Chris Timothy’s accident, he insisted that he shouldn’t be re-cast and took up some of the work he couldn’t to, and made Peter and Carol do the same. That aside, he edited, revised and changed some of the scripts, and wrote some of his own scenes. When some younger writers messed up Siegfried in the later episodes, he largely took over himself.

Robert Hardy and Peter Davison actually grew extremely fond of each other. Robert insisted that Peter looked exactly like one of his brothers at that age, and he loved the way Peter tried to impersonate his mannerisms to make them feel more like a family.

Christie the whippet was Robert Hardy’s real dog, the other dogs belonged to producers and other crew members. Some sources claim that all dogs were his, but that isn’t true. SIegfried’s horses were usually actor-horses but he sometimes rode his own on screen.

Mary Hignett was the balancing force between the actors. Everyone loved and admired her, and whenever there was a bad mood between the others, she quickly got them all calm again, just as Mrs Hall used to do. Her sudden death shortly after the (original) end of the show was a great shock to all of them, and Mrs Hall died with her. She was greatly loved by everyone.

Margaretta Scott was also very respected and beloved. She always insisted on carrying the various dogs who played Tricki-Woo on set, and she would only have her make up done by the chief make up artist.

Robert Hardy’s was usually called Tim, as his real first name was Timothy, which he was also occassionally called, and which caused some confusion on the set.

Christopher Timothy had a car crash at the end of the filming of the first season, in which he broke his legs, which is the reason he walked on a stick and had a very stiff walk for some time.

Robert Hardy’s daughter Emma has a very serious riding accident before the filming of the first season, in which she was badly injured, and which made her father rather sensitive to the horse-related safety on set, and insist that everything must be done right and no risks taken. She fully recovered, and actually played the small part of Rosemary Brocklehurst in the series, thirteen years later.

Lynda Bellingham was pregnant during the filming of season five, which is the reason for the slipped disc storyline. Andrea Gibb, who played Deirdre, was also pregnant at that time, but her part was smaller and was simply away for some episodes, and wore some covering clothes.

[nlrpg]

homecoming weekend: Capture The Flag !!

As the sun begins to set on the west coast, Nemean Lion’s campus begins to welcome more guests into the Demicenter. Visitors with a ticket to Capture The Flag receive a bracelet that allows them entry into the campus’ Arena, a first for the public in Nemean Lion’s history. A magical portal created just for today grants them transportation from the Demicenter to the Arena, as NL takes its precautions and doesn’t allow a chance for them to snoop around other restricted parts of the campus. The bracelets they wear give them access to only the Arena, which shouldn’t be a problem, because who would want to be anywhere else during the main event?

Fit like one of the world’s best arenas, the stands allow for an audience of about 20,000, and today’s event is sold out. The center field is slightly larger than usual, however, and for now sits as flat, grassy turf. There’s a steady roar of the thousands of fans in the Arena, which include most of the demigods and their families in front row seats, here to cheer on their members. NL Administration, including manager and CEO, sit in box seats to watch over the members in their care and make sure this goes well. And just like advertised, the event is televised, and a magically experienced crew are all set up around the Arena, streaming live to millions of devices around the world.

Music and fanfare begins to sound throughout the Arena as the two teams enter the field, led by the two team captains. Falling in line behind captain Theo Choi of Team A are Juniper Johnson, Drew Suh, July Chin, Grace Marshall, Viola Lovera, Ezra Stokes, Narumi Kato, Jesse Garcia, Vera Marshall, James Koo, Minjeong Park, Regan Morgan, Alessio Castellani, Charla Lee, and Axel Green. On the other side stands Team B, comprised of Nick Spencer, Safiye Bennet, Cyrus Tan, Simon Hong, Mira Funetes, Prim Tran, Mayumi Ishida, Stormie Burbank, Tristan Day, Gigi Gautier, Carly Serrano, Pandora Liu, Ace Aguilar, Holly Sharp, and Kennedy Xun all captained by Cynthia Byun.

Once both teams stand ready on either side, Marina gives a cue, and a low rumble echoes throughout the venue. The turf begins to morph before everyone’s eyes, transforming the flat field into a forest landscape, the work of their own extremely skilled manager who’s power most people don’t see too often. Hills and trees begin to cover the distance between the two teams, until neither can see their opponents, a vast forest landscape shrouding each other from view. Clad in armor, donning their weapons, and with abilities at the ready, it’s almost time to begin.

Floating above the open roof of the Arena are honorary white marble thrones gilded in gold. Twelve, to be exact, though they sit empty as they always have on days of events like these, only ever a show of courtesy, a sign of respect to the gods that watch over them. Or, at least, that’s how it’s always been in the past.

An almost imperceptible hum begins to stir in the air, raising the hair of everyone’s arms, and somehow commanding a hush across the stadium. Marina Ren and Daphne Saengmai share a surprised but knowing glance just as light begins to shine bright from the skies. In a golden haze, ethereal figures begin to materialize in the noble thrones above the Arena, though not every seat becomes occupied, as everyone below counts six otherworldly figures. Their faces are somehow shrouded by both shadow and light, features undetectable, and to the mortals they have no idea who is who, only that for almost all of them, they’re in the presence of gods for the very first time. The demigods, however, know the order of those thrones by heart, and know which gods now watch above them.

Demeter. Ares. Apollo. Artemis. Aphrodite. Hermes.

Marina smiles once up at them, takes a steadying breath, then brings her attention back down to the field. She gives the signal, a horn blows, and the game begins.

Team A sprints into action, sending its slew of offensive players into the forest. Theo Choi leads them, weapon in hand, running through the forest to act as the first barrier of defense, and as soon as she finds members from the other team, her sword clashes with Mayumi Ishida, who leads offense as well for Team B.

The Team A captain is flanked by July Chin and Jesse Garcia, who though not heroes, hold their own against Mayumi and her own backup, Mira Funtes, who are unfortunately outnumbered. Besides, this first scrap is only the first defense.

The two huntresses of Team B, Gigi Gautier and Ace Aguilar use their tracking abilities and experience from training with the hunt to dart quickly and quietly through the forest, looking for the easiest pathway to Team A’s red flag for the rest of their teammates, then throw an arrow into the sky as signal. They have to be excellent, after all, their lady is watching.

Their teammates, Safiye Bennet and Stormie Burbank see the signal and begin heading towards the direction, escaping most of the scuffle in the middle of the Arena. Grace Marshall, propelled in higher view with her aerokinesis, catches it too and sends a signal to her own teammate. Ezra Stokes holds a piece of tech in his hands as he runs towards Grace’s signal, the device able to scan for heat signatures and when it picks up the daughter of Aphrodite and daughter of Dionysus heading toward what should be a clear path, they come head to head with him and Viola Lovera, ready for combat.

Thankfully, Simon Hong of Team B had also caught his team’s signal, and darts past them unseen, using his shadow travel for increments at a time. He gets to the clearing of Team A’s flag and then finally to the flagpole itself. He grabs the opponent’s bright red flag, about to step into his shadow travel to get it back to his side of the field, but before he can make it out, gets clothes-lined by Alessio Castellani and a broad-staff, who tries to wrench his team’s flag out from his grasp.

Though her teammate is down, Holly Sharp comes upon the scene and knows the objective is victory and grabs the red flag from Simon, and before anyone can stop her, begins to use her enhanced speed to get out of danger’s way and head back into her team’s direction.

In the middle of the forest, Team A’s Minjeong Park, Vera Marshall, and Regan Morgan are tucked behind tree trunks, peeking out to sling arrows across the way, aimed at the trunks hiding their opponents, Pandora Liu and Tristan Day, who fire arrows back just as quickly.

But when a well-hidden Axel Green conjures up some sunlight in Tristan’s face, the Team B archer misfires, hitting Holly in the thigh on her journey back, and everyone springs into action for the flag in her hand.

When the first member of Team A makes it to the clearing that holds Team B’s blue flag, James Koo finds it unguarded, and foolishly begins to reach for it. But a very quiet-footed and stealthy Carly Serrano pops up from seemingly nowhere and lulls him into a gentle sleep before he can do it. This strategy might’ve continued to work if Narumi Kato hadn’t been expertly observing from the treeline, and dashes in next, knocking Carly to the ground with a well-timed shove before she can stop him from grabbing the blue flag.

However, Nick Spencer also springs from the treeline and races after him into the forest, attempting to protect his team’s flag. The two boys catch each other and parry blows and strikes, and just as Nick is about to take the upper hand, Drew Suh and Charla Lee of Team A help their teammate.

Noticing their teammate is in need, Kennedy Xun joins the fray and attempts to sword fight with the rest of them, but quickly ends up knocked harshly back by Charla, tripping on a tree root and spraining their ankle in the process, down for the count. Nick stops to help his friend, but not before focusing hard on Drew who now has the flag and mind controlling him into dropping it. It works, though thanks to his limits, it also sends him down.

Prim Tran of Team B leaps into view, running towards her team’s blue flag to try to save it, and that’s precisely when Team A’s Juniper Johnson descends like a bat out of hell. Donned in black streaks of war-paint on her cheeks that absolutely no one asked her to wear, she charges terrifyingly towards the blue flag, butting Prim with her shield to block her, and snatches it up, running back in the direction of her team’s field.

She’s a mighty opponent, ditching the shield and brandishing her combat knives like a demon, she makes it past Cyrus Tan who attempts to block her with a wave of water from the small stream she leaps over.

She makes it past the middle of the field where the largest cluster of demigods still fight over the red flag, zipping past, only a passing thought to those in the brawl who don’t notice the royal blue cloth in her clutch.

When she finally hits the clearing, finding almost no one there, she’s nearly victorious. Until, previously hidden in shadow, emerges Cynthia Byun, longsword in hand. Team B’s captain, having been lurking with her umbrakinesis, uses this one last opportunity to keep Team A from winning. Though her opponent is a graduated hero, and this captain is only in training, they exchange blows almost well-matched. Cyntha’s longsword clangs time and time again with Juniper’s combat knives, managing to disarm one of them and slash an clean streak against the daughter of Hecate’s upper arm.

Expending one last feat of strength, Juniper uses some magic to cast up an illusion of shadow, as if she might have duplicated Cynthia’s own power, and it confuses her opponent and shields herself just enough to buy the one second she needs to fake in one direction and the lunge toward the golden flagpole. Cynthia, only allowing herself that one brief moment of doubt, dashes forward with her longsword in the direction she knows Juniper would have chosen, feeling her blade connect on the downstroke with the flesh of Juniper’s leg. But it’s just too far and just too late. Juniper has secured the other team’s blue flag onto the golden pole.

A triumphant horn sounds, and the speakers blare.

“Game! Team A has won this match of Capture The Flag!”

The crowd erupts into roaring cheers, Team A celebrates as Team B accepts the loss, the foliage and terrain of the landscape morphs back into a grassy field as the speakers continue to announce the victory.

Healers begin to jog onto the field, tending to the wounds and injuries of all the players, and Marina has already made her way down, beginning to congratulate and shake the hands of the victors, and thank the defeated team for a job well done.

The cameras pick up the crowd happily cheering in support, the pridefully exhausted faces of all the team members, and Marina’s smiling face thanking everyone for coming out tonight as music continues to sound and confetti falls all around the glamorous Arena. The view of the lens pans up to try to catch a glimpse of the gods above, but apart from a lingering light they leave behind, they’re already gone.

Game well played! Rest up, demigods, enjoy the night with your families, and we’ll see you all for the Homecoming Dance tomorrow!

[daybreakrising]

Etienne.

The name is like a dagger in the gut; he feels the sharp twist of agony as it falls from her lips, uttered in scorn where once it had been spoken with adoration. He has not been called that name since he was ten years old, save for a fleeting hiss from their mother's lips, that brief moment of recognition as she tried to claw out his throat-

Despite it all, he feels a slight quirk at one corner of his mouth. She deflects with humour in the same way he does: evidence of defense mechanisms built up out of necessity. She can claim she was rescued, claim she is happy, but he sees through it all. Whilst their parents' client list was never found, he cannot imagine anyone buying a child from that family could be anything but evil themselves.

"Let me share some wisdom with you," he begins, holding her gaze as if he can see all the secrets of her life within them, "the people who find their way here, the people with records like yours... they're never happy. They don't come from good homes, perfect parents. They are broken, damaged, deprived of care and love." There's no hint of a smile now. "You can tell yourself those lies all you like, Baobhan - Tristan - but it won't make them true."

How many others are there, out in the world? His brothers and sisters who were 'adopted' like her, transferred from one terrible family to the next, to be used, abused, trapped in a life they never asked for nor deserved. He tries not to think about it too often - those he couldn't save, those he was too late to help. Yet now, faced with one such sibling, it is hard to push those thoughts aside.

But if she truly believes she was rescued, if she has been made to think this life is better, then he cannot undo the damage so easily. He has seen this many times: she will reject the notion outright, refuse to accept the plain truth. If he is to help his sister, he must do so with patience, with care.

"You will be confined to an isolated cell until you can be properly assessed." He rises to his feet - no longer a long lost brother, but the warden. "If you prove not to be a threat to yourself, my staff, or your fellow inmates, you will be transferred accordingly and can begin work. If, however, you are deemed a danger, you will serve your sentences in isolation."

She will never see the surface again, he thinks. He had been granted a lighter sentence for the circumstances of his crime, but Tristan had not received such leniency. Each charge carried a sentence of eighteen years. The Fortress would be her home for the rest of her life.

"As the warden, it is my duty to oversee the care of all inmates in isolation. I'll be keeping a close eye on you, Tristan." I'll be watching over you. "And I don't think it needs to be said, but I will say it anyway..." His eyes harden: two chips of ice peering down at her beneath dark, furrowed brows. "Etienne does not exist. Our dear parents saw to that well enough on their own, but what little of him they left behind, I buried in the dirt long ago. I am Wriothesley, and you are Tristan."

The walls are up: he must shield himself, protect the heart that yearns to hold her again, to braid her hair and make her laugh the way he did when they were kids. And, perhaps most importantly, he cannot let himself break in front of her. To quell the swelling tide of emotion, he must build the flood barriers high.

"This is a place of rehabilitation, of healing. I hope you make use of that, petite soeur, as I did."

she waits, silent, for the guards to fully make their way out of the area— and for the door to close behind them. while she could easily slip out of her bindings, the woman opts to remain restrained. for now.

just as his expression softens, hers darkens.

" ...is this a joke, etienne? they seriously made you the big boss? here i was, thinking we would be troublemaking inmates together. " comes a half-hearted attempt at humor in a very unfitting moment. after all, if this meeting becomes too heavy, she may end up with a crack in her façade.

" don't bother with your pity, either. i was rescued. i'm happy now. " a lie, a lie, she's a liar— baobhan sith never once found happiness. only ever approval. anything, anything for approval. he kneels before her, and her stance is unwavering. she'll kill him, too- mother would be proud of that, wouldn't she? baobhan sith, discarding the kindness her mother hates so much by killing her very own brother— surely, surely that would earn earn her praise. surely. undoubtedly.

" tell me your verdict already. do i get to be thrown into meropide's trashbin just like you? " the killer queries, making an unimpressed clicking noise with her tongue. she dares not mention the stinging in her eyes that demand her to break down into tears before him; she dares not even entertain them.

tristan needs no family other than her mother. her kind, merciful mother, who raised her to be so cruel.

... " you're staring at me like——you know i'm not actually a ghost, right? "

[wildborn-witch]

“There are tales spoken in hushed whispers, beyond the ears of the Emperor’s Coven, about a tribe of witches who were bonded to spirits—mystical beings born of wild magic. An ancient race they were, said to have been the first children of the Titan when it fell. Taking the form of beasts, they had the ability to heal and speak to the Isles, calling upon its natural power. These gifts they shared with the witches, who took their name in gratitude, and together, they and their descendants settled near the Heart, wishing to live in harmony with the wilderness and their ancestor.’ 

“Centuries passed, and eventually their neighbors came to wield magic of their own, sparking a new age of discovery. In this time, the original covens were formed, each following one of nine disciplines, yet they all recognized the ancient tribe as the first masters. On their part, the tribe stayed distant from the others, though anyone willing to learn from them was welcomed among their ranks.’

“Everything changed, however, with the coming of the Savage Ages. Chaos reigned, and conflict and unrest divided the land until a new figure arose: a mysterious witch who called himself Belos. Claiming to be an emissary of the Titan, he vowed to bring unity to the Isles, insisting that unbound magic only brought disorder. One by one, the nine covens bowed to his teachings, but the ancient tribe resisted—they saw him for what he truly was, and would not give up the old ways. Their defiance led to their destruction, as Belos and his coven hunted them all down until, at last, only their chief remained. Accused of high treason, he was sentenced to petrification, frozen in stone as Belos took the title of Emperor over the Boiling Isles.’

“It has been thirty years since the tribe’s extinction, and the spirits have fallen silent, fading into myth and legend. But nothing lasts forever, for a new awakening has begun. The old ways will be found once more, and in time, the Isles will see the return of…’

To those who have followed me already on both this blog and my main account, I want to thank you all so much for your patience and continued interest as this has taken shape. To those who are here for the first time, my name is Drekasál, and I’m proud to announce the official master post and FAQ for the Wildborn AU!

I intend to update this as often as possible as I continue to work on new pieces—both artistic and literary—as well as answer whatever questions that may come up in the future, but for now, I figure the basics would be good to start with, first and foremost being…

What is the Wildborn AU?

The Wildborn AU is my personal contribution to The Owl House fandom, centering around my witchsona Tristan O’Connor who is its main protagonist. Taking place after the events of Season 1, it explores my own take on the history of magic on the Isles by introducing the Wildborn—a tribe of ancient witches bonded to powerful spirits of the same name.

Lore

Originating from days long before the Savage Ages, the Wildborn came into being when the Titan first fell, and hold great power over the Isles’ primordial forces. Reflecting their wild natures, their spiritual forms take on the form of beasts, both mythical and mundane.

In the past, the spirits had a rocky relationship with the early witches, whom had not evolved bile-sacs yet and thus relied on harnessing the wild magic of the Isles through glyphs. At some point in history, however, a young witch from an ancient tribe formed a Bond with the Thunderbird, the first of the spirits and their guardian. After that, the two groups grew closer, with more witches and spirits  forming Bonds with each other, eventually becoming the Wildborn tribe. Harnessing the power of their spirits, the Wildborn witches did not need to rely on glyphs, and those pairs who developed strong Bonds could Merge to become a new being, a reflection of the spirit’s beast form combined with the traits of their witch.

Regarded as the first masters of wild magic, the tribe was well-respected for centuries, even as other witches eventually evolved bile-sacs and formed the original covens. Tragically, that came to an end during the Savage Ages, which saw the appearance of Emperor Belos and his enforcement of the coven system. Seeing the Wildborn as untamable and a threat to his teachings, he ordered for their persecution, hunting them down and forbidding any mention of them, until at last it seemed they had been wiped out. But the tales still persist, and the spirits live on, waiting for the day their Guardian will return, and restore balance to the Isles...

Inspiration

This AU draws inspiration from both Wolfwalkers and Brother Bear, both of which are beautifully animated movies, but the latter especially I consider a criminally underrated Disney movie. Wolfwalkers mainly inspired the Hellhounds, the secondary group of characters in the AU, but both movies played a part in developing the Wildborn themselves, particularly their powers and portrayal as animal spirits.

The Characters

Tristan O’Connor - Protagonist in the Wildborn AU. He is a faun witchling enrolled in the Beast Keeping tract at Hexside School of Magic and Demonics. Shy yet kind, he has a deep love of nature and the wild, though it is a passion he has been forced to curb up until now due to the rigidity of the coven system. It is revealed later on that he is Bonded to the spirit Anam, making him the first living Wildborn to exist in thirty years.

Aedh - Deuteragonist in the Wildborn AU. He is a member of the Hellhounds, a pack of wolf-like fire elementals who live hidden beneath the Titan’s skull. Daring and adventurous, he doesn’t have the same bitterness against witches like his elders, having not been born during the time of their persecution, and he welcomes Tristan warmly as a friend. He proves vital in helping the witchling adjust to his Wildborn powers, teaching him how to be a Hellhound when he is Merged with Anam.

Anam - Tritagonist in the Wildborn AU. He is Tristan’s Wildborn spirit, originally being the soul of a Hellhound pup born with “too little fire”. As the AU progresses, it is discovered that he is Aedh’s younger brother and littermate, thus making Tristan, through his Bond with Anam, Aedh’s spiritual brother and and a member of the pack.

Tuft - Supporting character in the Wildborn AU. He is Tristan’s pet griffin, getting his name from his tufted ears uncommon to his kind. A frequent companion of the witchling, he is fiercely loyal and protective, accompanying him on his adventures in the wilderness.

Eleri O’Connor - Supporting character in the Wildborn AU. She is Tristan’s mother and a member of Bard Coven, stated to be well-respected as a master of her craft. She is shown to be a caring and loving parent, though she constantly worries about her son, partly due to her frequent absence in the household, as well as her fear that Tristan might never fit in and suffer for it. Although she is Adar’s daughter, she is not Wildborn herself, having never Bonded with a spirit.

Adar O’Connor/The Thunderbird - Supporting character(s) in the Wildborn AU. Adar O’Connor is Eleri’s father and Tristan’s grandfather, and was the last great chief Bonded to the Thunderbird before the extinction of the Wildborn tribe. When Adar was sentenced to petrification, the Thunderbird permanently Merged with him to save his life, and they act as guides to Tristan and his allies as the AU unfolds.

Arduinna “Rina” Ward - TBA

Arwain the Seeress - TBA

This list will be updated as new characters are developed and added!

Are the main cast of The Owl House involved?

Yes, actually! Their roles are still being developed, but I do intend for Luz to play an important part in this AU, given her rediscovery and usage of glyph magic, and she becomes one of Tristan’s close allies. Eleri herself has had interactions/relationships with Eda and Lilith in the past, when they were attending Hexside together as teenagers.

Is this an open AU? (Can anyone participate/make connections?)

I definitely wish for the Wildborn AU to be as open-ended as possible, as I love making potential connections with the stories/characters of other creators in the fandom. Fair warning, however, that this AU is still in constant development, so things are liable to change! Don’t be afraid to reach out if you have ideas you want to run by me!

Is fanart/fan fiction allowed?

Y E S. Fanworks are 1001% allowed and would honestly make me the happiest person ever ;;V;;

Master List

Eye of the Storm - Lore of the Thunderbird.

No Mercy - Hellhound lore

Reassurance - Aedh welcomes Tristan

Locked or Free - 100+ follower Instagram DTIYS

One Being - Tristan describes the Merge

Dumb Animal - Tristan and Aedh encounter Boscha’s gang at the Knee

Tristan’s Beast Form - Reference sheet

Forces of Nature - Wildborn lore

The Thunderbird - Official model sheet

Adar Concept Art

Hellhound Reference

The Last Wildborn - Official banner

Healing - Gift art/animation for @sobsinfrench​

«—•—»

If you have any more questions for me, don’t be afraid to submit an ask, and my inbox is open if you want to reach out to me directly! I also post artwork and occasional updates to my main blog @drekasal​, so be sure to follow me there as well! Thank you all so much for reading through this, and have a wonderful day!

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- Chapter 31- An Obitine Story

There was much to discuss when the immediate battle was over. Anakin had killed Dooku, and Master Yoda insisted they have sessions to meditate together. The Sith Lord Palpatine’s trial was approaching and the Council themselves were very busy. Fortunately for Satine, Korkie was able to show Tristan a back entrance to avoid the paparazzi already showing up at the palace front steps. Tyra was allowed to accompany Mara back to the palace as well, her master discussed strategies with Satine and her advisors, and Obi-Wan went to retrieve Jynn and Lyra, as well as the birth certificates.

“Dear God, Duchess,” Prime Minister Jaru frowned, “you’ve been friends with the Jedi for over eighteen years?”

Satine gave Quinlan a nod.

“The Duchess and Master Kenobi have eighteen-year-old twins, sixteen-year-old twins, twins who are a year old-”

“Eight months.” Satine corrected.

“And,” Quinlan paused for permission, “the Duchess is expecting triplets.”

The silence was so heavy Satine wanted to punch something.

“We need to worry about the line of succession,” the Prime Minister said finally, “Parliament will have to approve your marriage.”

Satine flinched.

“They will likely join the line after you’re married,” Jaru stated, reading the signs, “but this is quite the scandal.”

Just then, Satine’s news alert buzzed. She read the headline and smiled.

“Duchess?”

“My sister has commented,” the Duchess straightened, “she supports me, saying that tradition would be against her marriage, and that we can honor tradition without sticking to outdated ideas.”

Master Vos cheered as polite applause took hold of the room.

“That is helpful,” the Prime Minister agreed, “but a press conference will be needed.”

“I have an idea,” Quinlan held up a hand, “the ancient monarchies used to hold ceremonies to welcome their new children.”

An idea clicked in Satine’s head.

“A ball,” she announced, “a ball and an old-fashioned welcoming ceremony for the triplets.”

One of her aides began taking notes.

“We should invite influential Parliament members,” another advisor added, “and the whole court.”

“Agreed,” Jaru nodded, “let’s craft the announcement.”

After that chore was done, Satine and her advisors moved on to the press conference that she and Obi-Wan would give.

“We should also like the Jedi Council for a statement,” Quinlan suggested, “saying how Obi-Wan is leaving.”

Everyone agreed this was a good idea.

Quinlan stood, “I’ll contact them now.”

The Prime Minister had three aides type up the announcement they’d crafted, as well as adding the detail about the press conference. After checking it over, Satine told more guards to be stationed around the entrances and gave the go ahead.

“The Council has agreed to say something,” Quinlan announced, coming back in, “they recommend that we set the conference for after the Sith Lord’s trial.”

“I think that is wise,” Satine agreed, “the trial is tomorrow, correct?”

“Yes,” Quinlan nodded, “and Obi-Wan is still a part of the Council.”

“He’ll have to be there,” Jaru concluded, “this will be a test of the paparazzi’s control.”

That afternoon was busy for Satine. She had a room prepared for Jynn and Lyra, as well as rooms for her older children. Naturally, this caused some drama within the staff. Fortunately, Parna, and Khaami, who had just returned from visiting her family, assured everyone that this was formal procedure and that they would get the news they were seeking at the press conference.

When Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi touched down on the palace landing pad with two toddlers there was an upspike in the rumors. Unfortunately, somehow, it had got out that Satine had made contact with Korkie’s old nanny who'd left ten years ago. This piece of knowledge seemed to confirm to everyone that the rumors were true. Still, they’d have to wait.

“Dad,” Tyra asked when the family was sitting together, “what will happen to Je’er after the trial?”

Obi-Wan smiled, “He’ll be put to death.”

“What!”

“He’s kidding,” Satine put a hand on her daughter’s arm, “don’t you worry, Tyra Satine.”

“Sorry, bad joke,” the Jedi apologized, “he’ll be questioned about his knowledge about the dark side, and then we’ll likely release him.”

Tyra nodded.

“Don’t worry, sis,” Tristan rubbed Tyra’s back, “he’ll be fine.”

“I’m wondering, children,” Satine smilled, “if we should extend ball invitations to your special friends.”

Mara gasped, her excitement clear on her face, Korkie didn’t look so sure.

“All the Jedi Council is coming,” Obi-Wan told Korkie, “and Anakin and Quinlan.”

Korkie bit her lip, “Will it stress her out?”

“Not if her father’s there,” Mara offered, “don’t worry.”

Satine was proud of the way she taught her son how to treat women. He had to be chivalrous if he was going to be a successful prince.

“Duchess,” Parna smiled, opening the door, “dinner’s ready.”

The family at dinner in one of the private dining rooms, serving themselves and laughing at each other’s jokes. Satine could hardly believe how perfect it was.

Obi-Wan’s comm beeped, “Obi-Wan, come in.”

“Anakin?”

“The Council wants you back to prepare for the trial,” Anakin sighed, “boring stuff, really.”

“Naturally,” Obi-Wan stood, “I’ll be over quickly.”

Satine pouted.

“Don’t worry, Darling,” the Jedi kissed the Duchess’ cheek, “I’ll be home after the verdict.”

“Bye, Dad!”

“Good luck!”

“See you soon!”

“Love you!

“By kids,” Obi-Wan smiled, bopping a smooch on Jynn and Lyra's heads respectively, “look after your mother.”

The Duchess did not watch the trial, but she knew that Anakin, Padme, and Je’er would be witnesses. Not to mention that the Sith Lord electrocuted a couple Jedi Masters when they came to arrest him. They had tested his blood for midichlorians and found them, connections were found to many assassins who’d killed political rivals of the Supreme Chancellor, and there was a direct comm link that when called, appeared on Count Dooku’s body.

“It was horrifying,” Obi-Wan told Satine as they crawled into bed, “his laugh, his mannerisms, he tried to manipulate Anakin right there on the spot.”

“And to think so many trusted him.” Satine frowned, disgusted.

“He was a good politician,” the Jedi sighed, “his punishment is to have his force manipulation ability taken away from him.”

Satine went wide eyed, “They can do that?”

“The Witches of Dathomir have a way,” Obi-Wan shivered, “it’s strange to think about it.”

The Duchess was silent for a moment.

“The press conference,” Satine finally said, “it’ll be just as publicized as the trial.”

“Likely even more,” Obi-Wan agreed, snuggling close to Satine, “but we don’t have to worry about that until tomorrow.”

The Duchess exhaled.

“You're nervous.”

“Yes,” Satine responded, “it’s hard to control what people will ask.”

“We could begin with our story,” the Jedi suggested, “and ask that questions be saved till later.”

That’s exactly the form the press conference took. However, Satine still considered it a nightmare. When they entered, holding hands, Satiine without a corset, the press turned into rabid animals. Khaami and Parna had to shout multiple times to get them to quiet down.

Obi-Wan began with how Master Qui-Gon and he were sent to protect the Duchess from harm during the Mandalorian Civil War, and they did so for a year.

“The Duke of Sundari and his twin sister, Padawan Tyra, were born about eight months after my coronation,” Satine jumped in, “the Duke was raised on Mandalore while his sister was sent to the Jedi Temple.”

“There are no hospital records of this, why?”

Satine sighed at the reporter, questions were supposed to be saved for later.

“Korkyrach and his sister Tyra Satine were born in the basement of the Summer Palace, there was one medical droid and my two ladies at the time.”

There was audible shock.

“Two years later,” Obi-Wan continued, “the Duchess welcomed a second set of twins, Tristan was raised by Clan Wren, and Mara was raised by the Supreis family, to which her lady belongs.”

“What about the birth certificates?” someone asked.

“The real ones are in the hands of the palace lawyers,” Satine answered, “including the ones from the births of our eight-month-old twins.”

In the midst of the stunned silence, a hand was raised.

“Where were these twins born?”

Satine grimaced, “The same room as all their siblings, with one medical droid.”

The crowd shivered.

“Jynn and Lyra, the youngest twins, were given false surnames and raised at the Jedi Temple these past months.” Obi-Wan added.

There were a couple of gasps.

“You have announced your family will host a ball and welcoming ceremony,” a reporter began, “are the dates for these set, and will the royal children be in attendance?”

“The dates are not set yet,” Satine answered, “but the children will be in attendance for both events.”

Audible scribbles were heard all over the room.

“Your Grace,” a strained voice asked, “do we have Mandalorian Jedi?”

The room got so quiet the Duchess could hear herself breathe.

“We have Mandalorian force-users,” Obi-Wan jumped in, “it is their choice whether or not they want to become Jedi.”

In the silence that followed, a reporter raised his hand, “When will the triplets be welcomed?”

Satine ground her teeth, “This fall.”

It was Marsh, Tristan and Mara were having their seventeenth birthday tomorrow and a few months after that Korkie and Tyra would be nineteen. Not to mention Jynn and Lyra would be a year old three months before the triplets were born.

“We will announce the dates of the celebrations nearer to the dates,” Obi-Wan announced, “thank you for coming.”

Khaami and Parna closed the heavy doors with an extreme huff.

“Thank God that’s over.” Satine sighed, leaning on Obi-Wan. “Let’s go,” Obi-Wan suggested, “there’s still the entire palace who will talk about us.”

The Duchess was with her seamstresses, planning her outfit for the ball when Tristan burst through the door.

“Lady Mother,” he huffed, “Auntie Padme and Uncle Anakin are on the holonews!”

Satine jumped up immediately and rushed back to her room with her son just in time for Anakin to announce his departure from the Jedi Order for his wife and children. Then, Padme kissed her husband and the crowd cheered.

“They certainly know how to steal your thunder, huh?” Tyra grinned.

Obi-Wan exhaled, “I think we’re very grateful because of that.”

Two days later, when the entire palace was busy preparing for the upcoming ball, an invitation arrived for the Duchess and her family.

“It’s from a Mr. and Mrs. Skywalker,” Mara read, wiggling her eyebrows, “they’re gonna renew their vows publicly.”

“Ahsoka must be overjoyed.” Korkie commented.

Satine snorted, “They must be trying to outdo us, Ben.”

Obi-Wan laughed and planted a kiss on Satine’s cheek.

“No one could beat us,” the Jedi winked, “just look at how many children we have.”

“Oh no,” Tyra gasped, “what will we wear?”

“My closet is your closet.” the Duchess gestured.

Mara and Tyra giggled and began jumping up and down. Jynn and Lyra giggled at their sisters’ foolishness.

“Speaking of the ceremony,” Obi-Wan asked, “when is it?”

“In three days,” Tristan said, taking the invitation from Mara, “I’m sure the paparazzi is ecstatic.”

“Most certainly.” Satine agreed.

“The ball is in a week,” Obi-Wan frowned, “do you think-”

“I’m sure the paparazzi will have forgotten all about the vows then,” Satine assured her Jedi, “they have a very short attention span.”

The Vow Ceremony was beautiful, and the entire Kryze family looked their best. All in blue and purple, they sat in the front row next to Master Fisto, Master Secura, Master Ti, and Ahsoka. The latter grinned so much her face would likely hurt afterwards.

Up at the front, Anakin stood with his half-brother Owen, and his wife Beru, behind him. Padme’s sister Sola and her husband waited on the other side of the aisle.

“She’s coming!” 

There was a collective gasp when Padme entered, each of her parents holding an arm of hers. The Senator looked overjoyed and glorious in her fabulous white gown. 

“Ani.”

“Padme.”

Satine almost cried at their reception of each other, they were all giddy and sweet.

“Anakin,” Master Yoda turned, “something to say, have you?”

Master Skywalker grinned, “Padme, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re so amazing and wonderful. There are so many magnificent adjectives that you are, but none more so than mother.”

Here, members of the crowd sighed.

“I know you’ll be the most marvelous role model to our twins, and I can only hope I bring you as much happiness as you bring me. I love you.”

“Anakin,” Padme grinned, “you have a tendency to run off into danger.”

Some members of the crowd who knew the Jedi Master best laughed.

“But I couldn’t love you any less for all the good you do for the galaxy, even if you have a certain charming disregard for the rules.”

“True, this is.” Master Yoda agreed.

The crowd laughed again.

“Ani, I love you, and both the twins and I can’t wait to see you as a dad.”

The crowd cheered and clapped politely as the couple kissed. 

“Congratulations,” Satine kissed Padme’s cheeks when they made it to the front of the reception line, “I’m glad to see you both so happy.”

Anakin grinned at Obi-Wan, “I set the stakes pretty high, didn't I, Master?”

Obi-Wan nodded, “Good job, Anakin.”

There was dancing after the ceremony, but Satine and Padme sat happily chatting with plates of food and their Jedi.

“Ben,” Satinie elbowed Obi-Wan, “Korkie is looking at Kara, convince Khi-Adi not to kill him.”

Anakin snorted.

Obi-Wan stood, “On it.”

“One day, Ani,” Padme looked at her husband, “you’ll have to help our son.”

“I’m worried about how many people will be in love with my daughter,” Anakin confessed, “I’m sure she’ll be as beautiful as her mother.”

“Aw.”

Parna and Khaami sat with Padme’s ladies discussing happy times and giggling over Jynn and Lyra.

“It’s wonderful isn’t it?” Padme sighed.

“Yes,” Satine agreed, “the treaty signing was yesterday, wasn’t it?”

“I’m actually surprised at how smoothly it went,” Padme answered, “very pleased however.”

It pained the Kryze family to say goodbye, but Obi-Wan and Satine had much to do for the ball, so they bid goodbye to their friends and went home.

“Good job, Korkie,” Tyra smacked her brother on the back, “I think Master Mundi doesn’t hate you!”

“Korkie was perfectly civil,” Obi-Wan agreed, “although your fear was endearing.”

“How-”

“The force, Korkie.”

“Oh.”

The next few days were filled with dress fittings, menu checking, and formal etiquette training for the children who needed it.

“What do you mean I can’t dance the Mandalorra,” Mara frowned, “you danced it with the Count?”

“It has a negative reputation,” Satine huffed at her daughter, “that dance is best done with fiances.”

Mara stuck her tongue out at her mother.

“Don’t do that at the ball.” the Duchess warned.

Mara laughed.

“Satine,” Parna peeked her head in the dance studio, “the children's friends are here.”

Mara squealed.

“Bring them here, Parna,” Satine smiled, “and inform my children.”

Boba Fett looked extremely uncomfortable at the formalities used to address him.

“Mara!”

Satine smiled as the bounty hunter picked her daughter up and spun her around.

“Now only if you can do that in a dance.” the Duchess pointed out.

“Your Grace,” Boba bowed, “I’m honored to be invited.”

“Thank Mara,” Satine grinned, “it was her idea.”

Tyra walked in on Je’er’s arm, her smile radiant.

“Your Grace,” Je’er bowed, “it’s good to see you again.”

“Yes,” Satine nodded, “and this time you’re healthy.”

Tyra giggled.

“Your Grace.”

Satine turned.

“Princess Sori,” the Duchess matched a curtsy, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Your Grace is most kind, inviting my mother and I,” Sori stood, “we’re quite excited.”

“It’s nothing at all,” Satine winked, “I’m looking forward to seeing Cousin Miraj.”

“Sori, you’re here?”

“Yes,” the Princess blushed, “I’m here.”

Tristan took her hand and kissed it.

“Woah, look at that.” Tyra teased.

“Do I have to do that?” Boba asked.

Mara laughed.

“Your Grace?”

Satine walked straight up to Kara and kissed her on the cheeks.

“Kara, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

The Jedi’s daughter looked pleasantly surprised, “Thank you, I can’t believe I’m here.”

“It’s magical isn’t it?” Korkie agreed, putting an arm around Kara’s waist.

Satine clapped, “Children, get ready to waltz.”

Boba looked horrified, “Waltz?”

The room laughed. It was a marvelous moment for Satine, instructing her grown children and their partners in a traditional Mandalorian Waltz. Korkie and Tristan already knew it, and lifted their partners into the air with varying degrees of success. Tyra and Je’er took a little longer to learn the steps than Mara and Boba, but they did do a successful lift first.

“Alright, now,” Satine smiled, “break time.”

That evening Obi-Wan got to hear all about Satine’s adventures while he complained about eating traditional Mandalorian food.

“It wouldn't hurt you to learn the waltz.”

“What do I need to waltz for,” Obi-Wan shrugged, “we already have nine children.”

Satine laughed.

“Do you feel them yet?” the Jedi asked.

The Duchess sighed, “Sylvian is a little stinker. He and Jacen wrestle while their sister and I try to sleep.”

Obi-Wan’s face melted, “You can tell them apart?”

“Yes, Ben,” Satine placed her Jedi’s hand on her stomach, “they're quite rambunctious.”

“We still haven’t picked a girl’s name out yet.” Obi-Wan pointed out.

“We’ll find one.” Satine assured.

Her ball gown was glorious. The entire family was going in white, and they would look magnificent. Satine’s dress was an ivory ball gown embroidered with silver lilies and pearls. It was wide like the dresses of the Ancient Queen Victoria, and was held up by her shoulders, which were covered in lace. Over all of this, Satine wore a deep purple velvet robe also embroidered with silver. It had a lengthy train too, something the Duchess absolutely adored. Then, to top it off, she wore the blue sash of the monarch and all her medals.

Satine met her daughters in the jewel room.

“Oh, Lady Mother, look at us!”

Tyra’s dress was the same style as Satine’s, except her robe was Kryze blue and her embroidery was gold. She wore a purple sash and slim dancing slippers. Mara wore a periwinkle robe over her ivory and gold dress. Her shoes and sash matched that of her sister’s, but naturally, she wore her Kryze brooch. Jynn and Lyra, the precious angels, were wearing little salmon pink robes over their chiffon tea-length dresses, which were also white with gold embroidery. Their little purple sashes were adorable.

“You look lovely, girls.” Satine smiled.

“The jewels in this room, Lady Mother!” Mara gasped.

Tyra and Mara wore multiple necklaces, chokers, and bracelets, all gold and white to match their outfits.

“I see you have the Warrior’s Eye,” Satine smiled at Tyra, “I remember giving that to you.”

“I never take it off.” Tyra nodded.

Jynn and Lyra were each given a string of pearls for their necks, and they looked every part of princesses.

“And you, Lady Mother?” Mara prodded.

Khaami cleared her throat, she and Parna were standing with the Jewel Master, a chest between them. Everyone in the room gasped when the ancient case was unlocked.

“Is that-”

“The pearl-drop tiara,” Mara gasped while Tyra fanned herself, “gifted to Queen Mara by Zagreus the Second of Zygerria!”

Satine performed a regal curtsy and Khaami placed the crown on her head, Parna held up a mirror.

“Exquisite, Your Grace,” the Jewel Master smiled, “we have the matching accessories ready.”

Her necklace was a silver chain of diamonds and crystals hanging low against her bodice. She had pearl bracelets and white satin gloves.

“Pierre,” Satine turned to the Royal Jeweler, “I wish my daughters to wear Kokoshnik tiaras.”

The girls old enough to understand this request squealed.

The Jewel Master bowed, “Right away, Your Grace, if the Princesses will follow me.”

Tyra wore a headdress with cerulean gems to match her robe and Mara wore purple garnets in between her golden latticework.

“And the little ones?” Pierre asked.

“Silver headbands for them.” Satine suggested.

The Duchess and her daughters met the rest of their family in the hallway behind the grand doors that led to the ballroom.

“Gorgeous, Lady Mother.” Korkie smiled.

He was wearing a white version of his uniform, with a purple sash with a blue line through it to designate him as heir. He also wore medals, as did Tristan over his white uniform, but he had significantly less.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan smiled, “you look heavenly.”

“Thank you, darling,” the Duchess smiled, “you get to lead me into the ball this evening.”

The Jedi kissed Satine’s hand, “I’m honored.”

Korkie took Tyra’s right hand while she held Jynn in her left. Mara held Lyra in her left hand and placed her right in Tristan’s. Satine nodded at Parna, who snuck away to find the announcer.

“Wait till you’re announced.” Satine whispered.

Lyra giggled.

“Her Grace, the Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore, Second of her Name and Lady Krewella, escorted by the Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

The announcer took a large breath, “His Grace Korkyrach Kryze, Duke of Sundari, Her Royal Highness, Tyra Satine, Princess Royal of Mandalore, His Royal Highness Prince Tristan of Keldabe, Her Royal Highness Princess Mara of Mandalore, Her Royal Highness Princess Jynn of Mandalore, and Her Royal Highness Princess Lyra of Mandalore!”

[rayne-storm]

Day 10! Describe your characters relationships with each other and/or if you've already done that, then which relationship is the most enjoyable to write?

Arthur - Guinevere - Lancelot: they're married, and are very much in love with each other. They wade through all the rumours and nasty comments, about how this sort of relationship isn't supposed to work, about how one simply has to be a third wheel, etc. They're stronger for it, honestly. They help each other work through their individual problems, their traumas, and are happy to co-parent Mordred and Galahad. Their relationship is built on love, trust, respect, and communication.

Mordred-Galahad: love at first sight, and growing up close to each other only fueled the attraction. They're the closest of friends and always seem to know what the other is thinking. Some people assume they are brothers, despite their differing appearances, but they are more than that. They're soulmates.

Arthur-Mordred-Morgana: They aren't really one functional familial unit, but Arthur makes sure that Morgana is happy and fulfilled at Camelot, very much seeing her as his elder sister rather than a lover (that whole mess was very awkward to untangle), and Mordred harbours love for the both of them. As he grows older, he sees Arthur's imperfections, but also recognizes that the Boy King didn't have any real father figures in his life save for Merlin.

Merlin-Arthur: Merlin views Arthur sort of as an adopted son, without using so many words, feeling both kindred and protective, but also estranged. He loves Arthur, but is also a being different in nature from Arthur. Arthur has a deep love and respect for Merlin, but again wouldn't necessarily articulate it as parental.

Merlin-Mordred: Merlin is basically a wise Grandfather, or really cool uncle to Mordred. Teaching him how to control the magic inherent in his blood, his fey wildness, and to harness that power in productive, healthy, positive ways. He foresees little, these days, but for this boy he knows greatness awaits.

Lancelot-Galahad: their relationship is healthy, and even if he's not very big on public displays of affection, Lancelot shows Galahad how much he cares, and how much he loves and supports him. Galahad comes to see how much weight is on his father's shoulders, and realizes (much like Mordred with Arthur), that Lancelot is just trying to make the best of what he's been given, with the whole raised-by-merfolk-and-water-spirits thing.

Tristan-Gawain: best friends, brothers in arms, the Pippin and Merry of the bunch. Would die for each other.

Tristan-Arthur: Tristan brings a great deal of levity to Arthur's serious life, and is the one that introduced him to Guinevere. Tristan is loyal to Arthur, far more than it may appear on first glance, but Arthur feels the same way. Old friends.

Gawain-Arthur: Sharing an upbringing in a more magical way, Gawain and Arthur have a sort of almost sibling energy, but the kind that's mellow and respectful more than volatile. They are happy to just be in a room together, finding solace in the quiet of the woods or by a fire.

Tristan-Guinevere: prankster siblings (but not related). They love to go on adventures together, much to the amusement (and strife) of their respective spouses. There's also a loving warmth to them, a closeness and understanding that's refreshing some days.

Gawain-Lancelot: again, magical upbringing unites them in a weird way, but also a passion for combat arts. Lancelot likes to craft weaponry, and Gawain is happy to help him design and practice with them. They also (secretly) share a love for romantic poetry.

Merlin-Guinevere: some rumours claim that Merlin himself gifted Guinevere with her keen sense of aim, and bows fletched with peacock feathers that will never miss their targets. Whether or not that's true, the two have a deep, loving bond. Guin frequently seeks his advice, and is a fair hand at some minor magical tricks, and he sees a rebellious daughter-figure in her. He sees her wit and intelligence, and applauds her and the boys' attempts at mingling needle arts and magical energy.

Lancelot-Excalibur: weird half-sibling energy.

[wonderful-writer]

13 - Wartime

Summary: The camp prepares to make a trip to the ocean, but the grounder army puts a stop in their plans, forcing them back to camp to fight a war.

Word Count: 2.94k

Based Off: 01x13, “We Are Grounders, Part Two”

Everyone outside of the dropship prepared to leave while Clarke cauterized Raven’s wound and Finn held her hand. 

“That should stop the external bleeding.” She put the knife in a basin and Finn started talking.

“I don’t understand, how did Murphy get a gun?” He asked.

“Long story,” Bellamy said. 

“We got lucky,” Raven moaned. “If Murphy hit the fuel tank instead of me, we’d all be dead.”

“Wait, there’s rocket fuel down there?” Clarke asked the brunette. “Enough to build a bomb?”

“Enough to build 100 bombs.” Raven replied. “If we had any gunpowder left.” 

“Let’s get back to the reapers.” Bellamy lifted Lincoln’s book to show a sketch of one. “Maybe they’ll help us.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” You asked. 

“Not this enemy.” Clarke said. “We saw them. Trust me, it’s not an option.”

“There’s no time for this.” Finn chimed in. “Can she walk or not?”

“No.” Clarke responded. “We have to carry her.”

“The hell you will.” Raven tried to sit up. “I’m good to go.” Her attempts at sitting up were feeble, and she put herself in more pain trying to do so.

“Hey,” Clarke got her attention. “Listen to me. That bullet is still inside you. If, by some miracle, there’s no internal bleeding, it might hold until we get somewhere safe. But you are not walking there. Is that clear?”

Raven nodded and laid back down on the table while Finn went to get the stretcher to put her on. 

“Can’t run away fast enough, huh? That’s brave, real brave.” Bellamy commented in a snide tone.

Finn turned at his comment and walked back over to the man. “Dying in a fight you can’t win isn’t brave, Bellamy. It’s stupid.”

“Spoken like every coward who’s ever run from a fight.” Bellamy walked closer to Finn as he spoke, getting dangerously close. The tension in the room was high due to their verbal fight, and you could feel that this was going to escalate quickly.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You spoke up from beside Raven. “You two need to stop. We have to go.”

“If they follow, it’s a 120 mile walk to the ocean.” Bellamy informed you. 

“Like I said,” You moved closer to Bellamy. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take to make sure my people don’t die.”

“Look, we’re wasting time.” Finn interrupted. “If he wants to stay, he can stay.” 

“No, he can’t,” Clarke replied, but Finn was already out of the dropship. She turned and walked up to Bellamy to try and get him to come along.

“We can’t do this without you, Bellamy.” She told him.

“What do you want me to say, Clarke?” He replied angrily and with a steeled expression, keeping his gaze looking over her shoulder.

“I want you to say that you’re with us.” She said.

“Those kids out there,” You stepped in to help persuade him. “They listen to you, Bellamy.” 

“They’re lining up to go. They clearly listen to you more.” He countered. 

“We gave them an easy choice.” Clarke said. “But 5 minutes ago they were willing to fight and die for you. You inspire them.”

He looked up at the doors, and then to you without saying a word. “I’m afraid we’re gonna need that again before this day is through.”

She turned and walked out of the ship, while you took her spot in front of Bellamy and out a reassuring hand on his arm. “Come with us, Bellamy. You’re one of us, and like it or not, we need you.”

Not long after, everyone was ready to leave camp. The gunners were leading the walk to protect against any attacks, while the others stayed behind them and carried what they could. You and Clarke waited until everyone else was out of the camp to make your way to Bellamy, who was still looking at the ship. 

“You did good here, Bellamy.” Clarke assured.

“18 dead.” He said.

“And 82 alive.” You countered. “You did good.”

He nodded and tossed a bucket of water onto the fire, throwing it to the ground and walking away with you and Clarke. 

You’d walked a fair bit, keeping your hand on your sword’s hilt in case there was someone you needed to fight. It wasn’t very long until the group stopped moving, and from where you, Bellamy and Clarke were, you couldn’t see what was going on. It was then that you heard a loud thump and Jasper scream out that the grounders attacked did everyone rush to get back to camp.

You and Bellamy directed everyone inside the walls of camp and everyone moved to their own stations or foxholes, prepping hastily for the battle. You helped to close the door and unsheathed your sword while Bellamy was at the watchtower. 

“Lincoln said the scouts would be the first to arrive.” Clarke said, directing her sentence to Finn.

“If it’s just scouts then we can fight our way out.” Octavia chimed in. “That’s what Lincoln would do.”

“We’re done doing what that grounder would do.” Bellamy jumped down from his post. “We tried it and now Drew’s dead. Do you wanna be next?”

“That grounder saved our lives.” Finn defended. “I agree with Octavia. For all we know there’s one scout out there.”

“Yeah, a scout with insanely good aim.” Jasper said. 

“Clarke, Y/n, we can still do this.” Octavia pleaded. 

“Looking at you guys, what’s it gonna be?” Bellamy asked you. “Run and get picked off out in the open, or stand and fight back?”

You took a mental step back and assessed the situation. If you agreed with Octavia and fought your way to the ocean, you might not make it out alive. The grounders would surround you and you’d be in their territory, vulnerable to a major loss. If you stayed in camp and tried to do what you could to fight, you’d have a better chance of surviving and you’d likely lose less people to the grounders. 

You looked at Clarke and voiced your opinion as she looked out into the woods before jumping back down. “I say we’re staying. If we use everything we’ve got and fight like hell, we could actually make it out alive.”

“Clarke,” Finn grabbed the blonde’s arm. “If we’re still here when Tristan gets here-”

“Lincoln said ‘scouts’. More than one. He told us to get home before the scouts arrived. Finn, they’re already here.” She turned to Bellamy. “Looks like you’ve got your fight.”

“Okay then.” He spoke loudly to address the other campers. “This is what we’ve been preparing for. Kill them before they kill us.”

“Gunners, to your posts!” You shouted beside him. “Use the tunnels to get in and out. From now on, the gate stays closed.”

You watched everyone move into position as Octavia did, too, but Bellamy caught her arm, telling her she wasn’t a gunner and she defended herself before moving to the exit to help with the battle. 

“So, how the hell do we do this?” Clarke asked. You all moved into the dropship to explain the plan and information you had to her, Finn, and Raven.

“We’ve got 25 rifles with 20 rounds each, give or take.” Bellamy said. “Roughly 500 rounds of ammo.”

“While you two were gone, we made some improvements.” You took over. “Thanks to Raven, the gully is mined.” 

“Partially mined.” Raven corrected painfully. “Thanks to Murphy.”

“Still, it’s the main route in. If the grounders use it, we’ll know.” Bellamy told the room. 

“She also made grenades.” You picked one up to show Clarke and Finn.

“There’s not many,” Clarke commented.

“Again. Thank you, Murphy.” Raven said sarcastically. 

“We’ll make them count. If the grounders make it through the front gate, guns and grenades should force them back.” Bellamy pointed to the scale model of the front gate on the table. 

“And then?” Clarke asked worriedly.

“Then, we close the door and pray.” Raven said. 

“And pray what? That the ship keeps them out?” She asked. “Because it won’t.”

“Then let’s not let them get past the front gate.” You said, looking at the scale model and gripping your jacket sleeve in hopes to relieve some stress. 

“All foxholes, listen up.” Bellamy spoke into the radio. “Keep your eyes and ears open. Inflict casualties, as many as possible. You can hold them off long enough to make them turn back. That’s the plan.”

“That’s always your plan.” Finn said. “Just like the bomb at the bridge.”

“Damn right. You got a better idea?” 

“I think I do.” You spoke up. “Raven, you said there’s fuel in those rockets, right? Enough to build 100 bombs.”

“I also said we’ve got no gunpowder left.” She told you. 

“I don’t want to build a bomb.” You said. “I want to blast off.” 

“Draw them in close, fire the rockets. A ring of fire.” Clarke explained simply, smirking along with Raven. 

“Barbequed grounders. I like it.” Bellamy agreed.

“Will it work?” Finn asked Raven.

“The wiring is a mess down there, but yeah.” She turned to you and Bellamy. “If you give me enough time, I’ll cook ‘em real good.” 

You smirked at her and nodded, liking that you had an even better plan than what was formed before. Clarke and Finn went underneath the floor of the dropship to look for the ignition system while Raven sat near the floor entrance and worked on repairing the electrical board, while you and Bellamy headed out to prep for the impending and inevitable war.

It was nightfall when you heard the drums. You were by the fire, sharpening your own and other people’s blades in case it came time to use them. You looked to Bellamy, who seemed to have the same idea as you, and ran to the main foxhole. 

“Where’s Octavia?” He asked Miller.

“No idea. She left 5 minutes ago, didn’t say where to.” He responded. “She thinks she’s a damn samurai.”

“Do you see anything?” You asked, sword drawn.

“No.” Monroe replied frustratedly. “What the hell are they waiting for?”

“The longer they wait, the better. This is about buying time for Raven.” He told her.

“I see them! They’re moving!” Sterling’s voice cut through the air, slightly staticy. “I count 2, 3- no, wait, there’s more. I don’t know man, there’s too damn many of them!”

A gunshot rang through the air and Bellamy asked Miller who was on the radio. “Sterling, I think. South foxhole.”

More gunshots rang out as Bellamy pulled out his radio. “South foxhole, report now.”

“Yeah, yeah, We’re okay. They didn’t attack. It’s like shooting at ghosts.”

You kept your eyes on the terrain ahead of you, seeing grounders move across your field of vision. “There!” 

“I see them!” Monroe shouted, shooting at the grounders. Miller joined her and Bellamy shouted at them to stop.

“Reload, now.” He commanded, as they were both out of bullets. 

“Those were our last clips.” Miller told him.

“We should- we should fall back.” Monroe suggested, panicked.

“No.” Bellamy said. “If this position falls, they’ll walk right through the front door.”

You unsteadily readied your sword as Bellamy positioned himself to look through the scope of his gun. You kept your stance and listened to the radio, Jasper confirming that the land mines worked.

“Jasper, we need you in the dropship, now.” Clarke’s voice came through.

“Negative.” Bellamy responded. “We can’t give up the west woods.”

“The west woods are mined, Bellamy. The grounders just figured that out.” Clarke said. “Jasper, get in here.” 

“All gunners, listen up.” Jasper spoke. “The grounders are not attacking. They’re making us waste bullets. Don’t shoot when they’re running laterally.”

“Jasper’s right,” Bellamy confirmed. “Don’t fire until you’re sure it’s an attack. Repeat, do not fire until you are sure.”

Jasper then told Clarke that he was coming to help out, and you looked around worriedly. Something was feeling off to you. You didn’t know what it was, but your gut instincts were telling you to flee, to leave now and save yourself. But you knew to go against them, that you had to stay and fight. This was your battle, too. 

Then it came. The gunfire, the battlecry. Grounders were headed straight towards you. You swung your sword as they ran for you, Monroe falling back with Miller. You slashed one grounder's throat and spun as you did so, plunging your sword into another grounder’s chest. 

One of them attacked Bellamy and pushed him to the ground, Miller attempting to go after him, but failing when another grounder shoved his spear into Miller’s shoulder. Bellamy managed to fight the grounder, but failed when he was pushed to the ground again, the grounder’s hands tightening themselves around Bellamy’s neck. 

You were busy fighting one of the other grounders and couldn’t help, but once you had killed him, you saw Octavia shove her sword through the back of the grounder’s head and straight through his eye, saving her brother.

“Admit it, you want one.” She said, panting. Before she could help her brother up off the ground, an arrow fired from behind her and struck her in the leg, causing her to falter and fall, Bellamy catching her. 

“Miller! Fall back! Now!” He stood and grabbed Octavia by the arms to support her. ��Can you walk?”

She stumbled and he put her arm over his shoulder. “O, hey. Hold on to me. Let me get you behind that wall.” He carried her bridal style and you followed behind, serving as cover for the siblings in case any grounders tried to attack them while they were vulnerable.

When you neared the gate, you heard screaming and metal clashing, causing Bellamy and you to skid to a halt. 

“What is that?” Octavia asked.

“I don’t know, but they’re distracted.” Her brother responded, placing her against a tree. “Let’s move.” 

“We’ll never make it.” Octavia panted. “Leave me. I’ll find another way.”

“No way in hell are we leaving you here.” You said. 

“Octavia!” Lincoln said from behind you as he broke through the trees. A small smile came to your lips as they hugged. 

“You did this?” Bellamy asked, nodding his head towards the reapers and grounders fighting one another.

“With Finn.” He told Bellamy. He looked down at the broken arrow in Octavia’s leg. “It’s deep.”

A grunt came from nearby and Lincoln spoke quickly. “I can help you, but you have to come with me now.” 

“Go.” Bellamy said. “Let him help you.”

“No way,” Said Octavia. “I have to see this through.”

“You can’t walk and we can’t get you to the dropship.” You intervened. 

“They’re right. This fight is over for you.” Lincoln told Octavia. 

“O. O, listen to me.” Bellamy said. “I told you my life ended the day you were born. The truth is, it didn’t start until then. So go with him. I need you to live. Besides, we’ve got this.”

You put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled at her, letting go so she could hug Bellamy and say their own goodbyes before being carried away by Lincoln so she could remain safe. 

You both paused for a minute until the shouting began again, revealing that the grounders were advancing on the wall. You and Bellamy picked up the pace and ran to the entrance. Clarke and Finn spotted the both of you, screaming for you to run, which you did. Bellamy picked up a gun and attempted to shoot at Tristan, but it was out of ammo. 

You didn't make it very far from the entrance when four grounders closed in on you. You managed to take down the first one with relative ease, slicing his throat. One of the others attempted to bash your head in but you sliced his arm, causing him to fall with pain. You kicked him over forcefully and plunged your sword into his heart.

You spun around to face another grounder, thrusting yourself and your sword forward, stabbing him in the stomach. You watched the dropship door close, and you feared you were running out of time. You froze in your spot, but not for very long when the last grounder that had surrounded you shoved his dagger all the way into your right side, more towards your back. 

The grounder left you once you collapsed to your knees, attempting to tear the dropship down to nothing with the rest of the army. You knew the blast was coming soon, so you dragged yourself to the exit and attempted pulling yourself to your feet. You groaned in pain, coughing at the sting of the blade. ‘I’ve been here for what, a month? And I’ve already been stabbed twice.’

You stumbled to the path that led out to the main gate as the rumbling of fire and the heat touched your skin. You slowly walked as the energy further drained from your body, feeling blood drip down your skin. The knife moved and tore your flesh every time you made a movement, but you knew it was important that you got to the main gate. You needed to survive. You needed to live. 

You felt yourself getting lighter with every step, pushing through bushes and shrubbery. A sigh escaped your dry and pale lips as you saw the treeline, the wall. You reached out to stabilize yourself on it, but you fell to your knees instead, collapsing as darkness surrounded you. Your torso and head hit the ground with a thud, but no pain was felt when you hit the dirt. You just closed your eyes, feeling at peace. 

Taglist:  @soullessbabee​ | @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis​ | @dummythiccwitch​ | @sireddobrev​ | @gxvrielle​ | @hurricane-abigail

[fuckyeaharthuriana]

Top arthurian tv shows in preference order (26 entries)

Now that “Cursed” is in the game, I decided to re-order my favorite tv shows!

This was my god tier/not good shows list:

So welcome to the slighty updated list, now with Cursed, and small explanations

GOD TIER

01. The Legend of King Arthur (BBC): BEST arthurian show ever. It is the closest to Malory. It has a scheming, pleasant, smart Morgana who still manages to be sympathetic (I was rooting for her), some very nice scheming Mordred, some heartbreaking scenes, and I cried because of Bors, so be warned. The show goes a bit quickly for some parts because it tries to tell the whole story from baby Arthur to his death, so some characters end up becoming secondary (ex. Gawain or Lancelot and Guinevere and their love, which I didn’t mind too much).

02. Kaamelott: This tv show is amazingly heartbreaking? It starts slow, mostly comedic sketches (and I am not even sure the first seasons are subtitled), but continues quite strongly by adding more and more drama. I’d suggest starting from season 4 if you are here for the plot more than the comedy! The main character is Arthur, who plays the role of the classic straight man in comedy, at least at the beginning, but ends up on a character development journey that I loved to pieces.

03. Arthur et les enfants de la Table Ronde: this animated series is absolutely adorable (and I am slowly making subtitles here). The story revolves around young Arthur (only a few know of his destiny) and his friends: princess Guinevere, Gawain, Morgana and Tristan. Mordred and Morgause are also in the show as the classic mayhem villains, and Uther is the king... and pretty awful for a kids show! Every episode is lovely.

04. The Adventures of Sir Lancelot: I am probably biased, because this was one of my first arthurian tv shows, but this is a great fun family show with episodic stories where Lancelot just saves the day! There is nothing too deep (not even the Lancelot and Guinevere story), but each episode is fun and independent from the others.

TOP TIER

05. Camelot (Starz): This show had the misfortune of coming out at the wrong time, as I believe it would be much more successful nowadays, so it is only one season. The story set up a great Morgana, both pleasant, sympathetic and ambitious, trying to kill the less charismatic Arthur (who is probably the weak point of the show). Other great characters are peppered around (a great Merlin, interesting Igraine, adorable Kay, interesting Gawain), but the show spends a little too much time on the Guinevere-Arthur-Guinevere’s husband triangle and it drags the show down. Still, all the scenes with Morgana were gold!

06. The Mists of Avalon: A good miniseries of a less good book. The miniseries ends up making Guinevere slightly more sympathetic, which helped a lot, and cutting some of the plot related to paganism vs Christianity (which also helped). The story is the classic (classic because Mists of Avalon made it popular!) Morgana’s journey, from her childhood to Arthur’s death, with some interesting wrapping up of Arthur’s destiny and Morgana desperately trying to fix things.

07. The Adventures of Sir Galahad: A very old fun show which is more like a very long movie (one single story over different episodes, I think 7? If I remember correctly?). The old age is quite prominent (the way the show handles the continuous “Galahad is in trouble... Galahad manages to escape!”), but it is still good content for the Galahad fans! Furthermore, there is a lot of Mordred too. Basically, Galahad has to guard Excalibur for a night, when the sword disappears, and Galahad has to look for it.

08. The Boy Merlin: A very underrated show, maybe because it is quite short, but this is pretty good. It’s just a season of young child Merlin growing up with his adoptive family (his mother had to give him away) and his grandmother teaching him magic. It is quite wholesome, so expect the fluffiest adorable family and young Merlin slowly learning about his own destiny and future (lady of the lake also makes an appearance).

09. Cursed (Netflix): A new tv show about Nimue (hopefully it will have a season 2) deciding to stand up and fight for her people (the fay) with the use of a mythical Sword. The Sword (cursed sword) concept is quite interesting and I greatly enjoyed that, Nimue is a bit bland as a character, but the show has some great secondary characters like Morgana, Arthur and other spoilery characters and all of them have their personal arc, as well. Also kudos for having the first queer character in a tv show with a wlw Morgana!

10. Prince Valiant (animated series): An animated series about Prince Valiant and how he arrived at King Arthur’s court to reclaim his own kingdom and name. This show is quite good, with some interesting arcs and doesn’t chicken out from rounding up the secondary characters, in particular Guinevere, Gawain and Merlin.

MID TIER

11. Arthur of the Britons: This show follows the adventures of Arthur and his adoptive brother Kay, in a very historical settings. Don’t expect medieval castles or knightly armors, but a Celtic village and Arthur going on different adventures to help his clan or fight Saxons (or compete with Kay, who is an amazing character in this show). Sadly, Ector, Arthur and Kay are the only arthurian characters in the whole show. 

12. Trollhunters: An animated series with three main parts (part 3: Wizards is coming out soon). The arthurian themes are secondary but will probably increase with the new season, and, in general, the show is quite enjoyable. It tells the adventures of human Jim Lake who is chosen to become a trollhunter and goes on various adventures to help “the good trolls” and defeat the villains, alongside his friends. Morgana is one of the main villains of the series, and Merlin instead works with Jim (but the show is not as black and white as it seems, and Merlin is definitely not a great character). 

13. The Librarians: This is another ancillary arthurian show, just like Trollhunters. It is based on the movies but focuses on new characters so you won’t need to watch the movies. It follows the adventures of a group of people (found family trope!) who have to protect The Library, a place that keeps all magical artifacts. Galahad is one of these people and a main character, and absolutely one of the best parts of the show. Morgana and Lancelot also make an appearance.

14. Fate/Apocrypha: an anime in the Fate universe, but can be watched independently from the others as this is an AU story. It follows the adventures of a group of characters who summons Servants (historical and mythical figures) to help them in a ritual war to find the Holy Grail. While the show is set in modern times, there are arthurian characters among these summoned Servants and Mordred is one of them. Mordred is a great character here and it is interesting to see the father/son relationship he develops with the guy who summoned him. Plus, there are some arthurian flashbacks from Mordred’s times!

15. King Arthur (anime): I haven’t finished this anime yet (and I am slowly subtitleing it) but I love it! It flattens out a lot of arthurian plot points, and ends up mixing them up together to get a classic “Arthur goes on a quest with his arhturian friends” story. Arthur leaves to save his kingdom after finding out he is Uther’s son, and various arthurian characters join him (ex. Tristan, Percival, Lancelot). The Arthur and Lancelot relationship is particularly interesting as Arthur initially dislikes Lancelot, as he thinks Lancelot’s family caused Uther’s demise. The second season of the show ends up.... weirdly, with Arthur joining new non arthurian characters to have some more adventures, so I won’t subtitle that part.

16. Merlin (1998 miniseries): A miniseries about Merlin, from his childhood to Arthur’s death. While extremely popular, and with some amazing actors and actresses, I cannot say I am a big fan. The story has some good points (there are some prophecies that really wrap up the plot quite nicely at the end, plus the concept of gods kept alive by worship is interesting), but the story in some parts is accelerated to get to the point, and.... all female characters seem obsessed by beauty, which was annoying. I have to say, my main point of dislike was actually how female characters are good (Nimue) and subservient, or not good and vain (Morgana, Guinevere, Mab).

LOW TIER

17. Merlin (BBC): This is probably at the same level of Merlin 1998 for me. While the story starts with mixing up arthurian character to give us an interesting begin point, and show us the journey that would lead to Arthur and Guinevere as king and queen, the show seems to forget its initial premise. Instead of a character journey we have “character points”. For example, we start with Morgana being all about justice, then we have Morgana evil, just like that she forgets all her previous characterization. Furthermore, the show doesn’t let the main relationship of the show (Arthur and Merlin) grow and the two ends up stuck in the same dynamic till the end, because the show was too chicken to actually turn Arthur into a good king and change the status quo (he remains anti magic for all the 5 years of his kindgom, while the prophecy said he would create a great kingdom??). Still, on the good side, the episodes are pretty comedic and light, Guinevere actually has a character arc, and the scenery is always beautiful.

18. Stargate SG-1 (arthurian seasons): Vary vaguely arthurian, just a couple of characters and names. Still, the show is fun if you enjoy sci fi, and you can directly start from season 7 (I think that’s where the new team comes in and where the arthurian seasons start). Still, don’t expect a lot of arthuriana.

19. Sir Gadabout: Okay, this is actually funny. This is a parody about a goofy knight called Sir Gadabout, in King Arthur’s court. The reason why it is so low is because I was a bit disappointed by the lack of arthurian themes and characters (I remember only Guinevere and Arthur), and the dvds were also hard to find.

20. Fate Zero: I actually enjoyed this Fate series more than the original Fate Stay Night, and Arthur (Saber) is a bit more of a character here than the Fate Stay Night anime. Still, minimal arthuriana.

21. King Arthur’s Disasters: Comedy/parody animated series about Arthur ending up in various troubles trying to impress Guinevere, who is a bit of a sexist stereotype.

22. Seven Deadly Sins: A four seasons anime (with the new season coming out soon) about mythical knights considered both terrible villains and monsters, but clearly misunderstood by history. These knights are partially arthurian, as there is Meliodas (Tristan’s father), Ban (Lancelot’s father) and Merlin (a woman, in this show). Arthur also makes an appearance as the king of a nearby kingdom and Merlin’s friend and protegee. The show is fun and light, but even for an anime the sexism is high (Meliodas is a horrible protagonist).

SHIT TIER

23. Fate Stay Night: The original Fate anime where Saber (Arthur) is summoned as a servant to fight in the modern war for the Holy Grail. She is the only arthurian character.

24. Once Upon a Time (only the arthurian episodes): The arthurian season of Once Upon a Time was a disappointment full of plot holes, forgotten storylines and villain Arthur.

25. Merlin’s Apprentice (miniseries, sequel of the 1998 one): Nah. Please.

26. Alias the Jester (animated series): this is barely arthurian. Watching it was a mistake.

[devotedwaywardangel1]

Arthur’s secret twin brother

Inspired by if Arthur had a twin sister by @caffeinatedflumadiddlebutmerlin, I just thought of some loose headcanons on how events may have been if this were the case. Named him Kay after Arthur’s adopted brother from the original/older myths of Arthurian legend.

Uther decided to give him to another noble couple who were struggling to conceive like he and Ygraine were, he couldn’t have two heirs running around the castle. He covered it up enough so only Gaius and Geoffry know who the boy really is. 

The noble couple named him Kay, they don’t tell him the truth about his birth. They grow up thankfully for Uther there non-identical 

He turns out to one of the nicest guys anybody meets. He visits the castle every now and then, the staff love him as he helps them out and manages to convince Uther that they all should have a pay rise. They do.

One of the reasons Morgana loves him, like a little brother of course, he loves sparing with her as well and thinks Gwen is the best person ever.

Arthur hates the man with a burning passion, it's out of jealousy more than anything, but Kay tries so hard to get Arthur’s approval. It takes a long time but Kay and a select few others Arthur actually treats like people.

Kay tries to get Arthur to be nicer to everyone but fails, so when Merlin becomes Arthur’s servant and Arthur’s attitude problem improves. Kay dotes on him, they become best friends easily. Arthur hates this.

“Can I have the day off?” 

“No” 

“Arthur, he works so hard for you, so give him the day off or I’ll tell Gana.”

When Gwen gets kidnapped he's gone to save before Uther even finishes telling Arthur that he can't go. Because one Gwen is the best two Uther can’t tell him he can’t and his parents aren’t there so...

That’s when he meets Lancelot for the first time and they hit it off after Lancelot figures out it is an undercover mission to rescue Gwen. It doesn’t go to plan so it is great that Arthur and Merlin show up. But he thinks that Merlin and Lancelot have something going on, so he teases Merlin without mercy.

Next time he's in Camelot the dragon attacks, he gets badly injured, severe burn marks on his left side which remain a permanent feature,  saving Merlin’s life causing him to get injured and Uther then reveals that he is actually Arthur’s younger brother. 

Arthur suddenly becomes all protective swearing to kill the dragon yet furious at everything after being denied a brother, another contender to the throne but he doesn’t care as much about that.

Merlin is confused about whether Kay could actually be the once and future king, seeing as previous behaviour from him showed that he couldn’t care less about magic, in terms of people having it and the fact he has never had a major classist view more ignorance to it really.

Morgana is pissed, at Uther even more (Kay hasn’t realised Morgana is going bad yet)

Gwen and Leon, the only rational people here don’t care what blood he has; he is still their friend, but annoyed that Kay was kept in the dark his whole life. They can’t say anything of course.

Kay doesn’t know how to process it. He’s made at his parents and Uther for lying, worried that Arthur will reject him. Morgana consoles him, that’s when he starts to notice something off with her.

Merlin tells Kay about his Magic, Kay accepts him easily. Merlin tells him almost everything they laugh and cry. He tries to convince Merlin to tell Arthur but its ultimately Merlin’s choice.

Next time he comes to Camelot Morgana takes over Camelot finds out she is his half sister, so is like :) Sister! :( Bad Sister! He also chews out merlin in private about the secrets and not telling him she has magic. 

Anyway this is how he Gwaine they should not be left alone together, mischief incarnate and brain cells should be separated. They are best friends and you can’t stop them, Arthur hates it when they talk in hushed whispers, usually cause it doesn’t end well for him

He also reunites with Elyan so casually, “Hey it's been a few years.” “Yeah sorry bout that, been busy.” “me too”

Meets Percival now known as Gwaine's future husband muscles  unlike his brother he doesn’t swoon over him. Just asks Percival to throw him, cause he thinks it's funny. Lancelot tells him off because you can’t just ask someone to throw you apparently.

They take back Camelot, Kay stays this time.

He does not trust Agravaine, he constantly tells Arthur not to trust him either but Arthur says he's family… “So was Morgana”. They don’t talk for a month

They forgive each other, Kay is still wary though

He accompanies the others to close the veil, with the intention to seal it himself but Lancelot punches him in the face to stop him and goes into the veil instead. He doesn’t forgive himself for a long time but focuses on being there for Merlin as much as he can.

Stops Merlin from killing Arthur with Gwen and Gaius. But not really because he is just laughing, but then Merlin tells him Morgana tortured him and Merlin has to stop him from trying to kill Morgana with his bare hands.

He stays with Arthur while the others go to cure the illness, since Arthur is even more protective after finding out that Kay was intending to sacrifice himself to save Camelot.

Then Shade!Lancelot comes and everything goes up in smoke and he and Merlin give a freed!Lancelot a funeral, they fail to stop Arthur from banishing Gwen causing more arguments between Arthur and Kay.

He does on a quest for a while just to take a breather for a while, he stays with the druids and teaches some how to use a sword while they teach him healing spells, the druids just love him because he’s that amusing mix between smart and incredibly stupid.

He comes back and finds Morgana took over Camelot again, with Agravaine’s help and he is PISSED. But hey Tristan and Isolde are new friends so that’s a perk to Kay. They love him.

I would like to think Kay saves Isolde so we can have just one couple alive by the end, and we can't have Kay sticking around for too long because we can’t have nice things.

Tristan and Isolde stay to honor Kay’s memory

Arthur grieves as he has just lost his little brother, only decent family member.

Merlin loses his last confidant and actually helpful advice giver

Leon loses another brother in arms

Percival talks even less

Elyan becomes wrathful

Gwaine drinks the tavern dry for a week then tries to sober up but fails, he does laugh as much

Camelot is never the same

[whumper-boi]

So good news, I finally finished with writing out the first prompt of the whump advant calender

OH MY FUCKING GOD I FORGOT TO ACTUALLY TAKE IT OUT OF DRAFTS AND POST IT SO ITS A DAY LATE LMAOO SORRY GUYS

(Note that they are ocs to my book I’m writing so don’t worry about spoiling or anything)

@whump-advent-calendar thank you, and this is for the first prompts

Y’all this was much longer then I thought it would be but oh well. Also, I was really out of it when I started this so forgive me cause it isn’t my best work.

Also sorry about the awkward spacing, was no one going to tell me there was a limit to the amount of spaces you could do?

**Blue- Martin’s texts

TW for mentions of non-con, mentions of child abuse, panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts, nearly freezing to death, hypothermia, paranoia, cursing, anxiety, mild(?) dissociation (like it’s written that it happened but he doesn’t remember it (obviously)), ptsd

This hadn’t happened since the thunderstorm incident. However, unlike that where he had been purposely locked outside in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm, he had come home early from a sleepover, and no one else was home.

Martin shivered, pulling his skully over the tips of his ears. After he realized that he lost his house key somewhere, he tried to call his father, but to no avail, as he was most likely still on a plane.

Majesty, his service dog who accompanied him on the walk home, nudged him gently on the leg. He sensed his distress, circling around him before standing at his side again.

Backtracking a little, Martin had gone over to one of his best friend Sadie’s house, with intentions to spend the night, but her having a surprise doctors appointment had made him decide to walk home with Majesty, (even in the blistering cold, he didn’t want to bother his friend’s parents) and lose his key somewhere in the process.

This wouldn’t be a problem if the spare was still there, but it wasn’t? He wondered if someone else brought it in and forgot to put it back.

His father, Oliver, and his father’s best friend, Nick, were both on a business trip and wouldn’t be back until the day after tomorrow.

He didn’t know what to call Nick, as he saw the man like another parent, but he couldn’t handle the idea of putting his trust into another adult only to be majorly fucked over again. He had been around since before Martin was born, this was true, but Molly, his mother, had also been around since he was born, and she chose his rapist over him.

So yeah, he was a little scared of letting his guard down, even if he knew Nick would never hurt him. Oliver had even made sure of this

(The two men had been telling stories about before Martin and Tristan were younger, and even before they were born.

“If we’re really reminiscing on your births, I’ll never forget when Oliver held you for the first time Mars. Mostly because your father had threatened to terminate our business partnership and friendship, and I quote, ‘cut your prick off and make you eat it’ if I ever put a hand on you.”

“I still stand by it mate,” Oliver said, cuffing Nick on the shoulder.)

And his father wasn’t really one to go back on promises, especially with Martin.

The only other person who had access to the house would be Tristan, Nick’s son and someone who was like a brother to him, but, of course, he wasn’t home, and the bitch wouldn’t answer his phone. That wasn’t a surprise though, he was probably at a house party getting slammed.

Majesty let out a small huff, nudging him in the leg again, telling him that he was going out of it again. He pet him, checking his pockets one more time before giving up.

Great, fucking brilliant. He plopped down on the stone steps leading to the front door, which were freezing, and pulled out his phone, checking for messages. None.

A gust of wind blew, making him put his phone away and curl up to try and get some feeling back into his numbing fingers and toes. It really had to be this cold on the day he decided to not wear his leather jacket.

The only thing he had to protect him from the elements was the MCR T-shirt over a black longsleeve, cargo pants that had like, seven pockets on them, Doc Marten (ha), the skully, of couse, and his headphones. Also, a ton of metal jewlrey, basically he looked like the first picture you would find if you googled “Goth looks”.

Majesty sat next to him, and he leaned into the dog, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing.

Seeing as he couldn’t do anything other than wait, he tried to get his mind off of it, by thinking about the boarding school he would be going back to in a few weeks.

The boarding school in question, was an academy for advanced people with different skills and abilities, and it wasn’t something that was easy to get into. He had gotten a scholarship for the academic part of the school, which was apparently, a very hard thing to do. They only chose the smartest of the smart, who were all adults, except for him of course.

Maybe because he had an IQ of 216, higher than everyone at the school. That seemed to raise a lot of discourse with some people who couldn’t handle the fact that a 16 year old was smarter than them.

Interestingly enough, Martin couldn’t bring himself to actually give a fuck when it came down to it, because he had the scholarship, not them.

The only person who was even close to his age was a boy named Matthew, from America. Detroit, more specifically. The two had been roommates, Matthew was in because apparently, he was a fucking amazing dancer that was scholarship worthy.

Martin hadn’t seen it, but if he got into that school it was probably mind blowing, and he would never question his ability.

Matthew had been respectful, and pretty, and he had the audacity to make Martin fall for his southern accent and obnoxiously kind words that he didn’t feel like he deserved.

He even asked him at one point.

“Well you’re a genius M, so it’s going to be lightwork for you,” Matthew said, after Martin had joked about wanting to crack the Zodiac ciphers.

“Nah, I’ll just stick to arguing with teachers and wasting away decoding video games.”

The other boy hummed. “Well, whatever you choose to do, you’re going to do good.” He put his fingers in a ‘ok’ pose, and gave a playful smirk that made him look like a meme, and then he looked up at Martin.

He couldn’t exactly tell what emotion was being portrayed on his own face at the moment, but it made Matthew’s smile drop, and he looked at him with nothing but concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, there something on my face?” he half joked, feeling it fall flat as soon as it came out of his mouth. He tried to neutralize his expression, but this only made things look worse.”

“Martin…” he hesitated. “Was it something I said?”

Yes, yes it was. He opened his mouth, then closed it, growing warm and horrifyingly, feeling tears start to well up. He had, by no means been insulted with what he said. The support and friendliness was what got to him.

The whole thing was, he had support from other people, but this felt… different. Martin felt like the people around him felt obligated to do it. Even so, he had only known Matthew for such a short time, but the american he only proved that he cared.

Maybe this was the insecurity in his brain talking, or maybe the things Seth said and did to him were finally starting to take a toll on him. He just had to know why he cared so much. Well, when in Rome right?

“Why are you so nice to me?” He asked, crossing his arms, a nervous tic that he had developed.

Matthew didn’t even look like he registered the question. “I’m...not?” What? If that wasn’t being nice then what was it?

As if the other boy could hear his question, he added: “I’m just treating you with basic decency? Like, anyone with an ounce of empathy should do.” Martin stared at him.

But holding the door? Not once telling him to shut up at his long rants? Waiting for him at the top of the stairs when he made it up first? His friends did the same, and so did his family, but they had known each other for a while, and…but Seth did it, only when he was in a good mood, only when he was feeling nice, and he just naturally assumed this was what everyone was doing. Conditionally. They were doing it because they cared?

This was hurting his head. Multiple thoughts littered his head and he couldn’t sort them out fast enough to process a coherent sentence. His logical side just straight up vanished.

Matthew walked up to him, cautiously sticking his arm out and gently grabbing Martin’s shoulder.

His head suddenly blanked, whatever he had been thinking about just stopped at the contact. “Well,” Martin laughed awkwardly, “I guess you learn something new everyday.”

The other boy gave a smile, and he thought he could spare them both the mental breakdown he would inevitably have, then the arse had to say: “You’re deserving of respect darlin’, unconditionally.”

And wonderfully, he started to cry. The more correct term would be more like, loudly sobbing, but save himself a little bit of dignity. Matthew had once again proved how amazing he was, holding him.

A loud noise sounded from somewhere, knocking him out of the memory. He felt a smile on his face though, thinking about the American. His boyfriend, seeing as two hours after he shared his entire life story, they made out on their dorm floor.

He stopped smiling when he felt his lips crack in the cold weather. Licking them didn’t help, they dried back up seconds later.

Martin stood up, shivering at the lack of movement. He tried the door again, and when that didn’t work, he called Majesty and walked to the backside of the house. It was locked. Well, it was good that they were responsible with locking doors.

He then tried the windows, but remembered that he closed them because of his hate of the cold, and locked them because of his paranoia. He thought about breaking a window, but came to the conclusion that a locksmith was most likely better.

He picked up his phone, then stopped, thinking about it. If someone he didn’t know could pick their way into the house, what’s stopping someone with a grudge doing the exact same thing?

They had cameras and an alarm system, but a short circuit somewhere around the house could disable them, or if a computer tech tapped into them…

Martin felt a weight in his chest. If a locksmith was successfully able to get the door open, then anyone could be able to get the door open, and anyone included Seth and his friends. If they ever decided they wanted to get back at him, they could get in easily.

He didn’t realize that he dropped his phone, and barely noticed when he stepped on it, looking around. Martin scanned the streets, starting to worry that Seth would have this idea, and show up.

He suddenly couldn’t breathe, now frantically looking for his stepfather’s car. He would kill Martin if he saw him, he’d hurt him and kill him.

He was tied to that bed, hands touching all over him. He didn’t want it, he begged for it to be over.

The hands were on him again. Martin swore he could feel them dragging against his skin, and he physically recoiled, tripping and falling into the grass.

He didn’t want to be back there, not again.

“Please, stop!”

“No!” He screamed at nothing, covering his head with his arms. Martin felt a sob build up, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Seth was going to find him, and even if Martin went back into the house, he’d find a way in, or break the door. He couldn't stop him, and no one would know what happened.

Martin felt something on his face, warm and wet in contrast to the cold. Then he felt something push against his chest, something that was warm. He instinctively reached out, wrapping his arms around whatever it was, shivering and still struggling to breathe.

He needed to look at the street again, see if he was coming, but the same wet feeling was on his face again.

After a couple minutes, he opened his eyes, the tears freezing against his face. He realized that it was Majesty who he was holding in his arms, and he realized that he was licking Martin’s face, just doing his job.

He pulled the Doberman closer, taking a few seconds before sitting up. Majesty instantly got up after he did, nudging his arm gently, waiting for Martin to move off the frozen grass. They both made it back to the door eventually, Martin working on clearing his mind by asking himself if it was the panic attack or the cold that was making him super tired.

He looked for his phone, stressing out until Majesty quickly trotted over and dropped it at his feet. He ignored the little bits of drool, seeing three texts and a missed call from Tristan.

Trishyfishy👀👄👀

December 14, 7:56 PM

Yo, what the fuck do you want

Jkjk, everything alright

Call me Mars.

Martin went to the contact and called, realizing he could hardly feel his hands. “Hello?” His voice trembled slightly, either from the crying or the cold, he wasn’t sure.

“Alright Martin?”

He chuckled hollowly. “Ah, I got locked out of the house.”

“Are you alright? You sound like you’re crying.”

“I got locked out of the fucking house Tristan. It’s like, -2 degrees out here.” There was a beat of silence.

“I’m on the way back, so uh, just… hang in there?” He rolled his eyes, petting Majesty. “I’m like, fifteen minutes away.”

He heard Tristan laugh at something he didn’t hear through the phone. “Where did you even go?”

“To a party, (figures) but some 9th year threw up in the punch bowl and two kids got in a fight over some stupid bet. It got boing. What about you? I thought you were with Sadie.”

“I was, but she had an appointment and I didn’t want to go so I just walked home instead, she lives like, half an hour away, so I didn’t, like, you know.” Majesty put his head on his lap, letting Martin stim by petting, effectively keeping him calm and awake.

Tristan hummed over the phone, but didn’t say anything. His phone buzzed in his hand, and he looked down, seeing that Matthew was texting him.

“I’ll call you back Trish.” He waited for a response, then hung up.

American.

December 14, 8:24 PM

I just saw a this lady with a really big yellow

snake around her neck and it made me think

of you

Which part?

The snake or the lady?

Both

Anyway

What are you doing?

Sitting on my front doorstep.

Why

Tat sounds boring

That**

lost my key.

I believe I left it at Sadie’s, but I can’t remember.

Oh f

So you can’t get in?

How long have you been out there

No one else will let you in?

Actually just hold on

Martin looked at his phone confusedly for a moment, before he was suddenly receiving a call from the other.

“Ok, go on,” Matthew said from the other side when he pushed the accept button.

“Er… I lost my key, and no one else is home.” His teeth chattered as he spoke.

“That sucks man, I’m sorry. My mom says hi by the way, and asked if you tried the window or a back door.”

He nodded, then realized that Matthew coudn’t see him. “Oh, yeah uh, the back door was locked, and the windows, I locked them before I left. Preventable measure you know?” He said, laughing a shrill, awkward laugh.

“Right. Don’t want any cold air getting in.” Matthew coughed, then went on. “Uh, is someone like, coming to let you in?”

“Yeah, Tristan is coming, he’s gonna be home soon. Also, hello.”

“What?”

“You said that your mum said hi, so i’m responding to that.” He put his head on Majesty’s for a moment, exhaling. When he picked it up again, he saw that he accidentally clicked on the facetime button.

It was at least nice to see his face.

“Sis, you’re red.” Matthew said, looking at the camera.

Martin cocked his head to the side, then cursed as he dropped his phone. “Why thank you for the relay of information,” he snarked, but it was the first time he had looked at himself since he was with Sadie. That was what, an hour and a half ago? Two?

His eyes looked sunken in, skin pale except for the exessive spots of red on his cheeks, ears, and his eyes, but that was different, because he had been crying. Still. He wasn’t able to tell with his lips, mostly because the black lipstick he normally wore was still clinging to his lips. It was truly a look.

“Are you alright?” Martin gave him a look that signified that he was anything but. “Right, right, force of habit, sorry darlin’… Random question, why would you go out in that cold of weather, especially cause you’re crippled?”

Ah, he was wondering if that question would come up. “Well, it was around six degrees when I left, I didn’t expect the temperature to drop so suddenly.”

Matthew gave him a perturbed look. “Six? That’s freezing?!”

“Well, yeah? But it wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t even freezing temperatures.” The other boy’s face didn’t change. It really wasn’t awful, but… oh wait. “Six degrees celsius Matthew, not fahrenheit. It would be about…” He thought about it for a minute, trying to ignore the sudden gust of wind. “Fourty… fouty-four degrees fahrenheit, I believe?”

“Oh, right, right, yeah. You know, y’all shame Americans for using fahrenheit, but it actually aduquateds for humans, not water. So.”

Well he was right about that, he was pretty sure. He couldn’t remember at the moment. “Hm.” He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to remove the heavy feeling from his eyelids.

“Woah hey, aren’t you not supposed to sleep? You might not wake up.”

“I wasn’t going to sleep. My eyes hurt.” He moved a trembling hand on top of Majesty’s head, once again back to petting. He blanked out for a moment, but he came back to Matthew talking, or yelling, through the phone.

“Darlin’- you need to wake up!” He looked at the phone, blinking eratically. He fell asleep? “Oh thank god,” he heard Matthew mutter through the phone. He looked up, realizing Majesty was walking around him, trying to wake him up too through nudges and pawing him. “You should probably stand up so you don’t fall asleep again.”

“Right.” He used Majesty as a balance to get to his feet, stepping around a couple times to try and get feeling back into his leg. Where the fuck was Tristan? He walked up and down the steps a few times, seeing that the tips of his fingers were going from a paper white to a more blue colour. He brought them to his face and wiped, feeling the skin that was marked with tears start to rip painfully.

Still shivering, he brought his phone up, asking Matthew something.

“Oh, yeah, it’s basically when-”

“What did I ask you?” He asked, looking at the phone.

The other boy looked at him, an indeterminable look in his eyes. “Uh, you asked about what happens-” The phone went black. He tried turnng it on again, to no avail, when he realized it died. His head was spinning, and he tried turing it on again, and again, until Majesty nudged him, and he had to stop tears from coming again.

He sat next to the door, the service dog standing next to him. He blinked harshly, feeling something burn in his chest again.

Majestly circled him again, going back to standing in the same spot. He rubbed him a couple times, but then had to rub his eyes.

“-rtin a dumbass yeah but he’ll be fine.” He woke up, feeling like he was being poked by a bunch of sewing needles. He blinked slowly, trying to sit up when he felt the blanket fall off.

Blanket? Martin moved his hand around, looking for Majesty. A coat of fur under his hand made him exhale in relief.

“Christ, Martin, you gave everyone here a fucking heart attack, you actually back with us this time?”

He muttered something, but it came out sounding weird, so he repeated it, with better results. “Can you give me a chance to see who everyone is before you start screaming.” He used Majesty to help him up, who jumped on the couch next to him to help him actually stay up.

Standing in front of him was Tristan, and two other guys that Martin recognized from school. David and Aaron, he’s pretty sure it was.

Doing a quick glance around, he noticed that A) His clothes had been changed. He was wearing a black sweater and sweat pants, B) He was in fact warm, seeing as there was a heater pointed at his direction, and C) his phone was no where to be found. He wondered how many hours he had been asleep.

Tristan opened his mouth to say something, but Martin interupted him. “Who changed my clothes?” This seemed to stop whatever the other boy was going to say.

“You did?”

Martin gave him an incredious look. “I feel like I would remember that.”

“Clearly not. What’s today Martin?”

He tried to remember the last conversation he had with someone over text. It was with… Matthew, who he really needed to call back, he realized. “Er… Wednesday, December 14?”

“It’s a few hours until friday. You’ve been asleep or on autopilot for like, the last 24 hours.” Oh. That didn’t feel right. That was even worse, actually. “Also, Dad and Oliver are on their way back. They were gonna come back before, but you were awake and like, warming up so I told them not to.”

Yeah, cool, whatever, he was still confused about the autopilot thing. “How often do I do that?”

Tristan raised a confused eyebrow, then said, “Oh, not that often, just right after like, messed up stuff happens. You kinda just, go through the mechanics of something.”

“When else have I done it?”

He pursed his lips. “Er, I’ll tell you later.” So he’d done it after what happened with Seth. He wouldn’t have figured it out at the moment if it weren’t for the thing his brother did with his mouth whenever his Mother’s husband was brought up.

“Right, ok.” He got up from the couch, noting as Tristan said something to his friends and waved as they quickly left. “Where’s my phone?”

“It’s where you left it.” He saw Martin’s face and added, “It’s on your bed.” Ah. He went to go walk to the stairs, but staggered on the second step. Majesty was already by hi side, so he leaned on him. “I can go get it Mars, or you can have Majesty get it, but Oliver said, and I quote ‘Your impulsevness and boyfriend can wait two seconds. Sit down Martin.’”

He sat back on the couch and sighed. “Phone, Majesty.” The dog perked up and ran up the stairs, coming back and dropping it on his lap. “Good boy,” he cooed, petting the top of his head.

Martin unlocked it (wincing at the date), partially watching as Tristan got up and walked out the room. He went to his last texts, and saw some that weren’t his. He assumed it was his brother who texted him, just saying that he was alive, and in the house.

You

December 15, 9:07 PM

Hey.

Is this a bad time?

Depends on who I’m talkin to

I hope I’m on the good spectrum then.

Darlin?

Your one and only.

I meant to put ‘the’ but ‘your’ works too.

I’m so glad you’re alright

Like, I thought I fucking lost you

You can’t kill me all that easily.

Right.

Well.

I’m actually in public rn and I can’t call and I’m sure there are some people you need to talk to

Yeah.

Sorry :(

Give me one hour and then i’m all yours

Take your time Love.

I sure have a lot of it.

I’m currenty on bedrest, so…

Aw :(

I won’t take up much more of your time then.

Call me when you can?

I miss you.

Of course darlin

And i miss you too

Martin closed out of the messenger app, only to get a little black heart sent to him. He loved that motherfucker.

He didn’t even bother texting his dad to see if the man was busy or not. He knew that if he did that it would be an immediate phone call, so, there wasn’t really a point.

He wouldn’t consider his father pushy or too suffocating. Martin loved and attention and praise he got from his father. His only concern was that Oliver would do some stupid shit (like father, like son) and burn himself out trying to care for everyone else.

He went to the contact and pushed the call button. It rang twice before both of his parents’ (fathers’?) asked about a million questions, all being variations of ‘What happened?’ and ‘Are you ok?’ and ‘We’re nearly home.’

“Yes, concerned adults, I’m perfectly fine. I just left my key at Sadie’s, I think. I should probably call and ask her-”

Tristan handed him a mug filled with overly sweetened hot tea, the only way he would drink it. “Don’t worry about it, her parents brought it back, along with like, a million other things because they felt so bad.”

Martin put it on speaker, just so they’d know who Martin was suddenly talking to. “I insisted on walking home, so it’s really my fault.” He took a sip of the tea when he heard the voices from the other end disprove this statement. “Also, define “a million.”

His brother shrugged. “I hope you like chocolate and tiny doll eyes.” He couldn’t help but feel like shit about it. He insisted he walk home, and he forgot his key, so he didn’t know why they blamed themselves so much. It was really on himself.

“I can hear your thinking Martin. You can’t blame yourself for this.” A door closed on the other side of the phone.

“I very well can, and I very well will.” Tristan sighed, but didn’t say much else about it. “Anyway.”

Over the phone, Nick asked: “Did you try calling a locksmith?” Martin felt his chest tighten up at the question. Majesty was immedietly at his side, putting his head on his lap. The other boy took notice and took the mug from his grip, and grabbed his hand.

He was going to say somehing, but jumped when the front door was unlocked and opened. Tristan hung up the phone, squeezing his hand at the same time.

Oliver and Nick walked in, not even bothering to hide their relief, until they noticed the condition that the other three were in, relief turning into concern.

“Hey baby,” Oliver said, coming and putting a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

Martin exhaled, feeling better that his father was back with him. “Uh,” he laughed awkwardly, another shrill laugh. He opened his mouth, then closed it, not being able to pinpoint a good response, so he just shrugged and crossed his arms.

Tristan let go of his hand pretty quickly, instead going over to talk to his dad. Oliver put himself where Tristan was, giving his son an indetrminable smile.

He held out his arms, a silent invitation for a familiar embrace. Martin crawled over, filling the space and resting his head on the crease of his father’s neck. He felt a hand soothingly run up and down his back, reassurances being whispered in his ear.

“So you wanna rely on how you nearly died again..?” Well he won’t pass on having good attention on him.

Oliver whispered, “We can talk later baby.” To which he nodded, breaking away from the much needed hug.

Later, when he got some time alone, where Nick was cooking and the other two were in the parlor, he was upstairs, going back to the familiar contact.

You

December 15, 10:43 PM

Attachment: One image

:)

👁👁?

It’s in german

I’m fully aware.

Well I can’t google translate cause it’s a picture

Once again, I am fully aware love :).

😾😾

Rude

I will be having someone translate that later so don’t act all smug

I wouldn’t dream of it.

Hm. Call me

Alright.

“Hey darlin’,” the voice said over the phone.

[shinobirain24]

Water and Ice- Chapter 4: Poseidon Island, Where we First Met

Poseidon Island, the land of the seas. During the Great War of Remnant, it was once a peaceful land with resources of water dust crystals. The people on land where once called the "sea people," for those who once lived here. Warriors basically have water-based semblances. No ruler, no laws, only harmony have been stored until the war started. Since the land were affiliated with either of the kingdoms. Neither land are trusted for protection, instead, they trained to protect themselves. Rumors has it that the Sea People are skilled swimmers, and with it, that's when their semblances are awakened. Some can turn water into ice, others can turn it into vapor. or rather create a mist. Manipulate the water around them, or to create a storm. But to the cost of their land to become into ruins, each of the rulers of Vale, Vacuo, Mistral and Atlas tried to gain alliances to battle in the Great War. But they all refused, not wanting to endanger the island. Despite the offers given with weapons and dust. Still, a general of the island refuses to refrain himself from fighting for his people and took a stand against all four kingdoms, starting with Vale and Atlas. It was a biggest mistake that the rebellion went wrong, as the island was attacked by the Sea Feilong.

The moon stones are sacred gems created by the the four seasonal maidens, women warriors who can control their semblances and elements without the need of dusts. Some are impossible to find, but with it, it lacks the use of dust to double the semblances and muster their speed, based on the seasons the huntsmen were born from. When it glows brightly, it dissipates the Grimm around them. Like the silver-eyed warriors, they are also feared by the Grimm. It was trusted to the civilians in Poseidon Island to guard them with their lives in the Ocean Temple. It can upgrade any huntsmen only in the night. The moon stones are said to be the pieces of the shattered moon since the beginning of humanity. As a result they turned into meteorites and landed in Remnant.

A white-haired boy with sapphire blue eyes, wears a white jacket and black bodysuit and laced boots and grey knee pads. On his back is a trident he is armed with. Then a girl with long aqua blue hair with a silver heart-shaped hairpin and icy blue eyes, wearing a white dress with teal sequins on her top part and a silver leather jacket overall, and matching heel boots with a rapier on her right waist. Both are walking around the island with the boy reading the map while the girl is on a lookout for any Grimm. "Are you sure you wanted to go through with this? We're not huntsmen yet. We'll get into trouble if out uncle finds out

"Everything's going to be fine, Sis. We can just get back before dinner." The boy said to his younger sister.

"Remind me again why are we here for?" She asked.

"Because according to legend, there should be moon stones around the area. The Ocean Temple should not be far from here."

"From where I got from the rest. Our semblances are very strong because we descended from the Sea People. But the moon stones are just a myth, right?" She asked again.

"Nobody can prove it was just a myth unless we see for ourselves." He scoffed.

"I hate it when you're right." She sighed. "After all, it's not like the moons stones are staying in one place for long."

"Sis, come on, with the moon stones, we'll be able to fight harder to fight in another war to protect Remnant. We're still at war here."

"I'm not sure if there will be another war, Tristan. Besides, you're the first in our family to have two semblances, which no huntsmen or huntresses can have." Said the young girl.

"Hey, there might be for some time, and that's why they're letting us go outside to train."

"Not like this." She sighed again. Continuing the trail to find one of the moon stones. "Although, when I heard that this is where our parents first met before their academy days, it was very romantic. They didn't remember it at first." She closed her hands while resting them on her right cheek while remembering the romantic story. "If only I met someone who is genuine and very kind, also brave. Just imagine." She said lovingly.

"Well, be sure that guy isn't anything like my ex-girlfriend." Said Tristan. "She's a crazy nut-job."

37 years ago

In the same island, a young man at the age of 15 with blue hair with amber-colored goggles and a red jacket with a dress shirt under is having a class trip with fellow classmates in Sanctum Academy, a combat school in Argus before he went to Haven. Since the island was in ruins after the Great War, it is now a tourist trap for future huntsmen and huntresses. "Alright class, if you take a good look in front of you, you can see the Ocean Temple that was once known as the Guardian Palace for the balance of the seas. But sometime in the Great War, when one of the moon stones were stolen, it angered the temple and floods the place as a punishment." Explained the tour guide. Gesturing the students to follow him. The boy followed along without looking up with his goggles over his eyes. Looking down writing down notes for his history test about the Great War, until he bumped into someone and dropped his notebook.

"Ow! Watch where you're going you dolt!" The boy looked up to see a white-haired girl around his age tied to the upper right side with a silver tiara-like hairpin. A white dress with a coat overall. Opening her eyes revealed her ice-blue eyes. What's also seeable is a small scar on her left eye. The boy snapped out of it and lends the girl a hand to help her up, and picked up a bag she was carrying. "Oh man, I am very sorry." He apologized, but the girl turned her back in anger. But then walked over to him.

"It's not often that men could even apologize." She scoffed.

"Look, I'm just trying to be nice around here, okay?" She then placed her fingers onto his goggles to push them up.

"Honestly, you should be more careful. You could've hurt somebody or yourself." She advised in a cold manner, but also in a civil tone of her voice. She then proceed to push his goggles above his forehead. But then gasped softly when she gazed into his deep-blue eyes, captivating the girl. Eyes that shine like the stars in midnight. "Um, are you okay?" He asked, this woke the girl and blinked three times before backing off. "I'm so sorry! It's just that, I was just lifting your goggles cause I was afraid you might bumped into anybody else and your eyes look so...so...argh! She grasped her head with both hands in nervousness. Her face feels warm just facing him. Her heart raced nonstop. He then saw something over her eye, as he almost forgot what he saw.

"Hey, is that a scar over your eye?" He asked.

"Ahh! Don't look at it!" She yelled, covering her eye. Feeling humiliated by the scar she received during training.

"No, I didn't mean it. I meant to say that it's actually cute." He said it, smiling at her. She then looked at him again with a look of curiosity. "Huh?"

"I mean, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's a symbol of a warrior's pride. From what I can tell, you're pushing yourself so hard in huntsmen training. When wearing scars, it's a medals for something to be proud of. It also represents bravery. Take it from me, I have a brother who has a scar after fighting a Nevermore." He assured her with a brave expression on his face. "By the way, I never seen you around before. Are you from a different class of Sanctum?"

"No. I'm from Atlas. This is my first time outside of the kingdom and my sister has permission to take me there for a vacation." The girl sat next to the boy on a rock, they forgot that they're in groups, but this moment seem to last forever as the day sets into night.

"Your sister graduated from Atlas Academy, huh?"

"Yes. She was at the top of her ranks in the school. Ironwood did say she is a promising prodigy after my grandfather taught her to unlock her semblance. She graduated and become a soldier for the military. I haven't seen her much. But to be honest, she is the reason I was inspired to become a huntress. But I wanted to enroll to Beacon. So I have to pass many trials to get here." She explained, hearing her story about her sister reminded him of how much he looked up to his older brother. "The thing is, I wanted to go to Beacon to get out of my father's shadow. It's safe to say that he can be very controlling for as long as I can remember. My sister was cut from her inheritance after she decided to join the military. But, that move have lit up the fire in her pride that day. My father couldn't care less about her when she has to fight for the good of Remnant." Hearing that story got the boy concerned if the girl is having some troubles at home.

"You know, the way I see my brother. He's tough, and way smarter. He graduated from Haven. He may not be the leader, but he's also the most reliable member of his team. Just thinking about him makes me want to enroll to Haven. He's always been keeping his cool in his days as a student. But, he's also my inspiration to become a huntsmen. That's why I wanted to be like him. However, during a mission, he was killed in an accident a year ago." This got the girl in shock when she hears the story. "And somewhat, it was my fault. I could've saved him that day because of my semblance." This got the girl to place her hand over his, feeling sorry for his loss. "I am sorry." She said softly. Then the boy looked at her and gazed into her eyes.

"Don't be. All I want to do now is to honor him by becoming a hunter. The first thing I wanted to do first is to conquer my fear. For you, keep your hopes up until you become a full-fledged huntress. Cause by the end of the day, month and year, you'll be a beautiful star who fought for a warrior's honor."

"Well, I hope you can. Keep your brother at heart, okay?" They then look up at the meteorites showering at the sky. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" She asked.

"Yeah. It is." He replied. They still held hands for hours, until a woman's voice is heard. "Weiss, time to go!" Called her elder sister.

"Coming, Winter! I have to go, I can't worry my sister one bit." She said, and he nodded. She then turned back and asked him. "Hey, will there be chance to meet again? I haven't caught your name yet."

"You'll have to find out yourself. But, if there's a chance, let's meet again sometime, Snow Angel." He winked. She quickly turn away and blushed at the nickname he gave her. While heading back to her sister who was waiting for her in the pier to head back to Atlas.

Snow Angel. I really like it. He's so dreamy. She thought.

7 years later

Neptune, Weiss, Drey, Rick and the 12 other huntsmen have decided to camp out for the night since it took them 17 hours for the ferry to stir to Poseidon Island. The current conditions of the island are still in ruins. It was closed for some of the reasons, but it's only available for any huntsmen and huntresses to investigate the disappearances of fellow hunters who vanished in thin air. But Weiss wonders if this is all a trap, from what she heard the day before the mission is that her sister ran from Atlas the week after she was promoted as General of the Atlas Military. They all sleep soundly by the bonfire.

Weiss is startled by the sounds of Neptune whimpering, and hyperventilating. "No...can't breath. Stop. No...stay back. Stay back." He was tossing and turning on the ground. Wondering if that's what's bothering him in his sleep. But then he cracked his eyes opened. "Ah! Jupiter!" He then took a deep breathe, and walked to the nearby pond behind the pillars of a colosseum. Weiss secretly follows, for unknown reasons, she couldn't forgive him for something. But she is also worried for his wellbeing, she hid behind a pillar and watches him reaching out to the pond. But once again his hand shakes when he got closer and closer. But he pulls back again. "Why can't I do this?!" Enraged, he threw a rock at a nearby pillar where Weiss was standing, but it missed her. It only created a dent in front. He then spotted her. "Weiss?" He said softly as he calmed down staring at the eyes of a huntress. She then ran back to the camp as she began to question herself in silence before he can apologize.

Neptune, what has gotten into you? I never saw you act this way before. Why did you take this mission? I'm sorry I haven't forgiven you, and for shutting you out. But I can't risk losing you. She thought with tears in her eyes.

[stealing-jasons-job]

S1 canon-compliant (mostly) one-shot that recreates the moments right before Clarke had to shut the dropship door with Bellamy on the other side.

Inspired by The Other Side by Ruelle, which is such a Bellarke song it fucking hurts. I highly suggest listening to it while you read! This is the first fic in a series of one-shots all inspired by some of my favorite songs that give me Bellarke feels. <3 

Buckle up ladies and gents, this is going to be a rough one.

Find it on AO3 (or keep reading)

We are buried in broken dreams,

We are knee-deep without a plea

---

“Clarke! They’re taking down the gate,” Miller stumbles into the dropship, where Clarke is leaned over an unconscious Raven. Chaos is raining down around them, with the grounders closing in, Raven close to dying and Bellamy and Finn both outside fighting for their lives.

“Good, because I did it...I think,” Jasper pops up from the hatch that leads down below. If he was right, that meant the dropship was ready for blast off.

At Jasper’s words, Miller nods. “I’m closing that door.”

“Wait!” Clarke jumps up, rushing toward the door with Finn close behind. “We’ve still got people out there. Bellamy’s not back, yet.”

There were only a couple dozen in the dropship, and there was no sign of Bellamy. God, he should have fallen back by now. They had to get as many of the 100 as possible inside before closing the doors.

Gunfire and smoke fill the air. The grenades Raven made as a last resort are thrown as the first grounders breach the gate.

“Alright, everybody get inside now!” Clarke yells as loud as she possibly can, hoping she’s heard above the clashing of metal, war cries, and shots fired.

“Get down!” Finn nearly tackles her as arrows fly by so close she can feel the air whoosh by her hair. They duck behind a makeshift blockade while Miller holds off as many as he can from the doorway.

More grenades are thrown, but it’s impossible to stop the onslaught of grounders. As more of the 100 run out of bullets, they continue to fall back into the relative safety of the dropship. They wouldn’t be able to hold them off for much longer.

Where is he, where is he, where is he? Clarke asks herself, squinting through the darkness and the smoke for that familiar head full of curls.

“There he is!” Finn points to the treeline as Bellamy emerges from the tunnels. They lock eyes, and for a fraction of a second, Clarke thinks everything might be okay. But there’s a grounder-filled battlefield in between him and the dropship doors.

“He’s never going to make it,” she mumbles, more to herself than Finn. “Bellamy run!” she screams, more desperate than she’s willing to admit to herself. Adrenaline is pumping through her body, but her heart is beating wildly for an entirely different reason.

He picks up a gun as Tristan stalks toward him, sword in hand. Bellamy pulls the trigger, only to find it empty. Clarke is stuck watching from afar as Tristan swings at him.

Bellamy dodges the first swing, but can’t avoid the fist to his face that immediately follows. Clarke watches almost in slow motion as Bellamy is beaten down by the larger grounder. A knee to the abdomen, a punch to the jaw, a slash to the shoulder. She feels each hit as if she were being kicked in the gut, tears forming in her eyes.

“They’re killing him,” she whispers, terrified for the man she’d quickly come to depend on since they landed on the ground.

It’s a stark realization to have in the middle of a battle. I don’t want to do this without him.

He may have started off as a thorn in her side, an arrogant prick hell-bent on making her life on the ground even harder than it already was. But they’d quickly realized there was more to each other than meets the eye.

They’d bonded over their will to survive, their need to protect their people at any cost, the burden of leading a group of delinquent teenagers. He’d shared hidden parts of himself with her, and she’d done the same. He is undeniably her partner now, her co-leader… maybe even something more.

But it doesn’t seem like she’ll ever get to figure out what that something more might be — his body sags a bit more with each hit.

“Give me that,” Finn’s order breaks her stare, and she watches as she grabs a gun as some kid runs into the dropship. He fires at Tristian, hitting his shoulder. But he doesn’t stop there, running out to help.

“Stop! Finn, no!” Without hesitation, she jumps to follow, but Miller’s hand around her elbow keeps her in place behind the barricade.

Finn rams into Tristian, pushing them both to the ground, and Bellamy wrestles himself on top of the grounder with a blow to the face.

“Clarke, you can’t save everybody!” Miller yells in her ear, but she barely hears him. She’s fixated on where Finn and Bellamy are teaming up to fight Tristan, frozen in horror as she watches the two young men she needed most grow more bloodied with each passing second.

“Let’s go!” Miller tries again, pulling on her arm. She fights to stay put, but he’s persistent.

The last of the grenades fire off, and Clarke looks around at the scene in front of her. Their makeshift home was filled with bodies, both grounder and her own people. She watches as a young girl is stabbed by a grounder, killed instantly. Clarke thinks her name was Penelope, only 14 or 15 years old.

They’re running out of time. If she keeps that door open much longer, she’d be sacrificing the rest of the 100. She’d be condemning more kids to die on the hope that Bellamy and Finn might survive.

She turns again to where Bellamy and Finn are fighting. Finn hits the ground hard, gun coming up just in time to prevent Tristan’s sword from splitting his face in two. Bellamy takes the opportunity to land a harsh blow to the man’s temple, and he falls to the ground unceremoniously.

“Get inside! Bellamy, Finn! Run!” she screams so loud her voice gives out at the end. Let them make it , she prays to a God she doesn’t really believe is listening. She’ll give them another 15 seconds, she owes them both that much.

They both turn to run, and hope surges within her.

But it is ripped away from her as fast as it had arrived. Another grounder tackles Finn to the ground. And as soon as Bellamy realizes Finn is no longer right behind him, he turns back to help him. At that moment, Clarke simultaneously loves him and hates him.

“Now or never, Clarke!” Miller urges. He hasn’t left his place beside her, occasionally firing off bullets. Bellamy was right to advise her to keep him close. She knows what she has to do, but she’s glued to the ground.

She can’t leave them out here to die. She can’t.

Bellamy crashes to the ground from another punch, blood spraying from his mouth. His eyes catch hers and they stay locked on each other’s gaze.

Even from more than 50 feet away, she can see the look on his face. The look telling her to leave him, telling her to go inside and close that door.

She shakes her head, probably too small of a gesture for him to see in the dark. But he reads her, in that annoying way he’s been able to do from day one. He gives her a nod of his own, eyes communicating everything he can’t say out loud.

Do it, they say.

I can’t leave you, her own respond. I don’t want to know the other side of a world without you.

If you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. But you have to do it, Princess.  

Tears are streaming down her face, and the entire world is minimized to this moment. Miller is all but dragging her back toward the dropship doors, as she struggles in his arms.

She knows logically that this is the only way to save her people. She knows she has to sacrifice Bellamy and Finn and anyone else remaining outside if she wants to save the kids inside. But everything inside of her is screaming at her to keep that door open, to wait for Bellamy.

“No!” she fights against Miller, but his hold doesn’t falter.

Bellamy gives her one last smirk, mouthing something at her. In the moment, she doesn’t process what he’s saying. But she knows the look in his eyes, the set to his jaw. He might give it readily for closing the door on him, but he would never forgive her for not saving the rest of those kids.

More grounders breach the gate, and she gathers the strength to do what must be done. She tries to find Bellamy or even Finn one last time, but they are both lost in the haze of smoke and fire surrounding the dropship.

She closes her eyes, trying to imprint his face on the back of her eyelids. She can do this, she can do this. For him and for Octavia who was still out there somewhere with Lincoln and for everyone else her mother sent down to die with her, she can do this.

May we meet again.

She runs to the dropship, where Miller is waiting. Once inside, she lifts the lever to shut the doors.

Anya manages to get inside as Jasper tries to get the wiring to cooperate to start the rockets. It’s a mob, everyone trying to get a piece of Anya the second she’s down. Clarke tries to stop them, her anguish momentarily pushed aside.

The Trikru leader is curled in a ball, almost unconscious.

“She deserves to die,” Miller’s voice cuts through, his dagger swinging through the air. But Clarke catches his arm before it can come down.

“No! We are not grounders.” She gets everyone’s attention with that, and the rioting stills.

“Clarke, waiting for your signal,” Jasper says from the ground. All eyes are on her and Jasper, who has two wires ready to jumpstart the rockets. They can all hear the grounders pounding on the outside walls. She closes her eyes, not willing to let any more tears fall. Not when the rest of her people are watching, not when they need her to be strong.

The door has been shut, the decision to leave the rest — to leave Bellamy — outside to die has already been made. But for some reason, the nod she gives Jasper is just as hard as pulling that lever had been.

Her eyes remain closed as the rockets fire, as she feels the momentary lift into the air and hears the corresponding screams outside. She tries unsuccessfully not to think about Bellamy and Finn’s voices being among them.

Silence soon envelopes the dropship. They all look around at one another, unsure what to do or how to feel.

“We did it!” the first cheer erupts, and soon more follow it. The rest of the delinquents whoop and holler, thanking the universe and any gods they believe in for keeping them alive.

But the sounds of their triumphant chants is the breaking point for Clarke. She feels the last of her resolve drain, and she drops the radio she’d been clutching all night.

Her legs fail her, and she stumbles back toward the wall of the dropship before crumpling to the floor. Miller crouches down next to her immediately.

“Clarke, Clarke. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he starts feeling for wounds, and she shakes her head. A sob escapes her, the first of many. She curls up in a ball, her head in her lap and her hands covering her ears.

She can’t listen to them cheering. Not when the cost was hundreds of lives, both grounders and her friends. Not when Finn risked his life to save Bellamy. Not when neither of them made it back in time.

She can’t hear the excited yells and the relieved laughs, not when her mind keeps playing the sounds of those screams on repeat. Not when Bellamy and Finn’s were among them.

Miller slides down beside her, wrapping a hesitant arm around her shoulders. No soothing words, no calming movements. He just sits there — solid presence next to her, silent permission to fall apart.

And that's exactly what she does.

It's not until her eyes are dry, her body is numb, and she's standing outside the dropship doors in the morning sunlight that her mind processes what Bellamy had mouthed to her as Miller dragged her back to the dropship door. She closes her eyes and looks up, silently hoping that there is some universe out there where he still exists, where they might have had a shot at more than war and destruction and death.

I love you, too, Bellamy Blake. I love you, too.

---

I don’t wanna know what it’s like to live without you,  

Don’t wanna know the other side of a world without you

[rufousnmacska]

Museum Day

A modern manorian au request

Part 1

Part 2

___

Part 3

The bar was unexpectedly full for a Thursday night and when Dorian opened the door, several people had to step aside to let him through. Loud and boisterous, cheering and booing as one, the crowd was focused solely on whatever championship game was on the big screen. Rifthold never made it into the playoffs of any sports, so their presence in the final tonight meant the bar was packed and Manon was working.

Too busy pouring beers, she didn’t see him come in. But the man working beside her did. He hadn’t been here the night Dorian first met Manon. His long, dark hair was pulled back and Dorian could see all the features he’d passed on to his daughter, including his unusual golden eyes. Those eyes were inspecting him now, taking in the expensive clothes and styled hair. Dorian smiled politely, trying to interpret the look, but the man was inscrutable. Someone ordered a drink and Dorian finally escaped her father’s gaze.

As he waded through the crowd to where Manon was working, he spotted her cousin. She was walking towards him, arms full of glasses and dishes, when she stopped and pointed her chin at him. “Art guy, right?”

“I’m Dorian,” he said, yelling slightly to be heard over the noise, and hoping to disguise his disappointment that she didn’t already know his name. “I’d shake your hand, but that’s not a good idea. Can I help?”

She huffed a thankful breath and held her arms out for him to take a stack of pint glasses. “I’m Asterin. It’s nice to meet you. Officially, I mean. Unofficially, I know everything about you.” She grinned and winked before moving past him towards the kitchen.

Dorian found himself smiling too as he followed her. Manon finally saw him as he passed the end of the bar. Her puzzled expression at his appearance was, for lack of a better word, so adorable, that he wished he could have taken a picture. He paused before the swinging door and shouted, “Asterin recruited me.”

Manon glanced over at her father, who was waiting on people at the other end of the bar.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, more quietly this time. He should have called before showing up out of the blue. Although they’d talked often, they’d only seen each other once since she’d let him and his brother stay at her place. Dorian’s efforts to free himself and Hollin from his uncle’s grasp had wreaked havoc on his already hectic class schedule. And her work schedule was just as bad. But after the interview had gone so well, she was the first person he wanted to tell.

“No,” she said. “The game is almost over and things should quiet down soon.”

“Okay. I’ll stay out of the way.”

With a fearsome point of her finger, she said, “Don’t let Asterin boss you around!”

Dorian gave her a look saying it was way too late for that and headed into the kitchen. Asterin was instantly there, plucking the glasses from his grasp and setting them in the dishwasher. When it was loaded, she turned around to examine him.

“I can turn around,” he joked. “Mr. Blackbeak gave me the once over when I came in, but he only saw the front.”

Asterin laughed and looked as if she was going to say sure. But instead, she said, “Mr. Crochan. Manon uses her mother’s name. I wouldn’t want you to screw things up right off the bat.”

“Oh shit, thank you,” he said. “That would’ve been bad.”

“Nah, he’s easy to get along with actually,” she said. “Just protective of Manon.” Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at him. “We all are. So, princeling or not, you better not hurt her.”

Solemnly, he said, “I promise.”

Asterin gave him another once over before declaring, “Okay, you’ve passed my test.”

Laughing, he asked, “How did I do that?”

“How will I do that,” she corrected, looking pointedly at the dishwasher, then back at him.

Dorian found a clean spot to put his portfolio down, then joined her. “What do I do?”

“First, you need an apron. I’d hate to mess up your pretty suit.”

*****

Asterin had been running back and forth to the kitchen like a mad woman, going in with dirty dishes and returning immediately with clean ones to put behind the bar. She’d refused to answer Manon’s questions about where Dorian had disappeared to, or what she’d saddled him with.

When she finally had a free moment, she headed back into the kitchen. Dorian was standing at the sink, working his way through a stack of plates. The kitchen wasn’t big enough to offer a full menu. Or even a half menu. But her dad had partnered with the pizza place next door so their food could be ordered here.

“I thought I told you not to let Asterin suck you into this,” Manon said. She’d silently walked up behind him, and at the sound of her voice, so close to his ear, Dorian flinched and dropped a plate on the floor.

He swore and picked up the pieces, only to find her grinning at him. “You did that on purpose!”

Ignoring the accusation, she asked, “How did it go?”

Tossing the broken dish into the trash and wiping his hands on his damp, dirty apron, he said, “You are looking at the new intern for Adarlan Architects.”

Before she could congratulate him, her father stuck his head in the door. “Manon, get out here!” When he saw Dorian, and what he was doing, Tristan gave a brief nod - of greeting or approval, she couldn’t tell - then disappeared.

On her way back out, Manon said, “We’ll have to celebrate. Something better than washing dishes in a bar.”

The next day, when he wanted to go to the museum, she wondered if she’d made a mistake in leaving the method of celebration up to him. She loved the museum, but she’d been volunteering a lot in addition to her normal hours. This was her first day off in a long time that she’d planned to avoid the place.

Coming through the rotating door, Dorian took her hand and pulled her to the left. Towards the entrance to the art museum.

“Have you ever been through this side?”

“Once. For the employee orientation,” Manon admitted, expecting disappointment or annoyance. But his face lit up with excitement.

“Well then, can I interest you in a tour?”

“It’s your party,” she said. “But, I don’t know any tour guides who hold the visitor’s hand.”

Leading her into the first gallery, Dorian smirked. “Things are done a little differently on my tours.”

“I suppose I’ll need to choose a favorite piece?” Glancing around the room, all she saw were a bunch of dark, drab paintings hanging on the walls. Boring portraits of old men, groups of old men, and more old men. A few naked women. Cynically, she wondered if any of the artwork would be of naked men.

“Your grimace tells me the Xandrian style is not for you.”

Heat radiated over her cheeks and she cringed. “Was it that obvious?”

Dorian tilted his head and stared at her. The flush of her skin grew hotter under his gaze and Manon wanted to turn away, but she crossed her arms and stayed put.

Finally, he said, “I think I know what you’ll like. But in the interest of giving a proper tour, we’re not skipping things. Figuring out what you dislike and why can help you better appreciate the things you do like.”

Manon knew nothing about art, and had never been interested in it. During her orientation tour of this wing, she’d ignored most of what was said, relegating it to mindless nonsense. Give her the concrete science of bones and minerals and anatomy over the ever-changing interpretations and feelings of art any day. Though, paleontology involved its own kind of interpretation. Yes, it was science. But unless someone developed a time machine, there was no way to be 100% certain of what these animals looked like or how they lived. So, in some ways, science demanded just as much creativity as the arts.

As Dorian began to talk about the paintings in the first gallery, she tried to keep an open mind and follow his advice, thinking about what aspects she didn’t like and what, if any, she did.

*****

The route through the art museum had been circuitous and he’d doubled back through a few galleries. But Dorian wanted to save the exhibit he thought Manon might appreciate for last. While she’d enjoyed some of the sculptures, not a surprise based on her preferred subject, she hadn’t expressed much interest in the broad collection of paintings. Her eyes widened at a few, but he was counting on the next room to blow her away.

Letting her walk in first, Dorian held his breath, waiting for her reaction.

The room was smaller than most, displaying works by a single artist. Darkly painted walls and focused lighting gave off an air of neutral elegance that worked well with the art. Huge landscape paintings using bright colors and simple strokes surrounded them: towering mountain peaks glowing in the sunrise, sinuous rivers meandering through wide valleys, and skies filled with billowing clouds that seemed to be alive with movement. They possessed a wild, windy sort of beauty that he had come to associate with her.

Trying not to stare too intently, Dorian watched Manon slowly walk around the room. She stopped in front of each painting. Ever so faintly, her neutral mask was starting to break. But before he could claim victory, she turned a corner and didn’t come back.

He found her in front of one of the smaller pieces, and the only one with figures. At the foot of soaring, snow-capped mountains, a man was leaving his home, leaving a woman and child behind. Eyes wide and glistening, Manon looked at it for a very long time. Dorian retreated to a bench, leaving her alone with the painting and her thoughts.

When she finally joined him, he made no mention of the tears ready to spill down her cheeks, and made no move to hug her, even though he desperately wanted to.

“I never knew my mother,” she said, speaking so softly he had to lean closer. “She died when I was born and I was raised by my grandmother. I didn’t even know my father until I was 16.”

Unable to resist, Dorian slowly placed a hand on her back. It was a light touch, until she sank backwards an inch or two, resting against it.

“My grandmother was...” she shivered before continuing. “She was not a good person. She framed my dad for dealing drugs and managed to get custody of me. But she told me I was unwanted. Abandoned. And it was her bad luck to raise me. She...” Manon paused, then took a deep, steadying breath. “She was very good at finding your weakest points, digging her claws in, and not letting go. And while she was feeding me lies, she was telling my father I was ashamed of him, that I wanted nothing to do with him. Asterin had it worse.” She stopped abruptly, perhaps realizing how much truth she’d just laid bare to him. “We survived it somehow. When I tracked down my dad and learned the truth, Asterin and I left and came here. His family took us in.” She smiled then and added, “It’s a big family. Lots of cousins.”

Dorian said nothing, trying to take it all in. Trying to comprehend how difficult it was for her to speak about, how much he appreciated her trust. Trying not to angrily ask about the grandmother who’d abused her.

Manon wiped her face dry. “She died two years ago. When we heard, Asterin and I planned to celebrate. But we just cried.” She faced him, her eyes downcast. “We just hugged each other and cried.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say. It seemed to be enough as she tilted sideways against him, letting him shift his arm to wrap around her shoulders.

“That painting. He doesn’t want to leave them. You can’t see their expressions, but you can tell. He already misses them and he’s not even gone.”

He looked back up and immediately saw what she meant. The goodbye held a terrible finality that none of the figures seemed to want. But for whatever reason, had to go through with.

“How did you know I’d like these?”

Dorian laughed softly. “Something about these paintings made me think of you.”

“What was your favorite?” she asked, changing the course of the conversation away from herself.

He looked around the room. “I love this style. The simplicity and use of color. But I think my absolute favorites are the goddess statues.”

Manon rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. “The naked ones.”

“They weren’t all naked.” Judging from her eyebrow, she didn’t believe him. “And it’s not because they’re naked,” he protested. “You have to admit the carvings were incredible. The way the marble looked like living flesh and muscle. I honestly don’t know how they did it.”

She relented. “Okay. Yes, they were beautiful.”

“You’ve never told me what exhibit is your favorite in the natural history wing.”

Pink spread across her cheeks and she quirked her mouth to keep from smiling. “The pterosaurs.”

Dorian grinned, wide and victorious. He didn’t quite know what he’d won, but it felt like a victory. Like yet another thing connecting them together. “Hmm, that’s interesting.”

She made a noise that could have been agreement and pulled him up when she stood. As they made their way back through the maze of galleries, she asked, “Do you have to get home to Hollin now?”

“No,” Dorian said. “He’s staying with a friend all weekend.” She didn’t say anything more, though he sensed she wanted to. ��Why?” He pulled her closer and whispered, “Do you have more ways to celebrate my huge success?”

Laughing, she gestured to their surroundings and said, “I’ll admit, you didn’t go the route I was expecting. But that’s not what I meant.” They were outside now and she stopped to tug a wool hat over her head. Avoiding his gaze, she asked, “I thought maybe you’d like to meet my dad? Maybe have dinner?”

The way she asked it told Dorian this was something she didn’t normally do, if ever. He’d missed officially meeting Mr. Crochan last night at the bar. After berating Asterin for kidnapping him, Manon had pulled him out of the kitchen shortly before the place closed and walked him outside. Her father was busy talking to some people in the corner and he missed Dorian’s exit completely. Despite her enthusiasm about meeting up today, and knowing how much she guarded her privacy, he’d gone home feeling a little hurt.

But that hurt was completely forgotten with her invitation.

Her expression was a little wary, so Dorian said simply, “Yes.” This seemed new for her and he didn’t want to make her feel more uncomfortable by pulling some I’d be honored to meet your father speech, even if that was exactly how he felt. But he added, “As long as he doesn’t insist on pineapple pizza.”

Her laugh rang through the air, musical and lovely. And for that moment, the crowd surrounding them disappeared. No shrieking kids, no busy sidewalks, no loud traffic. Only the two of them seemed to exist.

Looking at him as if she sensed it too, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. When he no longer felt the softness of her lips on his skin, the moment passed and they were once again in front of a bustling city street. With hands held tight, they made their way into the crowd.

*****

Epilogue

He should have checked his bag rather than try to stuff so much into a carry-on. The couple glaring at him as he tried to dislodge it from the overhead compartment was quickly losing their patience. But Dorian just ignored them, gave a final tug, and freed his luggage. In moments he’d be seeing Manon. With his own eyes, not on a screen.

They’d only been apart for five months, but it had been the longest five months of his life.

Getting access to his trust fund and full custody of Hollin had set him back two semesters. Which was fine. Except that part way through, Manon was accepted to grad school at the University of the Wastes. A dream come true that came with a tarnished silver lining. They’d be in two different cities on opposite ends of the continent until he graduated.

Now, with Hollin settled in a good boarding school on the west coast, and his degree in hand - a degree not chained to any one location - they could finally be together.

Finally, he thought, patting the tiny box in his pocket.

That would have to wait though, until her family visited next month.

On the flight, he’d watched the scenery change from forested mountains to rolling, grassy plains, but it still hadn’t prepared him for what he saw when he stepped off the plane. He was struck by the immensity of the Wastes, the wind and wide open sky, the distant hills that were full of fossils. And then by her.

Manon ran to meet him and he dropped his bag. They held each other as if it had been years and they’d been oceans apart.

Lifting her off her feet, Dorian rasped, “God I missed you!”

Manon laughed, and when he put her down she wore a smile he’d never seen before, full of light and joy. “Welcome home, princeling.”

The end :)

*****

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(painting: Remember, by Nicholas Roerich 1924)