#While also being described as ignorant despite being really brave and kind

[immediatebreakfast]

Well... Classic gothic literature is somehow going to have racism in the narrative, and this was the one chapter packed with it. It's pretty bad in this one.

We as readers can't forget that as much Mary Shelley was a critic of her society's injustice, and a great writer, she is still very much a product of her time regarding some beliefs that influenced her writing. Moreover, it's still important to examine the racism, because it allows us to see how far (not really) we have come as a society.

It is really ironic how in this book Justine's horrible trial and execution is criticized because of the injustice present in it, while not even explaining what exactly Safie's father did to get imprisoned. BUT since this is a 1818 book of course Safie's father ends up being an opportunist who lies, and schemes to get himself out of problems.

Also, I do think that Felix's own reasons to help him went from being altruistic to being selfish the moment Safie entered the narrative. The text says it so! Of course it was supposed to be read differently in Mary Shelley's time, but the paragraph:

"The youth could not help owning to his own mind, that the captive possessed a treasure which would fully reward his toil and hazard."

It really does not paint a good picture with Felix's vows of twisted justice. He offered to get out Safie's father by himself without accepting any payment, but the second Safie comes he decides that she is the reward for something he HIMSELF offered.

And I'm not even getting into Safie's established past, and the weird assumption that somehow christian women are freer in a country where their families could marry them to whoever they seemed fit.

[seeingteacupsindragons]

William and Sherlock are both incredibly disconnected from their own emotions in a lot of ways, and learning to grow past that and reconnect with those parts of themselves is an important part of not only their arcs, but the series as a whole.

Their humanity and their emotions being tied to that is a really strong undercurrent in the series. This kind of undercurrent tends to be strongest when there are, well, nonhumans somewhere floating around in the story, but YuuMori rests its discussion on this without resorting to that trick.

Instead, it works a lot with the way these two main characters think about themselves, relate to themselves and others, how they treat and refer to others, and how they each behave. Both of them can easily be dehumanized because of the not-entirely-healthy way they deal with their emotions at first, and both of them get a handle on their emotions and living with them as they start to remember and participate more in their own humanity.

I also find interesting how they relate to their own emotions, and despite how disconnect they feel from them, how strongly they really influence their behavior.

Sherlock, on the surface, seems obviously emotional. When he likes people, they know. When he's grumpy, everyone knows. When he's excited and happy, everyone knows. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and even in the face of rejection, he never actually stops doing that.

He's a brave man, for that. Honestly, Sherlock is very bold and strong of heart. I think he has to be, for the way he restarted William's.

But being bold of heart doesn't mean you actually engage with your emotions. Equally, it can mean you ignore them.

Despite all I described above above, he's frequently confused and surprised by how he feels (see: being jealous of Mary, see: trying to deal with his frustration with William 'dumping' him briefly, etc.). He suffers through conflicting feelings about Mary, about William and Mycroft, and Irene and Hudson. He's not really that great at handling his feelings. And he acts out when he's upset with no real acknowledgment of what he's doing—he shoots his own wall, he insults John because he's mad, he barely apologizes and tries to avoid the earnest openness it requires he gets extremely high and damages his own beloved, expensive instrument...none of this is really engaging with his emotions or properly dealing with it.

But as we edge toward The Final Problem, John has done a lot of his work on Sherlock and Sherlock is opening up to John and admitting to his fears. He's still not handling them great—stop with the self-sacrifice, boys!—but he can at least understand and admit to how he feels. He can even tell John how he feels about William, and, hell, even Louis, even his uncertainties about their relationship. He knows and acknowledges all of the messiness in there.

William isn't there by The Final Problem. Oh, sure, he manages to tell Sherlock all the important things. But he's taking caveats to protect himself—with the letter, he assumed he'd die and not have to deal with the fallout. He gets there a little bit later, after he stops seeing himself in a role.

While Sherlock is obviously emotional, William tends to be more buttoned up and closed off. I suspect he would probably insist that he doesn't act emotionally at all. Fans sure do. Personally, well. You know those guys who get so caught up in, "No, I'm being logical," while they throw a tantrum when no one agrees with them?

Yeah, that's William.

He's caught up in an environment where everyone affirms his emotional impulses and tantrums as logical and brilliant, when he's really just...Feeling A Way and acting on it. He's upset, he's hurt, he's angry, and now everyone else has to deal with him trying to soothe himself because he literally does not realize these things are a Him problem. He has no idea how to cope with his feelings, because he can't even admit he's having them.

And I very truly don't think he realizes until after The Fall that he was so emotional and so unaware of the emotion that he couldn't try to compartmentalize or account for the bias to see things more clearly.

It's pretty explicit on that rooftop that William sees emotions and being connected to emotions as being human, as having a heart, and Sherlock saved him by reminding him of it. Sure, Sherlock did that way back when they first met, but it was also clear that even back then, that quick connection would lead to William's defeat and their exact situation—even if they hadn't gotten there yet.

Sherlock managed to throw away William's plans because he forced William to feel that restarted heart and actual engage in the world. To remember he's part of it, not being of pure logic who only interacts with the world and isn't of it. Every time William dehumanizes someone by calling them a devil or an angel or a hero, he's disconnecting them from their humanity—even himself.

He doesn't call anyone that afterward. He can finally see the world clearly, unclouded by his forced narrative, by the emptiness he was forcing on himself. The world is beautiful, and he's ready to engage with it fully now.

Because Sherlock reminded him he had a heart, that he was a living, breathing human, and sparked emotions he couldn't dismiss or avoid or pull away from.

Because to be human is to feel, and to be human is to be part of the world, and to be part of the world is to live.

[socialprawn]

I want to eat Agape with a spoon! Bless you. What is her relationship with her companions?

Thank youuu, she will probably taste kind of bitter though /u\

I received a similar ask emmmm in 2018 and I said I would draw it but I never did. Now I can answer writing wise and use the other ask to draw, fulfilling its purpose (⓿_⓿)

It is LONG so, under cut:

DAO:

Alistair: They end up being together but that is only because he is a very brave dude, otherwise she would not have initiated anything :V She and him are not every much alike but they complement each other a lot, plus they are both very determined souls and goal-oriented so that is a plus for both of them. She makes him more determined and he makes her feel cherished (ಥ _ ಥ)

Morrigan: They are made of the same cloth. However Agape is pro-circle (sceptic for 'herself and people who can prove themselves', but pro-circle nonetheless) and very, very ignorant and inexperienced with the real life world. At first, Morrigan disliked Agape but her interest into the forbidden magics was very punk of Agape, and Morrigan got to appreciate her. She was her pillar when it came to dealing with Mouse. (For those who don't know, Agape is an abomination and failed her Harrowing). Basically, sisters.

Leliana: Agape loved that she was from the distant country of Orlais and she ended up dressing up with everything Leli was describing her; fancy ribbons, flowers, embroidered shoes. She let Leli braid her hair. Leliana found Agape both precious and fierce. Agape always went to her for advice and really enjoyed her brain. She appreciated that despite her melancholy, she was willing to chat about anything with great excitement, and they also prayed together 💪

Wynne: Very rocky.... Wynne didn't like Agape since the times in the Circle. Agape was very much a teacher's pet, and Wynne is not fond of snarky perfectionists. When Agape was found to be an abomination, Wynne tried to slay her, with the reasoning of Alistair taking over (which was basically doom for Ferelden). Agape found her disappointing and a hypocrite, all things considered with her being an 'abomination' also.

Zevran: Agape was kind of scared of Zevran's view on life and killing, but she was always encouraging his flirtations because she lovessss validation, making Alistair uncomfortable. Agape is very awkward with very confident people and they didn't have a lot in common, so Zevran liked to learn more about her over wine in the campfire. They spoke of their deepest corners of their souls with ease, in the end. Separating in the end felt natural but their company together was very important for Agape to feel more human and less of a Warden Mage Killing Machine.

Sten: Agape's crush 😪 Absolute respect for each other that took hard work by both of them... Agape only knew Qunari from legends but she had no idea she would see one in her lifetime, so she was curious. Sten appreciated Agape's determined spirit and no-bullshit attitude, however he agreed with Wynne for Agape to be slain after she explained her reasoning. He absolutely loathes blood magic and spirits. This later only made their bond stronger however, as he truly felt she was a master of determination being able to stop the blight while being tormented by a demon.

Oghren: Nope.

Shale: I think Shale found her adorable. Some moss grew on the crevices of her body and she said "We are matching, you and your flowers, me and my moss. Aren't we positively girly right now?"

DAA

Anders: They started out as how Morrigan and Alistair were in DAO pretty much, only they have way too much in common with their upbringing. They wouldn't shut up about the Circle. "And do you remember when x did this XDDD" Agape was a Commander now and with no demon whispering bullshit, so her confidence was sky-rocket high, and she was much chattier and relaxed. She liked joking a bit more and she received the Alistair sarcasm training. They were OK. Anders found her to be a bit of a stuck-up princess but he was also amused by it. Let it all floww attitude.

Nathaniel: They were more than OK. Agape's other crush 😭 As soon as he mentioned his expedition to Kirkwall she immediately went "I've heard tha the Amells are nobles in Kirkwall!!" They bonded over how obviously snobby they both are. It really helped Agape be comfortable with him despite his assassination attempt, over the fact that she pulled her Duncan-oriented BOSS move to recruit him. She was determined to help him. HOWEVER, she killed her dad 1970's Carrie style, so this doesn't help them get very very friendly. She did apologise in the end but obviously what she did was too harmful. (Especially knowing that she enjoyed it 😬)

Justice: Justice knew Agape was an abomination even though she doesn't use her blood magic or mentions Mouse in DAA. He wasn't distrustful of her as he judged her for her actions, and could truly see her separated from Mouse. When he decided to 'warn' her, she panicked and told him that after she finds someone to replace her, she will attempt to defeat Mouse. Justice evaluated her and believed her, as she has never done anything unjust. It's a different story if she's dangerous.

Velana: I think Agape was too impatient to deal with Velana's hatred towards humans. When she gave her the notebook, Velana immediately snapped at her and Agape threw it on the floor LOL. Short fuse. I think an older, more mature Agape would reflect on her relationship with Velana with great regret.

Sigrun: Sigrun is my favourite DAA companion (❤´艸｀❤) however Agape did not bond with her much as their relationship was very impersonal. Agape gave her a note with her favourite books and Sigrun followed it to the t <:

I haven't finished DAA yet and I know Velana's and Sigrun's personal quests are bugged so maybe these relationships will change...

That's it! There's a tonne more but I'd rather doodle them or write short fics maybe?! Whoever cares about these hehe c:

[the-cult-of-russo]

Ok so I've been coming back here to reread all of your work and I never get tired of it (the NSFW alphabet one is low-key my favorite one 👀) and let me tell you that you're one of my favorite writers and love all of your work.

You don't have to do it if you don't want to, but do you have hc of how Billy Russo would react/ be when he finds out that he's going to be a father? Based on your NSFW alphabet you did for him, you described him as a (extremely) sweet and caring person and I couldn't help to think about how he would be if he ever had a kid of his own.

(Once again, feel free to ignore this if you want to or feel uncomfortable doing it. It's a thought that hass been in my head for a while and wanted to get it out of my system lmao 😂)

First off, thank you! I really appreciate that 🥺🖤🖤🖤

Also, I love talking about headcanons, never worry about asking me about them lmao

So I just wanna say since I did write a multi chapter series about how Billy walked away when he found out that like, the idea for that happened because the first part, his letter to you, is what came to my head. And I wanted to write something sad and angsty. I feel like he's much more likely to stick around in all honesty but the boys got so many issues who even knows loool

But I just wanted to point that out because this will be different and I don't want people to be like; 'But Thalia... you did a whole thing where he left...' 😂

So yeah lmao

Remember, this is my Billy. AU, still bros with Frank Billy 👀😂🖤

I've split this into a few scenarios because I feel like there would be small differences depending on the context.

One night stand:

You had a one night stand with Billy. An amazing, ruin you for other men, kind of one night stand. But then you found out you were pregnant and went to Anvil to tell him. Of course when you turn up there he has no idea the bomb you're about to drop on him. Instead, he gives you a filthy smirk as you enter his office.

"Couldn't stay away?"

When you tell Billy you're pregnant, there's a long moment where he just blinks at you and you're pretty sure you might have broke him.

He cycles through a million and one emotions before it settles on a mix of sheer terror, shock and happiness.

He tries not to get offended when you blurt out that you'd understand if he didn't want to be part of his baby's life. He didn't want his kid to grow up feeling like he didn't love them. He's not his mother.

You're not offended when the first words to leave his lips are asking if the baby is definitely his. Its a valid question since you'd slept with him just hours after meeting him in a bar.

He tells you he wants to be there and of course he takes care of all medical bills and even tries to convince you to let him buy you a better place to live. Somewhere closer to him so you and the baby will be close by.

It wasn't planned or expected by any means but he wants to be there.

Casual sex/friends with benefits:

Billy comes over expecting to get some great sex and instead has you thrusting a pregnancy test in his hands. You're scared and upset and have no idea how he'll react. You've been sleeping together for a while but been friends for longer than that. His commitment issues are exactly why you're worried.

He sits down and stares at it, letting his brain try to absorb the fact he's going to be a dad. He feels the shot of anxiety run through him, wondering if he can do it. What kind of dad could he be? His own mother never loved him, would he be capable of loving a child?

But he knows the answer is yes. Because despite not even being in a relationship with you and this coming out of the blue, he feels excitement welling inside of him and he doesn't even realise he's smiling at the test in his hands.

When he looks back at you, sees how scared you are, he feels a pang of something in his chest that feels an awful lot like panic. He asks what you want to do, scared of the answer you'll give him. But of course you scoff and tell him you're keeping the baby.

Relief and happiness flood his body then as he gets up, hugging you tightly and stroking your hair.

"You don't gotta worry. I'll take care of you both, I promise."

And he means it. Once again he pays all the medical bills and he shockingly tells you he'd like to make a real go out of what you two have.

He buys a house for you and the baby but doesn't pressure you about him living there too. He let's you set the pace for what's happening between you.

Relationship/marriage:

He cries. Like a lot. Planned or not, the news has him weeping like a little girl. You're living together so he notices when you're feeling unwell. Notices that you haven't had your period since he normally gets you ice-cream and also gets you pads and things if you need them. He doesn't say anything though until you do.

So he gets the test for you. The pair of you sit on the bed after you did what you needed, a timer on his phone. The test is on the dresser across the room. Both of you are silent. Overwhelmed by what might happen. He really wants it to be positive. (If this wasn't planned then when you told him you might be, he started to really think about it and found he wanted a baby with you).

When the timer goes off you both jump up comically but hesitate near the dresser. Billy ends up being the one brave enough to look. You watch his reaction for a moment and you're startled when his eyes water, the way he looks at you with a beaming smile as the tears fall without him even noticing.

"We're havin' a baby!" He grins like a mad man, picking you up and twirling you around.

He's so excited that the second your feet hit the ground, he's on the phone to Frank telling him the news. Still crying, mind you.

Once he's made his phone calls, he tells you the penthouse is being left behind. He's buying a house near the Castle's for your new little family.

Both he and Frank fix it up and decorate it.

No matter which scenario it happens:

Billy goes to every appointment with you, every ultrasound. The first time he sees his baby, he cries. When he finds out if its a boy or girl, he cries. When he first feels the baby kick, he cries. When the baby's born, he's a mess. He attends every class with you and reads all the books he can get his hands on. And of course he asks Frank for advice about anything and everything.

He frequently talks to your bump, regalling the baby with tales of his life or reading from a book. He takes good care of you, anything you need, he gets you. You want pickles and a donut at 4am? Don't worry, Billy's got you. You need crazy good sex because the hormones are driving you up the wall? Billy's got you. You're sobbing because you feel like a beached whale and none of your clothes, even the pregnancy ones fit you? Billy's there. Telling you that you're absolutely beautiful. Radiant even. He gets one of his guys to buy you a bunch of clothes that fit and he cuddles you until you feel better. He dotes on you constantly, always calls and texts if he's not with you to make sure you're okay.

When you go into labour, he's there holding your hand and cheering you on the whole time. And the second the babys there, he's sobbing and smiling like an idiot. When he first holds his baby, it's a feeling he's never felt before. He feels complete in every way. So full of love he just might burst from it. And while a tiny part of him grieves for the baby version of himself that didn't seem to ever have that, he's overwhelmed by the pure happiness and love as he gazes down at his little ones face.

"Shit... you're so perfect."

He vows to be the best damn father he can be and the baby will never feel unloved for even a second.

[impalementation]

spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 3

part 1: “When you kiss me I want to die”: Angel and the high school seasons

part 2: “Love isn’t brains, children”: Enter Spike as the id

* 

“Something effulgent”: Season five and the construction of Spike the romantic

Prior to becoming a romantic interest, Spike is everything I discussed in the last section. He is an id and a mirror for Buffy, he’s prone to both romantic exaggeration and cutting realism, and his liminality suggests ambiguity. But outside of “Lovers Walk”, the writing doesn’t actually delve too deeply into Spike’s nature as a romantic. If you stopped the canon at “Restless”, you’d probably think that Spike’s love for Drusilla was intriguing, but that the show hadn’t really gone anywhere with the implications of it, and for all you knew, that might not be an important part of his character anymore. So one of the most interesting things about season five to me, is that in this season in which the writers first consciously, deliberately decide to explore the sexual and romantic tension between Spike and Buffy, they also emphasize Spike’s romanticism more than ever. The choice to define Spike by his romanticism is a choice that follows naturally from everything established about his character, but it was also not an inevitable choice. Therefore, it’s a choice worth looking at in some detail.

Consider everything that “Fool For Love” establishes about Spike, especially the things that contradict what was supposedly canon at the time. It makes Drusilla his sire instead of Angel, meaning that he is sired by a romantic connection, and as a direct result of heartbreak. It makes him a poet living in the middle of the Victorian era, an age at odds with his previous ages of “barely 200” and “126”. Meaning that the writing specifically decides to ignore its canon in order to associate him with an era in which passions would have been repressed (rather than the Romantic era of the early 1800’s or the modern energy of the early 1900’s). Moreover, the episode reveals his entire aesthetic and personality to essentially be a construct. But most tellingly of all, it reveals him to be an idealist. Spike is not just a performance artist; he yearns for the “effulgent”, for something “glowing and glistening” that the “vulgarians” of the world don’t understand. In other words, he yearns for something bigger and more beautiful than life: something romantic. Later, he chases after “death, glory, and sod all else.” Spike may be a “fool for love”, who has a romantic view of romantic love specifically, but the episode is very clear about the fact that he is also a romantic more generally. When Drusilla turns him, she doesn’t tempt him by telling him she’ll love him forever. She tempts him by offering him “something…effulgent”. (Which, in typical Spike form, the episode immediately undercuts by having him say “ow” instead of swooning romantically). The fact that “Fool For Love”, Spike’s major backstory episode, is so determined to paint him as a romantic--and in particular, a disappointed, frustrated romantic--that it is willing to contradict canon to do so, tells you that this choice was important for framing Spike and his new, ongoing thematic role.

I’ve talked in the past about how season five is all about the tension between the mythical and the mortal--between big, grand, sweeping narratives, and the reality of being human. Buffy is the Slayer, but she’s also just a girl who loses her mother. Dawn is the key, but she’s also just a confused and hormonal fourteen-year-old. Willow is a powerful witch, but she also just wants her girlfriend to be okay. Glory is a god, but she’s also a human man named Ben, and finds herself increasingly weakened by his emotions. And Spike embodies this tension perfectly. He’s a soulless vampire with a lifetime of bloodshed behind him, but he’s also this silly, human man who wants to love and be loved. He wants big, grand things, but every time they are frustrated by a Victorian society, a rejection, a chip, a pratfall, or dying with an “ow”. Furthermore, his season five storyline is all about the tension between loving in an exalted, yet often selfish way, versus loving in a “real” or selfless way. 

There was a fascinating piece a ways back that discussed how Spike’s attempts to woo Buffy in season five almost perfectly match the romantic narratives of Courtly Love. In the words of the author:

The term "Courtly Love" is used to describe a certain kind of relationship common in romantic medieval literature. The Knight/Lover finds himself desperately and piteously enamored of a divinely beautiful but unobtainable woman. After a period of distressed introspection, he offers himself as her faithful servant and goes forth to perform brave deeds in her honor. His desire to impress her and to be found worthy of her gradually transforms and ennobles him; his sufferings -- inner turmoil, doubts as to the lady's care of him, as well as physical travails -- ultimately lends him wisdom, patience, and virtue and his acts themselves worldly renown.

You can see for yourself how well that description fits Spike’s arc. He fixates on the torturous, abject nature of his love, and has it in his head that he can perform deeds and demonstrate virtue, and this will prove to Buffy that he is worthy of her. But despite Spike’s gradual ennobling over the course of the season, I think it would be a mistake to see the season as using the Courtly Love narrative uncritically, or even just ironically. The same way it would be a mistake to see season two as using the Gothic uncritically. Spike is as much Don Quixote as he is Lancelot. He is a character that deliberately tries to act out romantic tropes, giving the writing an opportunity to satirize those tropes, including the tropes of chivalric romance. In particular, the writing criticizes Spike’s (very chivalric) fixation on love as a personal agony, something that is more about pain--and specifically, his pain--than building a real relationship. Over and over in season five, he is forced to abandon these sorts of flattering romantic mindsets in favor of a more complicated reality. 

So at first, Spike’s “deeds” tend to be shallow and vaguely transactional. He tries to help Buffy in “Checkpoint” even though she doesn’t want it (and insults her when she doesn’t appreciate it), he asks “what the hell does it take?” when Buffy is unimpressed by him not feeding on “bleeding disaster victims” in “Triangle”, he rants bitterly at a mannequin when Buffy fails to be grateful to him for taking her to Riley in “Into the Woods”, and he is angry and confused when Buffy is unmoved by his offer to stake Drusilla in “Crush”. While these attempts to symbolically reject his evilness are startling for a soulless vampire, and although Spike certainly feels like he is fundamentally altering himself for Buffy’s sake, none of it is based on understanding or supporting Buffy in a way that she would actually find substantial. Moreover, he lashes out when his gestures fail to win her attention or affection. He has an idea in his head of how their romantic scenes should play out, and reacts petulantly when reality fails to live up to it. 

But these incidents of self-interested narrativizing are also continuously contrasted with scenes in which Spike reacts with real generosity, or is surprised when he realizes he’s touched something emotionally genuine. When Buffy seeks him out in “Checkpoint”, his mannerisms instantly change when he realizes she actually needs real help (“You’re the only one strong enough to protect them”), rather than the performed help he offered at the beginning of the episode. At the end of “Fool For Love” he’s struck dumb by Buffy’s grief, and his antagonistic posturing all evening melts away. He abandons his romantic vision of their erotic, life-and-death rivalry in favor of real, awkward emotional intimacy. In “Forever” he tries to anonymously leave flowers for Joyce, and reacts angrily when he’s denied—but this time not because he wanted something from Buffy. Simply because he wanted to do something meaningful. 

This contradictory behavior comes to a head in “Intervention”, the episode in which Spike finally begins to understand the difference between real and transactional generosity. Up until that point, Spike has been reacting both selfishly and unselfishly, but he hasn’t been able to truly distinguish between them, which is why he keeps repeating the same mistakes. Although he touches something real at the end of “Fool For Love”, for instance, he goes on to rifle through Buffy’s intimates in the very next episode. And so “Intervention” has Spike go to extremes of fakeness and reality. He gives up on having the real Buffy, and seeks out an artificial substitute that lets him live out his cheesiest romance novel scripts. It’s important that the Buffybot isn’t just a sexbot, even if he does have sex with her. She’s a bot he plays out romantic scenarios with the way he played them with Harmony in “Crush”, allowing him to almost literally live within a fiction. But then he “gives up” on having Buffy in a way that’s actually real, by offering up his life. He lets himself be tortured, and potentially killed, for no other reason than that to do otherwise would cause Buffy pain. The focus is on her pain, not his. For the first time, he acts like the Knight he’s been trying to be all along. He performs a grand, heroic deed that causes the object of his affection to see him in a different light, and even grant him a kiss. Yet ironically, as part of learning the difference between real and fake, he ceases to press for Buffy’s reciprocation. Through the end of season five, Spike continues to act the selfless Knight, assisting Buffy in her heroism without asking for anything in return. Which culminates in his declaration that he knows Buffy “will never love him”, even after he’s promised her the deed of protecting Dawn, and even though she allows a kind of intimacy by letting him back in her house. He proves that he sees those gestures for what they are, rather than in a transactional light. The irony of the way Spike fulfills the narrative of chivalric romance, is that his ennobling involves letting aspects of that narrative go. 

In a Courtly Love narrative, the object of the Knight’s affection is fundamentally pedestalized. The Knight himself might be flawed, but the woman he pines after is not. She is “divinely beautiful” and “unobtainable”, something above him and almost more than human. This is why it’s so comic that in Don Quixote, which was a direct satire of chivalric romance, Alonso Quixano’s “lady love” is a vulgar peasant farmgirl who has no idea who he is. (Think of the way Spike asks if Buffy is tough in “School Hard” or threatens to “take her apart” despite “how brilliant she is” in “The Initiative”, followed by scenes where Buffy is acting like the teenage girl she is. Or how Giles in “Checkpoint” says that Buffy has “acquired a remarkable focus” before cutting to Buffy yawning.). Although it’s true that Buffy is beautiful, and supernatural, and profoundly moral, she is also very human, and the writing is very concerned with that humanity. Season five in particular, as I’ve mentioned, is preoccupied with the duality of Buffy’s mythic and mortal nature. Thus it becomes significant that Buffy is assigned such a heightened role in Spike’s chivalric narrative. Just Spike is at once Lancelot and Don Quixote, Buffy is at once Achilles, Dulcinea, and a coming-of-age protagonist. 

And part of the “lesson” of Spike’s arc is for him to see both sides of the roles they embody. One of my favorite things about the scene in Buffy’s house in “The Gift” is how adroitly it conveys the dualities of both Buffy and Spike with simple, but poetic imagery and language. Buffy stands above Spike on her steps, conveying her elevated role, and Spike honors the way her heroic status has inspired him by physically looking up to her as he explains that he expects nothing from her. But by expecting nothing from her, and promising to protect her sister, he also honors the fact that she is a real person with no obligation to him, and a younger sister she cares about more than anything. He also honors his own duality by at once making Knightly promises, and acknowledging that he sees through his former delusions: “I know that I’m a monster, but you treat me like a man.” In “Fool For Love” he tried to acknowledge the same duality of realism and romance, by declaring to Cecily that “I know I’m a bad poet, but I’m a good man.” But at the time, he was an innocent, whose desire to be seen, and whose romantic avoidance of “dark, ugly things”, left him unprepared to understand how Cecily really saw him (similar to Spike’s insistence in “Crush” that what he and Buffy have “isn’t pretty, but it’s real” just before Buffy locks him out). Spike is a character defined simultaneously by continuous disillusionment and dogged aspiration, which is why he makes perfect sense as a character to embody a season torn between the pain of being human, and the wonder of the gift of love.

Fittingly, the season ends with Spike’s most devastating loss of innocence of all. He fails to be the hero for Buffy or Dawn (note that Knightly language he uses on the tower: “I made a promise to a lady”), and he loses the woman he loves. He may have become more virtuous, but unlike in a chivalric romance, that virtue wins him neither Buffy, nor something flattering like “world reknown.” The climax of the “The Gift” is full of romance—a god, a troll hammer, a damsel on a tower, a heroic self-sacrifice, a vampire transformed into a Knight—but the end result is that Buffy is dead, in part because he wasn’t good enough, and all that he and the Scoobies can do is grieve. Stories got Spike nothing, even when reality finally lived up to them. It is a swan song to the myths of childhood, and on the other side of Glory’s portal, Spike and the other characters will have to confront a world where those myths have been left behind.

part 4: “But I can’t fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason.”: Buffy and Spike as a blended self

[my-writings-and-musings]

MTMTE Headcannon Prompt

Sharing a Berth

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: You're Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Whirl

·Upon saving his life in an act of stupid determination, you suddenly find yourself one of his closest friends, and that means nothing gets to hurt you.

·Humans are extra delicate when sleeping, so be prepared for some extra security at night, which necessitates a total move from your room into his.

·Oh but don't worry, he's already quite prepared, and in fact he has a little tissue box set up on his nightstand amongst all the clocks!

·Upon being informed of your actual sleeping habits and how writing your name on the box isn't quite sufficient to make it a bed, he has an extra large inflatable mattress sent straight from earth, but has you handle setting it up so he doesn't pop it.

·He's actually a fairly considerate roommate, but you do wake up to see a worried yellow optic looking down on you from time to time, which he quickly tells you is just a part of your dream so go back to sleep please.

·One night you're actually able to get an answer out of him, mostly because he just can't stand the stress of not knowing any longer; how can he be sure you keep breathing ALL night?!

·No amount of reassurance regarding your natural ability to breathe without even thinking about it helps, and eventually you have to go to the extreme and suggest sleeping closer to comfort him, because if he can't relax and get the rest he needs you're ALL in trouble.

·He doesn't mean to be rude, it's just that he's friends with RUNG and you're still the WEAKEST person he hangs out with, it's a lot of pressure!

·Finally you realize that the best solution is his cockpit, and he concedes it's just crazy enough to work, and every night he stuffs some blankets and pillows in there and let's you chill with your phone before bedtime.

·It makes it so much better but if you're ever under the weather or having any kind of discomfort due to human strangeness his panic returns, especially if you ever have a case of the hiccups, which scares him so badly the first time it happens he tears through the ship and breaks into the medical bay screaming "RATCHET THEY'RE DEAD YOU HAVE TO SAVE THEM"

·Honestly everyone is just so happy he cares openly and that you're such a relatively good influence on him, even Rung says as much, but he does secretly confide in you that he likes when you stroke his antenna. (If you tell anyone he won't kill you but his feelings will be hurt and that's basically the same thing.)

Trailcutter

·You have to ask him to let you spend the night because he never even thinks to ask, no matter how much he may want to, and he's absolutely shocked when you bring it up due to no one asking him for something other than a force field in forever!

·He's absolutely delighted but that whiplashes to worry in an instant, especially looking at you up close, where you're absolutely miniscule next to him even if you're the tallest human ever.

·It's impossible for him to say no, but he does make you promise that the two of you will be as careful as possible to make sure it's safe, and that you don't tell anyone if it goes wrong...

·Truthfully his favorite thing is just simple snuggling, preferably with your face close to his so you can talk, and maybe squishing your cheeks together for extra cuddles.

·If you suggest setting up a little nest on his broad chest he wants to go all in, complete with a mattress, and is over the moon when you agree to do so.

·He is going to say goodnight in the happiest voice you've ever heard, and his spark is humming with so much excitement on his big frame you can actually feel it through the mattress, but it's like a nice massage from a gigantic purr more than anything.

·Due to his difficulties staying fueled up, he also struggles a little with keeping a regular sleep schedule, and often wakes up multiple times at night groggy and frustrated he can't get the rest he needs.

·While you can hardly cure his condition, you're more than capable of being there in these moments, acting as a soft and soothing presence to guide him back to sleep.

·Gentle pats on his helm and scritches of his little chin accent go a very long way, as will slow massages to his bulky temples when a hangover threatens to cause an ache, and he credits it all to your tiny human hands being so delicate.

·Of course he wants to help you out too, especially when you've been one of the few friends he's ever had that like him for who he is and not what he does, so he feels bad that his huge size limits him to stroking a digit along your back when you want some attention.

·Reassuring him is as simple as a tender kiss to his cheek and a reminder that you're not spending nights with him to get something out of him, but be warned, if you surprise him too badly the panic bubble will activate and you'll be in that force field for about half an hour with the brightest blushing bot in the universe.

Nautica

·This femme is all about sleepovers and new experiences so you'd better believe she's pumped for her first one with a human, enough that she'll probably invite you over first, but with slightly restrained excitement so she doesn't intimidate your tiny self.

·From the moment she met you she's been overflowing with questions, and that hasn't stopped or even slowed down since you became friends, in fact it's probably increased!

·When you come to her room she's already prepared it for a tiny guest, and has actually crafted a little add on to her own berth so you can safely share it, but she fully intends on improving it in the future.

·It's a little hard to get settled when she's absolutely bursting with questions, some of which she's been too shy to ask in public, but you can't help but be amused by how so much of her desire clearly comes from wanting to know more about you specifically.

·At first her nuzzles are more affectionate and curious, but when she's blindsided by how soft and warm your little body is she starts to want to be close for comfort, which is made difficult by how nervous she is about hurting you.

·It's with an increasingly brilliant blush that she confesses how she's often slept with something in her arms, from a toy in her youth to various projects she's drifted off while working on, and she fears this habit may result in her subconsciously pulling you in at night.

·Despite the threat of death by cuddling, you immediately start gushing at the cuteness she's just described, which only makes her hide her face in her hands and flush brighter.

·Thankfully she is indeed able to recover from her embarrassment and sleep without hugging you to bits, but you're not able to ignore her adorable twitches as she dreams, her expression shifting as she mumbles and shifts through the night.

·Eventually she learns about the concept of pillow forts from you, and thus you enter a brave new frontier, one where physics hardly matter in the face of her desire for the ultimate snooze and chill spot.

·Being inside makes her feel more confident, so be prepared for her to pull you close and really cuddle for the first time, her touch so careful and delicate you can't help but notice how much care is in her every movement.

·Though she still has questions, she finally finds that the simple pleasure of holding you at night for a light doze in the little fort is more comforting than anything else in the universe, and more than once the two of you drift off in total contentment.

[mirthful-sonnet]

Rise Above the Ashes  | Chapter 3

Summary: Jean and Mikasa find a remedy against their nightmares, Armin has an announcement, and despite the political tensions in Paradis the peace negotiations go forward. 

Notes:  Thanks once again to @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading this <3

Warning: None

Ao3

Time was a blur that now consisted of nothing but restlessness and constant visits to the hospital.

That didn’t matter to Mikasa.

A restful sleep was something alien to her. She might as well spend her time beside Jean, trying to make up for yet another failing on her part.

It had all happened too fast, but she knew that the man could have reached her if Jean had not stepped in first. Her thoughts were too muddled, with the quietness of the hospital making the violent scene and Jean’s drug-induced confession echo inside her head.      

I think I even loved you. Since we were trainees.

She was aware that he had a crush on her back then, something she had easily ignored. Yet knowing the depth of it and that he possibly still felt the same brought plenty of surprise and confusion.

Did he still feel the same way for her? No, that was impossible, and she could not bring herself to acknowledge it. Even the thought of doing it terrified her. He certainly showed no signs of remembering his words once he woke up again, and she didn’t expect him to. Not when he was still battling between life and death.

She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of death, at the mere idea of Jean dying. He had proved himself stronger and more stubborn than anyone had expected.

The doctor had described his case as nothing short of a miracle, as one of Jean’s lungs had collapsed and he had caught an infection that led to a critical fever. They had inserted a tube into his chest to help drain the excess blood and air caused by the wounds, and this morning they had finally removed it. While there was still pain, he was alive and that’s what mattered.

During the entire treatment, Mikasa remained by his side.

Jean constantly told her to go home and rest, but she rarely listened, opting to watch over him when Jean’s mother wasn’t around. She took a break from her volunteering at the orphanage and her work passing down messages to the queen. The rest of the group continued their negotiations while she and Mrs. Kirschtein watched over Jean.  

Meeting Jean’s mother had brought her an unexpected sense of inner peace, her warm and caring personality making it easier to confront the guilt and uncertainty that plagued her. It took every ounce of composure to keep her from breaking down and falling on her knees with apologies when she met Mrs. Kirschtein.

The woman had smiled kindly at her, saying that she was happy that Jean had a friend looking after him so thoroughly. The reassurance in her hazel eyes was more than enough to make her feel better. It came unbidden, but she couldn’t help but be reminded of her own mother. The light that had been cruelly snuffed out of her life when her age could still be counted with her fingers.

While she felt a strange ache when watching them, she also liked to see Mrs.Kirschtein still fuss around her son, who could only roll his eyes while hiding a smile, clearly glad to have her present.

She immediately admired the lady, who put on a brave face despite the terror that had almost taken her son away from her. Mikasa had unintentionally witnessed her in such a vulnerable state during the early stages of Jean’s recovery that she had felt like an intruder.

It hadn’t been long since Jean’s mother arrived, having immediately taken the first train that was available to come to the capital with nothing but her garments and a broken heart. Mikasa had just returned but stopped when she saw her beside Jean’s unconscious form through the gap of the room’s door, fitting woolen socks over his limp feet as her only son battled for his life.

“Remember that time you fell down while playing with the neighborhood kids? I held you tight and you kept complaining about how you would be able to learn to take care of me if I kept fussing around you as if you were a baby.” She had said as she fit the blankets around his shivering form, a slight tremor in her voice as if she was trying not to cry. “You were always such a sweet child. Now look at you, a grown man but still getting into trouble. It won’t matter how older you get, because mom will always be here to take care of you.” Mikasa strained to look at the woman’s slouched shape, now crying freely. “Because you are still my little boy, my sun, and my sweet child.”

Mikasa realized then that there were tears streaming down her own cheeks as she watched the grieving mother. With one last glance, she had decided to leave them alone.

Now she was back in front of his room, holding a bag full of extra blankets and a packaged meal. At the same time, Mrs. Kirschtein opened the door to exit, startled at seeing Mikasa.

“Mikasa!” She exclaimed. “How lovely to see you! Although I thought you were back at your house resting.”

Mikasa shook her head, not wanting to explain that she barely got any rest as her sleep was filled with nightmares of blood and unforgiving steel.

“I slept for a good enough time,” she lied, “I figured I could bring more stuff for him. It’s the least I can do.”

The woman’s hazel gaze was gentle, reaching out to grasp her free hand. “My dear, there’s nothing more you could possibly do for my son. You have rarely left his side! Please don’t strain yourself so much, now I’ll have to fret over you too.”

Mikasa could only smile, squeezing back her hand. The bittersweet ache came back as she remembered her mother again, and she wondered if Jean had the same kind of memories with his mom when he was a child. Did she hold him when he had nightmares? Did she sing to the scars on his knees when he fell?

“My son still likes to act all haughty sometimes, but he cares so much. And he is worried for you. We both are.” The older woman added, looking genuinely concerned as she took in Mikasa’s weary appearance.

Mikasa knew the circles under her eyes must have given her away. “I know, Mrs. Kirschtein. I’m just…I care for him too. And this is the least I could do for all the trouble he put himself in for me.”

Her voice had come out weak, as she remembered that this wasn’t the first time Jean had saved her. Mrs. Kirschtein looked at her in disapproval. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, sweet girl. My son told me what you did to that horrible man who hurt him, and I couldn’t thank you enough for protecting him. I have only known you for a few weeks, but I have come to think of you as my daughter. That’s why I’m asking you to take it easy and allow yourself to rest and not worry. If not for Jean, then do it for me.”

Something jolted in her suddenly and she surged forward to hug the older woman tightly, with tears gathered in her eyes and a lump in her throat. She was mildly embarrassed, but the woman’s motherly affection had touched a part of her that had been hollow since she was that wide-eyed child living in the mountains. The older woman had stiffened momentarily at Mikasa’s unexpected reaction, but after a moment she hugged her back just as tightly, happy to offer the girl even just a little bit of comfort.          

                                                          ***

Jean’s coughs echoed along the hallway as he stopped to catch his breath.

“I don’t think this was a good idea,” Mikasa said, her hold on Jean’s hand faltering. He was already recovered enough to walk, but he still had to strain sometimes to breathe properly.

“Hah, don’t worry about this,” Jean managed to get out as he got his breath back and continued walking while holding onto Mikasa.  

“If I spent any more time cooped up in that room, I would have jumped out from the window already. Then we would all be having regrets,” he added, his steps somewhat clumsy but still steady.

The hallway was dead silent, with bluish moonbeams filtering through the windows. The only sounds were those of their steps. Jean had wanted to take a walk since he felt suffocated in his room, and Mikasa insisted on walking with him.

“Stop being morbid,” Mikasa chided him.      

Jean snorted; his breath was still strained. “It comes naturally these days.”

Mikasa looked at him, taking in the weariness permeating the smile on his face. A walking contradiction. There was still no sign of him remembering what he had said weeks ago in his delirious state. She suddenly gripped his arm tightly without noticing and he turned to her, a questioning look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, his concern evident. It seemed like such a Jean thing to worry over her while he was the one who had been on the brink of death.

“Jean, I…” She trailed off, not really knowing what to say, or how to acknowledge his past confession.  

“What is it?” He asked.

Mikasa paused and then just shook her head, afraid that she would say the wrong thing. “It’s nothing, I just don’t want you to joke like that.”

Jean gave her a small smile and they continued walking. It felt odd to be able to walk like this again, even if his steps were awkward. His days had been filled with medications and therapy, visits from his friends, and the usual nightmares that were forgotten once he woke up and saw that Mikasa was still by his side.

The visits brought him great comfort, whether it was Connie bringing him books to read, Armin suddenly opening a chessboard mid-conversation, Reiner reading letters from Falco and Gabi aloud, Pieck talking endlessly about new spots she had discovered in town, or Annie sneaking in donuts (her favorite treat) for him to eat.    

Right now, he was glad to break from the usual routine even if just for a while, and Mikasa remaining by his side made everything better. He only wished she didn’t feel so guilty or even felt the need to trouble herself so much for him.

Jean almost found their current situation amusing. It seemed that he had spent half of his life wanting Mikasa’s attention while she looked elsewhere, something that he could never resent her for. But now they were here together in the most uncertain of circumstances, caught up in the middle of trying to build a paradise out of a blank canvas.

Armin constantly gave him updates on the progress of the treaty and other legislations that had been approved. Historia also sent him notes notifying him about their progress and wishing him a speedy recovery since she couldn’t come in person. As a monarch, it wasn’t possible, and she had to juggle her favors carefully.

Their efforts had not been interrupted despite the attack, which Jean was immensely relieved about. He knew, however, that they could not let their guard down as it was clear that the hatred from their adversaries would not stop there. His wounded body was now the tangible evidence of that hatred. The culprits were awaiting a trial, and Yeagerist officials had sent a half-hearted apology for what happened.

Bastards.

Now there was an upcoming ceremony for the peace treaty to be signed, which would be highlighted by the first ever air show on the island. A demonstration of peace that also displayed the military and technological advancements that were taking place at a rapid speed in the country.

“Are you sure you’re ready to leave?” Mikasa’s voice interrupted him from his thoughts. She had an unreadable expression on her face.

“Of course, I am. I have gone from breaking a dozen bones to turning into a titan. A knife in my lung is nothing to me.”    

Mikasa was quiet for a moment, pondering on his words. “What was it like?”

“Hmm?”

“Turning into a titan. What was that like?” Mikasa asked as they turned in a corner and faced another hallway.  

Jean paused for a moment until he finally spoke. “I’m not sure I remember exactly what happened. At one point it was just me and Connie holding onto each other, wondering if what we did was enough. And then…it was just nothingness. Some part of me was alive and conscious, but the rest…well, it was like I had no control over myself. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.”

They kept walking slowly, their shapes casting shadows on the blank walls. At least in those moments that had seemed final he had not been alone. After the rumbling, he always had his friends with him, the terror they had faced linking all of them permanently. But Mikasa had to bear the weight of the aftermath by herself.

“I bet I looked handsome as a titan,” he tried to lighten the mood.

“I don’t remember. I just took off without so much as a goodbye.” Mikasa muttered.

Jean stopped in his tracks, tightening his hold on her hand so she would look at him. “Hey now, what is this? Nobody can blame you for how you reacted after doing what you did. I don’t think I would have even had the strength to keep going, but you did anyway.”

“But I could have-” Mikasa started.    

“Stop, you’re here with me now, aren’t you?” He interrupted.  

Mikasa wanted to protest again, but something about Jean’s expression made her stay quiet, and she only nodded. Deep down she knew he had a point. Killing Eren had been like tearing out her own limbs, leaving behind an empty shell of a girl, a kite cut off from its string, left to drift aimlessly. But the guilt she felt over leaving her friends behind to face whatever came their way was still there. Even mourning Eren made her feel terrible, as she struggled to reconcile the boy who had saved her with the one who had caused so much destruction and suffering. In a way, being here was a way of atoning for all the time she didn’t spend with the group, who had to face and struggle to fix the outcome of that destruction. But a more selfish part of her just wanted to spend more time near Jean.  

“I do think though,” Jean said as they continued walking, “that you would have loved all the places we visited.”

Jean had told her about them, weaving stories about the cherry blossoms of Hizuru, the vast deserts of the Middle Eastern countries, the icy weather of the northern isles, and the active nightlife at Marley’s emerging cities. There was something extraordinary about how humanity was finding a way to rise back up despite the destruction that happened. There was still a long way to go, but little details like the ones he recounted to Mikasa gave him some hope for the future.  

Mikasa loved to hear about the different places they visited, inevitably thinking about Eren and Armin’s dreams of going outside the walls. At that point in time, she had never taken much part of their dream, happy to simply watch their enthusiasm about the outside world. But listening to Jean’s stories made her feel as if she were treading through those landscapes herself.

“Maybe I’ll see some of those places eventually,” she said, letting him stretch his arms as he walked, still holding onto her hand.

“If by some chance you find yourself lost in a hellhole like Marley’s capital, I have a spare room in my apartment,” Jean commented, taking another pause to catch his breath before continuing to walk.

Mikasa looked at him. “You’ve told me dozens of stories about your travels, but I haven’t heard much from the place you live in.”

Jean was thoughtful for a moment. “The capital city is a nice place. At least right now it is. When I arrived, it was mostly rubble and shelters for refugees. The summers were infernal too.” He told her. “But I did meet some good people there, and everyone worked hard to preserve what was left and rebuild what was destroyed. Despite everything, I think…that I miss it somehow.”

It was true, he didn’t think that he would ever come to think of Marley as his permanent home, but he had still made some memories there that he held dear. The good times, the bad times, the friends, and the lovers he had there, they were all a part of him too.          

Mikasa asked him for more details, and he went on to tell her about all the work they did in the shelters, how he had painted the walls of his apartment when he found them too plain, and the neighbors who introduced him to Marleyan cuisine and the subsequent disaster he had caused trying to cook an octopus. It made Mikasa laugh, picturing a frantic Jean trying not to burn his apartment down.

He also told her about the historical landmarks that survived the rumbling, the capital square that held all the government buildings, the hectic nightlife at the entertainment quarter, and the different dialects and languages he had discovered.

“I was terrible at first,” Jean commented, “I earned a good slap from a girl when I tried speaking to her in her dialect.”

“What did you tell her?” Mikasa asked.

“Something about my privates when I just wanted to ask her name,” Jean replied, his face flushed in embarrassment.

Mikasa stared at him blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound ringing through the quiet hallway. His embarrassing memory was forgotten as he took her in, not used to seeing her laughing so freely.

“I’m sorry-” she tried to say between bouts of laughter, failing to control it. “Oh no, that’s terrible but so funny Jean!”

She continued laughing until she finally had some control of herself. Then she looked at him and noticed that he was staring at her with something she could only describe as awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Mikasa asked between chuckles, her flushed face now matching his despite the darkness of the hallway.

“Oh-um sorry, it’s just that I’ve never seen you laugh like that before,” he looked away, flustered. “It’s nice.”

Mikasa felt her cheeks burn more fiercely and she let go of his hand to go near one of the windows in the hallway, calming herself down. She didn’t remember if she ever laughed like that before. Something about Jean made smiling and laughing easy instead of a struggle.

He was standing beside her now, taking in her reddened face and black hair coming loose from her hair tie. Anyone would say she looked disheveled and tired, but he only marveled at how effortlessly beautiful she was even now. He truly was hopeless, wasn’t he?

“I guess it’s new to me too,” she was still not looking at him. “Your tales, they make me happy.”

“I’m glad,” he muttered, turning to look at the outlines of the city buildings. “All these things I’ve been telling you, the places I have seen and the people I have met… they’re all still standing because of you, Mikasa.”

Mikasa immediately shook her head in denial. “No, I-”

“It’s the truth,” he interrupted, unnerved that Mikasa thought so lowly of herself. “The people that have survived and find a reason to smile and hope every day, the way everything is rising back up even better than before, you made it possible.”

She shifted in her feet, slightly flustered at his open praise. It wasn’t just her. All of them had helped stop Eren, she wanted to say. Plus, her friends were the ones who were working tirelessly to bring peace. But she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt from his words, from the anecdotes that proved that not everything was lost.

“Thanks, Jean,” she simply said, now thinking of something else she had been meaning to tell him but didn’t know how to.

They remained in comfortable silence, looking at the sleeping city before them. Before Jean could tell her that they had to go back, she finally spoke.

“Jean?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” Mikasa murmured, twiddling her thumbs. “Since you’re already set to be discharged and will have to follow up your treatment, I was thinking…why don’t you stay at my house?”

She had said the last words too fast, but Jean’s face made it clear that he understood her.

“What? N-no Mikasa, I can’t,” he stammered while shaking his head, “I’ll be fine in my lodgings, I can take care of myself.”

Mikasa felt her heart sink at his words, but she persisted. “I know you can… but they expect you to follow a strict routine and you’re still struggling to even walk and breathe. You’re going to need someone to help you and the rest of the group won’t be able to be there when you need it. Please, Jean, let me do this for you.”

Jean only shook his head again, even if he knew what she said was true. The group would be at the council every day while Armin gave him time off to fully recover. His mom was set to go back to Trost tomorrow after he had convinced her that he was fine and would be looked after, something that was a partial lie since he didn’t really have anyone but himself. They expected him to follow strict medications which was no problem to him, but he also had to dress and clean his wounds routinely while also having to work and do normal chores.          

“Mikasa, I really appreciate it, but I can’t burden you with my condition. I promise that I’ll be fine.” His tone was firm, but the more he denied it the more desperate she became to convince him.

“You’re not a burden Jean. You could never be a burden to me. That’s why I’m asking you to consider it. This isn’t the first time you have put yourself in harm’s way for me. This is…this is the least I can do.”

Jean frowned, a little taken aback that she remembered that he had saved her once before. “What do you mean it’s the least you could do? You have done more than enough for me just by staying by my side. Don’t do this out of pity or just because you feel that you need to compensate me for something. I would take those stabbings a thousand times again if I had to.”

“It’s not out of pity!” Mikasa’s voice was shrill, which neither of them expected, and Jean blanched slightly at her tone. She reached out to grasp his arm and bowed her head, silently apologizing for raising her voice. “I want to help you,” she whispered, “it would mean everything to me if you would let me help you. We agreed that we would always be there for each other, and I meant that. Please let me help you, Jean.”

He exhaled sharply, trying to hold on to even just a sliver of stubbornness, but watching her pleading face made whatever resolve he had finally break.

Jean let out another exhale and finally nodded. “All right…I’ll stay with you, Mikasa.”

The smile that lit up her face made it worth it to him, and whatever protests he still had were quickly forgotten.

“Good, thank you, Jean.” She replied, and he wondered why she was thanking him when she was the one burdening herself for him.  

He stepped forward, unable to help himself, and took a stray lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I’ll try to be a good guest.”

“As long as no octopus is involved, I’m not worried.” Mikasa deadpanned.

This time it was his laughter ringing through the hallway.

                                                         ***

Life as a soldier had taught Jean to get accustomed to every circumstance possible. So, in that way, Jean easily got used to living with Mikasa.

It wasn’t a big house, but it was enough. He had his own room and it was suitable for the work he would continue to do from a distance.

They fall into an easy routine, a small semblance of normality in a pattern filled with triggers and bad dreams.

He wakes up, the tremors of his nightmares still permeating his body as he helps Mikasa prepare coffee and breakfast, never ignorant of the stiffness in her movements during the early hours of the morning as well. No doubt still stunned by her own nightly terrors. But they are grateful that the worst kind of nightmares are kept at bay for now, and their demons lay forgotten when they greet each other and make small talk over their meal.

Mikasa learns just how stubborn Jean can be, as despite his condition he insists on helping her with every chore around the house. She only relents slightly when it comes to cooking, with Jean making savory omelets that she can’t get enough of.

There are times when her curiosity threatens to get the best of her, where she wants to ask him what he meant by his dazed confession, but she stops herself in time. She pushes it into a hidden corner of her mind to avoid breaking this bubble of comfort - this castle in the sky they were building together.    

Jean on the other hand learned how fussy she could be, a trait he had somewhat noticed back then with Eren and Armin. But now he finds himself as the target of her attention, and it’s a little overwhelming. Amid her attention, he also notices how odd she acts around him sometimes-as if she wanted to tell him something but kept herself from doing so. He didn’t want to pressure her into anything, so he doesn’t question her about it. Instead, he is endlessly grateful; for her watchful eyes when he is walking alone, for the snacks she leaves on his desk as he drowns himself in paperwork, and for her presence in general.  

“I think Mikasa is looking to replace me as your mother”      

Jean grimaced. “Mom, please don’t start.”

“I’m only telling the truth, Jeanbo. She’s been watching over you like a hawk! It’s almost like I’m not needed around here.” His mom said, a teasing undertone in her voice.

“Mikasa has always been protective and she…well she feels guilty over what happened. I don’t know how to make her understand that none of this is her fault.” He sighed; with the book he was reading now forgotten across his lap.

“She’s a caring girl, that one. I am sure she will understand eventually. But for now, just be grateful that you have someone like her in your life, Jeanbo.”

Jean stayed quiet, taking in her words, and then shook his head. “I’ll also be grateful when you stop calling me that and never mention that Mikasa’s my new mom again.”

“You’re right. I think daughter-in-law is more fitting.”

“MOM!”

He was only met with endless laughter.            

It was an extraordinary thing, the solace one could find just by having another person close. Mikasa learns it through the easy rhythm they fall into in the kitchen, the little talks over the table, when they relax in the backyard, with their clothes loose due to the summer heat and faces flushed by the sun; through the endless stories he has from his travels, the concentration in his face when he’s sketching, or just the simple knowledge that he is here, living and breathing. Despite the guardedness that he still shows around her, the glimpses that she does get of his mind make her want to see the world through his eyes. She has always said that the world is cruel and beautiful, but when he is here, she can only see beauty.

There’s a glint in his hazel eyes when he tells her about the places they have been to that brings her an odd type of comfort. It’s one of the many quirks and details she notices about him. Their routine makes it impossible not to notice small details about each other.

He notices that she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s embarrassed, she notices how the warm honey hues of his eyes can change color depending on the lighting, he notes the secret dimple on her left cheek if she smiles enough, she sees the way he scratches his ear when thinking hard about something, he’s transfixed by how much her grey eyes remind him of passing clouds, and she discovers that there are more scatterings of freckles and moles on his neck and arms.

This last detail she discovers during the daily procedure of changing his bandages. As former soldiers, they have found themselves in similar situations before. But the horrors of war are not around them anymore; now it’s just the both of them in the quietness of her house.

It takes great patience to convince him to let her help him, his protests that he can do it himself eventually drowned out. But when he bares his chest and the map of scars adorning it, she sometimes wonders if this was a good idea at all.

“Gruesome, huh?” He tells her one day, avoiding her eyes as his buttoned shirt lays open.

Mikasa snaps out of her stupor, immediately frowning. “Not at all, I’ve seen worse.”

She goes on to remove the bandages, trying not to wince along with him, as if she could feel his pain somehow. The sighs that escape him as she cleans and rubs the ointment on his wounds make the hairs at the back of her neck rise. There is an inevitable shyness when she sees the toned muscles of his chest and abs, when she visually traces the constellations of freckles and moles that dot the planes of smooth skin, when she sees the beauty that lays under the vestiges of war.

“Will I live to see my grandchildren, Nurse Ackerman?” Jean teases as she finishes up the task.

“Only if you behave, Mr. Kirschtein.” She teases back, pressing down the last new bandage, right over his heart.

Yes, she could get used to this.

It is easy and comforting, their new routine. They fall into it so naturally that they can almost ignore the cracks in the picture.

Almost.

Perhaps they were too hopeful or too confident that they wouldn’t have to hear each other’s night terrors, but that illusion breaks one night in which Mikasa’s screams fill the house.

Jean sat upright in his bed, having just woken up from his own nightmares, with every scream sending a dreadful shiver down his spine.

Nightmares were his nightly companions, and he and all his friends had become quite familiar with each other’s screams. The thought that Mikasa had to go through her nightmares alone pained him. The screams continued until he could not stand it anymore and walked out despite the tremors that were still shaking his body, reaching her room in no time. Her hands were tearing at her hair, and she was screaming Eren’s name in one instance while in another she was wailing for her mother and father.    

“Mikasa, wake up!” He held both of her hands tightly while she still trashed around. After a while, her screams had been reduced to small, broken whimpers. Under his tight hold she opened her eyes abruptly - her confusion clear amongst endless tears, and she suddenly grabbed Jean forcefully by his neckline as if he were a stranger.  

“It’s me Mikasa, it’s me.” Jean whispered shakily, an unbearable tension passing between them before he slowly pries her hands off him.

“Jean?” Mikasa croaked, her voice hoarse from her screams. “I’m s-I’m so sorry, Jean.”  

She could barely finish her sentence before she started sobbing, loud and broken. He remained rooted in his spot, at a loss on what to do and trying to ignore his own tremors, watching the woman he loved and the former soldier he had admired for so long cry her heart out, now listening instead to the cries of a little girl still calling for her parents.

He snapped out of his daze when she grasped at his shirt as if he were a lifeline in a sea of tears. When she turned to look at him, he wondered if it was possible to have your heart torn in two just over looking at another person’s face. She looked so broken that he wanted to somehow gather her inside his heart and let her remain there for as long as she wanted.

“Wh…w…” She tried to make out amongst her whimpers.

“Easy, easy, you’re okay now,” Jean told her gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “What were you trying to say?”

“Why…why does it hurt so much?” She fixed him with her swollen eyes, “Why does it still hurt?”

He wished he had an answer to that. Even after all these years, he didn’t think the pain would ever really stop. So, he thinks he owes it to her to be honest.

“I don’t know, Mikasa.” He said, his voice breaking a little.

She pressed her forehead to his chest, still crying. He takes that as a cue and gently pulls her to him, an embrace that she quickly returns in such a way that they don’t know who is comforting who.

He thinks they must have remained like that for a good while, with him rocking her gently in his arms like a child while she grasped his lower back, trying to stop the tremors that were still shaking him.

The whimpers quiet down, and the tension in her body loosens, so he laid her down on the bed and waited for her to fall asleep. He made shushing noises while stroking her hand, noticing the signs of exhaustion taking over. She is looking at him with a dazed expression before tightening her hold on him.

“Jean?”

“What is it?”

“Can you stay with me?” She asks, her voice sleepy.  

In any other occasion, he would have promptly denied her, deeming it too improper. But watching that look on her face and remembering the terrors that would still await him back in his room made him lose all sense.

Just one night. At least just one.

He gulped and nodded, moving to climb in and get under the covers. The immediate warmth that they feel is overwhelming, and they scramble to get closer as if each other’s touch will be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

She listened to his heartbeat, its steady pulse lulling her to sleep. His tremors died down under the gentle press of her hand, and he followed her into slumber soon after.

They have their first sleep without nightmares in years.

The moment when she wakes up in the morning is less peaceful in a way. Mikasa shoots up in her bed, feeling an onslaught of confusion and mortification when she remembered what happened.

Jean is fast asleep, his face relaxed and somehow younger, with his arm thrown over her lap. That usual subtle guardedness that he shows now completely shed.

The sight makes her heart hammer wildly and a strange warmth spreads in her chest. Before she can dwell on it or on how much she actually liked having him pressed against her, she bolts out of her room.

She doesn’t really know where she is going but she knows she must get out of there. The cold morning air greets her as she runs out of the house, running and running until she stops, gasping for breath and resting her hands on her knees.

Mist is rolling on the gravel road, revealing the scattered houses of the village in all their simpleness. She lets the coldness settle in, obliterating the heat that had overtaken her.

This was completely unexpected, and she knew it made no sense for her to react this way when she had been the one to coax him into her bed. Yet, she also knows there’s only so much sense you can have after nightmares like theirs. It was expected that they would eventually give in to that urgency, that need to cling to each other.    

A flock of birds snaps her out of her thoughts, the group flying and dipping by her house before disappearing into the nearby woodland. Soon the whole village would be waking up, and she couldn’t stay here only wearing her nightshift. She wraps her arms around herself - a futile attempt to warm herself against the cold morning air and makes her way back to the house.

The smell of coffee invades her senses when she steps in, and she sees him in the kitchen, already pouring coffee into two cups.

There’s a hint of relief in his face when he notices her, and she swallows down whatever embarrassment she still feels and greets him as usual.

He greets her back, going on to ask her what they should make for breakfast. In that way, their shyness lays forgotten and what happened earlier remains unspoken.  

Their routine for the day remains as usual, and the end of their errands sees them relaxing in her backyard like always, lazily talking about nothing and everything.  

When night falls, they’re ready to face whatever horrors await them in their sleep again.

This time, Mikasa is in what appears to be a forest, and it doesn’t take long before she notices that Eren is walking ahead of her. She tries to reach him, but he only drifts away further, occasionally looking back at her, green eyes glinting as if he’s playing a game with her.

The further he gets, the more desperate she becomes. She calls his name, but he gets even further away from her. Always far away, always unreachable.

Soon the woodland disappears, and a steep precipice appears ahead, but Eren doesn’t stop walking. She feels as if her feet are shackled while trying to reach him, and she cries out his name brokenly as he plunges down the precipice and disappears.

Instead of screams, she wakes up with cold shivers and a lump in her throat. Her body is pulled taut like a bowstring as she struggles to gain her breath back, trying to blink away her tears. Her only company was the shadows cast upon her room.  

But she then remembered that she wasn’t alone, not exactly. In another corner of her house, Jean was slumbering, probably fighting off his nightly terrors as well. It was a never-ending cycle, and yet she can’t pretend to not remember the remedy they had found against their demons: each other.

Mikasa had always put on a hard front to everybody, but she is tired, so very tired; she doesn’t want to hide or even think logically anymore. And so, ignoring all sense she stands up and makes her way to his room, her steps only a whisper against the wooden floor.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw him sitting up in his bed already, though he didn’t seem to have noticed her, looking disconcerted. In the dim light, she can see that he is paler than usual and that his eyes are wide with unshed tears. He seems to finally recognize her as she reaches for him and gently wipes away the moisture that was beginning to spill down his cheeks.

There is an unfathomable look on his face as she soothes him, and when she asks a silent question with her own red-rimmed gaze, he pauses and then moves to open the covers for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to climb in.

                                                      ***  

There was childish laughter coming from the large yard.

It was a comforting sight, watching the children of the orphanage go about their day, playing their little games.

Jean could barely remember the time when he was that carefree and innocent, he pondered as he walked with Armin around the establishment.

“Until wintertime then?” He asked, not knowing how to take the information.

“That’s what I’ve been told. They will pick delegates to go to each of the allied nations. Whoever remains here is still unclear.” Armin said as he walked, looking at Jean’s tired expression and keeping a close watch on Jean’s steps as he balanced himself on a cane. He rarely used it but since he had insisted that he was ready to attend meetings he started bringing it with him, the constant walking and touring taking its toll on his body.      

It had been common knowledge that they would need representatives in every nation, but the fact that there was already an established time for him to possibly leave Paradis took him by surprise. There were still months left for winter, and he still hadn’t made up his mind on whether he wanted to stay or leave.

They stopped in a far corner, with Jean leaning against the wooden fence, recalling a distant memory of when he was younger and stood here with his friends. In the distance, they noticed Mikasa walking in the grassy area, inspecting a group of kids who were playing on some swing sets. She noticed both of her friends watching and they waved at each other before she focused back on the children.  

“She’s been quite active here,” Armin observed.

“And yet she still feels guilty for some reason,” Jean said, fishing around his pockets until he found what he was looking for.

Armin narrowed his eyes as he watched Jean lighting up a cigarette. His friend noticed him and groaned. “What? I’ve had to deal with Mikasa scolding me already, you’re going to lecture me as well?”

“You’re still recovering from a punctured lung, Jean.”

“I’ve dealt with worse things,” Jean mumbled, exhaling puffs of smoke. He knew his friends were right, but he couldn’t help it.

He sighed and took another drag. “So, tell me about this airshow, will you? What exactly are they planning?”

“I don’t have anything to do with it, but every delegation is expected to attend of course. The Yeagerists have made sure to spend every penny on the ceremony.” Armin said as he also leaned back against the fence.

Jean snorted. “This whole thing feels like a circus, it won’t be long before they go back on their word, I’m sure.”

“Perhaps, but in the meantime, we do what we can, and what we must. Even the Yeagerists know that we have to depend on each other. Right now, we focus on peace.”

Paradis too was struggling to rise back up, with its damaged borders and the destruction of the ecosystems around the world leading to severe droughts, forest fires, and famine. If the rumbling had gone any further, there was no chance they would have survived. Currently, every country was struggling with the reforestation of their lands and developing new technologies to battle the climate crisis. The treaty would be a milestone in that direction.

“Peace is only relative,” Jean remarked.

“Of course, but we must leverage that peace, be it relative or not. I will always condemn what Eren did, but I think he would want us to take advantage of whatever chances we can take.”

“It’s not like he left us much choice,” Jean spat, and then gave a tired sigh. “But whatever is best for us, I will vouch for that and support you along the way.”

“I know you will,” Armin said, bumping Jean’s shoulder and taking in the circles under his eyes. “I don’t want you to strain yourself too much though. If you can’t attend the ceremony, I will excuse you.”

Jean shook his head, exhaling another puff of smoke. “I will be there. I won’t give those assholes the pleasure of not attending.”

Armin hummed in response. “I hear that there are many other events planned beside the ceremony for the treaty. There are rumors that sweet Vera is coming here to perform.”

Jean looked elsewhere. “I heard that as well.”

Vera was a Marleyan singer and actress who quickly rose in fame all over the continent. Her advocate work with the Alliance was well documented, as she used her cultural influence to help gather supporters and fund numerous causes. Just as her charity work was well known, so was her affair with Ambassador Kirschtein.

He had been assigned to escort her to performances and public speeches linked to their cause. One thing led to another, and it was only a matter of time before they ended up tangled between the sheets. The prospect of seeing her made him feel strange but also happy, as despite their casual flings she had also been a good friend.

“Seem like Paradis is ready to deal with the outside world, and not just through treaties,” Armin remarked.

“Oh, they’ll love her for sure, she stole hearts whenever she went,” Jean said while taking another drag.

“Did she steal yours?”

Jean rolled his eyes. “No one stole anything, she and I made our boundaries clear before we started sleeping together. It was the same for all the other women I’ve been with. They took what they wanted, and I took what I wanted.”

“You think you will ever settle down?” Armin asked.

“I don’t know…especially not after…” Jean stopped himself.  “Ah, never mind.”    

“I’m all ears,” Armin said, looking at him expectantly.

Jean remained quiet for such a long time that Armin thought he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“I’m in love with Mikasa,” Jean finally admitted, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.          

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Armin replied, looking at him sympathetically. “Have you tried telling her?”

“What? No, I’ll never tell her,” Jean said, dropping the cigarette and crushing it. “She doesn’t see me that way and I respect that. I’m happy as her friend.”

“You don’t believe that.” Armin had an eyebrow quirked.

“Oh, but I do, the time I’ve spent with her… it has kept me sane in a way,” Jean told him, then shaking his head. “I’m so in love with her it feels ridiculous. I can’t even think about settling down with anyone else even if I know I have no chance with her.”

“Why do you think that? You claim to respect her, but are you really doing that when you don’t even bother to know what she thinks?”

Jean scoffed. “I don’t need to ‘bother’ because I already know what she thinks. Her heart belongs to Eren, that’s a simple fact.”

It was Armin’s turn to scoff. “Eren is dead, Jean. She killed him if I may remind you, and she has always been a full, stronghearted person outside of him. You may love and cherish a memory, but there’s only so much love you can give to a dead man.”

Jean could only look away, staying quiet. Armin followed his tired gaze and found unsurprisingly fixed on Mikasa, who was now spinning a little girl in her arms.

“You may not believe me, but I’ve never seen her this relaxed and happy, not even when we were children.”

“I want her to be happy. That’s all I want.”

“Well, she looks happier than ever to me, and it’s because of you.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Jean rolled his eyes.

“I’m not trying to make you laugh, it’s just the truth. Take it from someone who practically grew up with her.” Armin insisted. “Besides, I don’t think I could make you laugh with that weary expression you’ve had all day. Have you even slept lately?”

“Mikasa kept me up last night,” Jean replied, before realizing what he said.

Armin looked embarrassed. “She…kept you up, huh?”

“Not that way I- for goodness’ sake, Armin! I would never take advantage of her like that!” Jean exclaimed, blushing furiously while Armin smirked.    

“Care to explain then?”

“We…ah, we’re sharing a bed, it helps with our nightmares,” Jean explained, avoiding Armin’s curious look. “It’s just sleeping I swear, somehow…somehow it makes it easier.”

Armin nodded in understanding, thinking of the solace he and Annie had found with each other in a similar way, though it was also different since their ritual had quickly taken a much more physical level.

“You don’t have to reassure me of anything, whatever you guys do is none of my business,” Armin said. “And I know you would never take advantage of her.”

Jean said nothing, still looking at Mikasa in the distance.  

“But I insist that you must be honest with her.”

“I don’t think so, Armin. Let’s leave it at that.” Jean tried to end the subject.

“I never took you for being such a pessimist. I thought you wanted to be with her since we were Scouts.”

“Even back then I was aware that there was no chance she would ever return my feelings. So, I kept my distance and ignored it. And I-well… I turned to other girls.”

Jean looked embarrassed but Armin nodded in understanding, remembering the times when Jean and Connie would come in late from having explored whatever town they were stationed in and all it had to offer. Their time in Marley had been similar in that regard, with Reiner occasionally taking part in their escapades.

“In that way, I thought I was over her for a long time. It was easy to get distracted by constant missions, carousing, and sex. I should have known my feelings would only come back stronger once I saw her again.” Jean continued, still looking ashamed. “I have accepted that I’m in love with her, but I have also accepted that I’m just her friend, and I’m happy to be that. Being by her side, that is more than enough for me.”  

Armin looked at Jean and saw that he truly meant his words. While he felt bad for his friend, he also couldn’t help his frustration at his resignation.

“You make everything sound so hopeless.” The blond complained, leaning further into the fence.

Jean smiled sadly. “I am utterly hopeless when it comes to her,” he said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it.”

“You don’t have to get over it, you can simply love unapologetically. This world…us and our friends, we have seen too much misery. We owe it to ourselves to try and get some happiness, don’t we?”

“I don’t know if that’s possible… dreams, settling down, having a family, is it all worth it when we don’t know if this so-called peace will even last?”

Armin fixed him with his gaze. “It is worth it every bit,” he affirmed. “I have to believe that because…well, I want to tell you something.”

Jean looked at him curiously as Armin fidgeted with his hands. “I uh…I am planning to propose to Annie.”

A small silence passed between them before Jean’s face broke into pure happiness despite his tiredness.

“That’s-that’s amazing, Armin! I’m proud of you.” Jean said gleefully as he stepped forward to hug his friend tightly and pat his back.

“Hey! I haven’t even asked her yet and we don’t know if she’ll say yes!” Armin laughed, still hugging Jean back.

“Of course, she’ll say yes you idiot,” Jean said. “She looks at you as if the sun shines out of your ass.”

They both laughed before separating, still holding onto each other’s arms. “I don’t know how any of this works, but would you be my best man?”

Jean was already nodding before Armin finished his sentence. “Of course, of course, I’ll do it.”

“Good, because I have no idea what to do after I ask her.”

“And you think I do?” Jean countered, and they both laughed out loud again before continuing their walk, feeling much more at ease than before and enjoying the light breeze. There was still a lot of apprehension clouding Jean’s mind, but for now, he was glad that his friend wanted to take his chance at happiness. A glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty. For now, he could be happy about that.

                                                       ***

The planes were flying at a safe distance, yet it felt as if they could graze the onlookers in a heartbeat. There was a cacophony of cheers, music, chatter, and roars from the planes that were flying overhead.

It seemed surreal that this was happening. It was almost as if all the hatred and tension that their visit had brought was broken, now replaced by celebration and merriment. The cheers came and went the same way the steel birds flew and dipped across the blue sky.

Jean had stood on the stage at the town square some hours ago, tall and defiant despite the scars he bore underneath his formal clothing and the cane that signified his survival.

His presence had given everyone much to talk about, some in puzzlement and others in admiration. He gave a speech with no problem and made sure to look at every Yeagerist official directly in the eye as they shook hands, silently telling them that this was his home.  

Now he stood at the edges of the city that overlooked an extensive lake, watching with the members of the delegation as planes flew in unpredictable ways overhead, a sign of progress and more things to come.

He leaned against the railing, looking at the other delegations on the lower levels. Standing amongst the Hizurian delegation was Mikasa, who was also focused on the aerial spectacle while exchanging words with Kiyomi. Even with her small height the Hizurian diplomat still had an imposing presence whenever she went.  

Almost as if Mikasa had felt the weight of his stare, she suddenly turned her head and found his gaze. Normally he would have been flustered but watching the smile that she gave him made him feel calm even in the middle of all the excitement that was happening around them. He smiled back before Kiyomi got her attention again and he turned back to the planes.

The sight of the planes flying and turning across the sky made him feel a small ache as he remembered Hange. He was sure the late commander would have loved this. Her excitement over all things unknown had left a huge gap amongst the former soldiers. Now all they could do was continue their endeavors for peace, just as she would have wanted.

He was hit by a barrage of memories as he watched, also wondering how Levi was faring while also finding reassurance in knowing that he was in good company and getting the rest he deserved. But just as he remembered past recollections, a small hidden memory surged up to the surface of his mind, now clear and prominent.

I liked you Mikasa, you know? I think I even loved you, since we were trainees.                            

No, it couldn’t be.

I wish he was here, I wish I could bring him back. I’m sorry I can’t do anything, I’m so sorry Mikasa…

The strange behavior Mikasa sometimes showed around him now made sense, and Jean suddenly felt as if he were about to vomit, his face blanching.

He had resolved to be Mikasa’s friend and not make things strange between them. But he had failed with flying colors.

With one last glance at Mikasa- who was still engaged in conversation, he backed away and left the compound, ignoring the questioning stares from his friends.

He walked as fast as he could even in his delicate state, immune to the fanfare around him and feeling absolutely mortified.                    

Way to go, dumbass.                      

[thewickedmerman]

Zendaya STILL Can’t Act

First of all, I do NOT dislike Zendaya. She is a kind and genuine person that truly has a good heart and is the type of person that more celebrities should be like. I may not be a fan of her due to her not really being that talented, but I have a lot of respect for her as a person (Unless she does something in the future). So before any of you immature Zendaya fans come after me, just remember that you’re just making her look bad because you’re acting like a bunch of immature, annoying babies that can’t accept different opinions.

Anyway, just because she is a good person, that doesn’t mean she can’t be criticized for her work. I’m sorry, but she is NOT a good actress! Before any of you start bringing up her Emmy win, you realize that those don’t mean anything because they have been accused of being rigged and acting more as a popularity contest rather than a contest of TRUE talent, right? Some are even arguing that this year they were trying to avoid being accused of racism with the BLM movement by having most of the winners be black. I don’t agree with that because, apart from Zendaya, all the winners that are black truly did deserve their awards because they are amazingly talented people. However, if the Emmys were truly legit, Lana Parrilla would’ve been nominated and won an award for Best Supporting Actress in Once Upon a Time and Bella Thorne should’ve won an Emmy for her performance in the TV movie, Perfect High. Zendaya is a popular celebrity but popular doesn’t mean she has talent. It’s like how a lot of kids in school that are popular aren’t popular because they are a nice person that people like. Popularity isn’t always deserved. I mean, look at how Viola FREAKING Davis, the most talented actress EVER, didn’t get a nomination this year, despite receiving and winning a lot of Emmy’s over the years. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure colorism played a part there as well, but Zendaya is NO WHERE near the level of an Emmy worthy actress and did not deserve to win against the likes of the other nominations that are FAR more talented, versatile, and experienced.

However, let me explain the flaws of her acting. I’ll be fair and pretend that I acknowledge the bullshit argument that Disney Channel acting is supposed to over-the-top and bad as a “legit” argument, because critiquing that nonsense is a subject for another post on another day. Lets focus on her acting in things outside of Disney Channel. Well, her acting still sucks. While she was over-the-top in Disney Channel, she takes a new extreme by being absolutely emotionless. I know people are gonna say that her reason for acting like that in Euphoria and Spiderman is that it’s part of her character. Okay, while I think she still performs those type of characters poorly, I will be fair and accept that for now. However, what about her performance in something like The Greatest Showman?

What was her excuse in The Greatest Showman? She wasn’t playing a Daria knock-off or a drug addict there. She was playing a character that required a lot of emotion in order to make the audience feel for her struggle. I won’t mention how her being white passing (And YES, she is white passing because she’s going to be staring in a movie called A White Lie about a woman who was white passing and pretended to be white in order to attend college, so she admits she’s white passing) made her miscast for the part. I will just be talking about how bad her acting was. Ignoring the scene where she’s crying by Phillip’s bedside (Which admittedly was really good), her performance is always so wooden and emotionless. She goes around with a blank look on her face most of the time with the occasional smile and confused look on her face. Her line delivery is almost always so flat, she’s always monotone unless she’s singing, she sounds like she’s reading her lines off cue cards, and sometimes she says her lines in a hammy tone.

I’ll describe some examples of her bad acting in the movie, since I can’t show clips due to how Youtube is always taking videos down that are clips from movies. When she asks if they were all invited to see the Queen, she says it with absolutely no emotion. She comes off as though she doesn’t care and I don’t mean doesn’t care as in acting like she doesn’t care so that she doesn’t come off as vulnerable; it’s more like she just doesn’t care like how a kid in a school play just doesn’t care and is putting in no effort at all. And the way she makes a pause in the middle of the sentence makes it come off even worse. “Are we all... invited?” Come on! Put in some effort!

Another example being when Phillip touches her hand during Jenny Lind’s performance. Zendaya just has a blank look on her face and all she does is take a breath. This should be an emotional moment for Anne. The man she... loves? I mean, the character and the romance are so underwritten that it’s hard to tell how she feels about him at this point. Anyway, the man the loves finally does something to display his affection for her in public, so she should be having a surprised look on her face that grows into a smile and trying to hold back tears of joy. Unfortunately, all she’s doing is just acting the way she did before he touched her hand. We don’t see how she feels about finally holding his hand or even him touching her finger with his. At that moment, she should show some slight hope but also skepticism by brushing it off as him give trying to make her happy by doing the bare minimum, which would transition to emotional happiness as he holds her entire hand. But all we get is a slight deep breath and the same blank look she always had. When he took his hand away from her after people are whispering about them, this should be a moment where she looks shocked, as well as hurt that she let her guard down because she let him make her believe that he truly cared about her enough that there was a glimmer of hope for their love. But she just looks at him with a blank and emotionless look on her face. She’s not displaying all the many emotions that the character should be feeling. When she walks away, she doesn’t look hurt but rather looks like someone who just tooted a little. What made her or the director think she was doing a good job there? Where is the emotion? The complexity? The depth? She showed about as much emotion as the characters in that terrible “live-action” remake of The Lion King.

Another scene being where she’s at the theatre, which she ruined with her performance. The way she talks to the ticket man was so wooden and robotic. She should’ve came off as someone who was clearly trying not to be scared but you can tell that she is. Why? Because she is a black woman (Or rather is supposed to look like one) and is out of her element because someone that isn’t white wouldn’t normally be in a prestigious place like the theatre (Unless you were white passing like her, but the movie is still trying to ignore that she’s only slightly darker than Zac Efron). She should be frightening about how people will treat her but trying to be brave because of how she wants to experience this world that is like a fantasy in her mind. She’s just emotionless as always. When she sees Phillip, she should be shocked and upset because he tricked her but also is willing to be seen in public with her among all of the people from his high class world. But she just gives a blank look. When she’s looking up at the staircase leading to the theatre, she should be having a lot of emotions welling up because of how she always wanted to go to the theatre, most likely since she was a child. Now it was finally happening and what does she do? Just gives a blank expression again after biting her lips. That doesn’t come off as a young woman that is finally going to have an experience she’s always dreamed of happening. It comes off as being indifferent, especially with her monotone line delivery of “I’ve always wanted to go to the theatre.” SHOW SOME EMOTION! Imagine how bad a Cinderella movie would be if that was Cinderella’s reaction to being at the palace.

When she and Phillip run into his parents, she should be doing more than just having a blank expression on her face. She should be showing some fear because of how it felt like nothing could go wrong, but then it does. She’s being referred to as “the help” and being seen with her is considered a bigger disgrace than being associated with Barnum, who was considered to be trash to begin with. She is also giving up on her dream of going to the theatre by just leaving and doesn’t show any emotion. All of this should be having her full of emotions that she’s embarrassed that she let break through. She should be having a few tears escape, a quivering lip, and her voice whimpering and cracking as she’s running away after having a childhood dream crushed. What does she do instead? Just casually leave with a blank look on her face. She doesn’t even come off as someone trying to leave before someone sees her cry. It comes off more as just being indifferent and the speed she’s running isn’t out of desperation to leave because she was hurt but more like a “Oh! I didn’t realize how late it was. I gotta go before I’m late for being early to curfew.” It ruins the moment. She can’t even run properly in a scene! How bad at acting do you have to be to mess up running?

I won’t go into the problems of her acting in Rewrite the Stars because I covered that pretty well in my review of the movie, so I’ll just provide a link to it.

My Review of The Greatest Showman

She may be able to get away with this when she’s in Spiderman and Euphoria, but that doesn’t work for every character. It shows that she is really a one trick pony when it comes to acting. She’s not versatile and doesn’t have a wide range. Her acting is just going around with a blank look on her face with a monotone delivery, even when it doesn’t work for the scene. Until she can prove she can act outside of the types of characters she plays in Spiderman and Euphoria (And even then I think she plays the deadpan character type very poorly), she still isn’t a good actress. Maybe she’ll be able to prove herself in her movie A White Lie. I want her to improve and I wanted to love her in Euphoria but she just felt more like she was going through the motions. Playing a deadpan character isn’t as easy as people think. You need to be able to have just the right amount of being emotionless and still deliver the dry wit with a bit of smugness and sass instead of just being bored. A deadpan character is a lot more complex a character to pull off than people think. You need more than just being emotionless, monotone, and breathing to pull it off. The body language matters, which Zendaya doesn’t try to add to her characters and is just her going through the motions instead of becoming the character. In Spiderman she comes off as a stoner rather than a Daria type character, which you’d think would work in Euphoria but she really doesn’t portray that. And her eyes don’t portray Michelle as snarky, smart, introverted, or skeptical but rather just either having her eyes look relaxed or squinting like the sun is in her eyes. She feels more stiff and wooden than is necessary for the character. The emotional scenes feel half-assed. The door scene made me cringe because her voice was more whiny than desperate and and her face when she was begging felt more like she was constipated or something. I actually kind of laughed at how insanely flat her performance was in that scene, despite people praising it.

Something that is critical with a deadpan character is that, while they do have to be limited in their facial expressions, they still need to have their eyes be able to portray something. For example, Daria Morgendorffer’s eyes always showed how annoyed she was with the stupidity of her surroundings and wanted nothing to do with it (I can relate) and Raven from Teen Titans had her eyes show how she has a snarky nature and can’t express her emotions like others because her powers are dangerously driven by emotions, as well as her having a bit of mystery behind her that we learn more about in season 4. And before you say that they are animated characters so it’s easier to have them appear like that, there are actresses that manage to do that as well. Lana Parrilla managed to portray that as The Evil Queen/season 1 Mayor Mills where her facial emotions were more reserved but she managed to show how menacing she was with the look of her eyes. She made you happy that looks couldn’t kill. There was also Danai Gurira’s performance as Michonne from The Walking Dead (A show that I am NOT a fan of AT ALL) where the character had a deadpan attitude but also managed to show how serious she is with her eyes and body language instead of just having a vacant look in her eyes and uninspired body language like Zendaya did in Euphoria.

Before you say she is playing a drug addict and that’s how they act, first of all, I’ve sadly had some drug addict family members and they still didn’t have a vacant look in their eyes like she did. Her eyes were just wide open and relaxed rather than in a daze from the drugs. Secondly, and I know I shouldn’t be comparing them, but Bella Thorne has played a drug addict in Perfect High and on the show Tales in the episode “XO Tour Lif3” where she managed to come off as a genuine addict that is in a daze but still comes off as human. You can see her struggles and emotional turmoil in her facial expressions, voice, and body language that make it more believable that her character felt that she needed to turn to drugs for comfort and escape from her issues. When her character is high or drunk, she is so convincing to the point that it is flawless. Zendaya’s performance in Euphoria is just so hallow and lifeless. It also really makes me sad that Zendaya got an Emmy win at her age when Bella, who has been busting her ass in the acting business MUCH longer than Zendaya (Who didn’t start acting seriously until Shake it Up) and has dreamed of winning Oscars and Emmys, despite people saying that she would never make it as an actress because of her dyslexia and has to work extra hard just to be able to read a damn script doesn’t have even one Emmy nomination (Let alone a win). Bella is the one who has been acting since she was six-years-old! She has even shown she can play the deadpan character better in her movies Amityville: The Awakening (Mediocre movie, though) and I Still See You than Zendaya ever did in Euphoria and the Spiderman movies.

Anyway, I gave Euphoria a chance and viewed it with an open-mind that REALLY wanted to like Zendaya’s performance but she fell flat and showed that acting isn’t her strong suit. If she gets better in the future, that’s great and I wish her all the luck in the world. But I’m tired of her getting praise that isn’t deserved or earned, especially when there are actresses that are far more deserving and have worked a lot longer and harder than her but still don’t get their recognition. She has a good singing voice, is decent at modeling, and her strong suit is dancing but she’s not phenomenal at any of these things. She doesn’t deserve to be called a Queen when she doesn’t have the talent that is required to earn that title. Maybe she’d be at her best if she was exclusively a talkshow host. People mainly love her for her personality and having her own talkshow would be able to make that aspect of her truly shine.

I have also learned, thanks to following the AWESOME @angelicdiamondbabys​ that Zendaya’s new role in a movie called Dune was something that is based in Middle Eastern culture. So not only is Zendaya contributing to gingerism by taking redhead roles (Gingerism is a thing and it even a problem with white people that are non-redheads, so look up gingerism and educate yourselves) and taking the role of a full-blooded black woman in The Greatest Showman, but NOW she is taking roles from Middle Eastern actresses? But of course people are sitting on this because it’s Zendaya and people fancast her as every brown character even if it’s not racially correct! I don’t know much about Dune or the situation, so I can’t really say anything about that. But still, this might show that Zendaya isn’t as nice and mature as she appears to be. However, I still can’t say much on this.

And before you say that I’m a white guy, so I can’t have an opinion on Zendaya or call me a racist, my new friend angelicadiamondbabys is a full-blooded black woman who also shares my views on Zendaya. So take a look at her page and be warned, she is brutally honest, which makes her awesome, so if you don’t have a thick skin, be warned lol.

This is just my opinion. Be respectful.

[moon-in-daylight]

Read Between The Lines / Count Orlo x reader

Summary: You have been friends with Orlo for years now, even though you have always fantasized about being something more. When Orlo reads some compromising papers, you’re not sure you can keep your infatuation with him a secret anymore.

Words: 5.4k

A/N: I’ve been working on this fic for weeks and now I’ve finally finished it. I’m not sure I’m content with the result, but considering I’ve overcome a really huge writing block to finish this, I’m posting it either way. I haven’t proofread any of this, so sorry for the potential mistakes and typos. Hope it still makes some sense. Also sorry for posting so late at night, but now that I finally have a fic to post, I can’t wait to do it until tomorrow 😂 

Surviving in Peter’s court wasn’t an easy task and anyone that had spent more than a few nights between the opulent walls of his palace could confirm that. The competence of the young Emperor could be easily described as inexistent and both the country and the palace were suffering the most absolute misery under his wicked and corrupted hand.

The war with Sweden had lasted too long, killed too many of your own people, but as harsh as it sounded, the front wasn’t the most hostile environment in Russia.

Sooner or later, that war would end. Eventually, things would go back to normal to the few lucky Russian soldiers that survived the unforgivingly cold winter in the battleground. Whatever outcome the dispute would take, the remaining survivors could go home and return to their families, live the rest of their lives in peace despite the atrocities they had been obliged to perform and witness…

The court, on the other hand, was endlessly immersed in a constant, vicious war for power that had started long before you were even born, and most certainly would still go on long after you were gone.

Every single soul living in Peter’s palace cared only for themselves, looked exclusively for their own interests. Winning the Emperor’s favor was vital for survival, and no one seemed to care whose feet they stepped on to get it. You could understand their selfish ways, you weren’t completely innocent either. You often forced yourself to laugh at the terrible jokes Peter made or took advantage of your family’s prosperous situation to get the any whims you could desire, even when in the majority times you actually didn't need most of the things you owned. It was an unfair situation and you were aware of it, but you had to take advantage of the fact that you had been born lucky and privileged.

But you normally tried to stay out of the way of the big political players, of those of the court’s residents that were trying to manipulate Peter into ruling by their beliefs and principles.

It was exhausting to live in a place like that. A place where everyone hid their true intentions and where you couldn’t lower your guard at practically any time of the day.

Much to your disgrace, the situation at court wouldn’t change while Peter was alive and occupying the throne. Even when he was the most incompetent, useless ruler the country had had in centuries – probably ever -, you were doomed to endure his reign with the only hope that you could outlive him and see a better Russia after he passed away.

He was too childish and puerile to run a country, far more worried in the seek for his own pleasure and amusement than meeting the needs of his people.

It was hard to conceive that while thousands of men were dying at the front, the Emperor could be drinking until passing out and making full display of his stupidity and recklessness through humorless jokes. It was evident to everyone’s eyes that he wasn’t qualified to run Russia, but you knew that saying that out loud would more than certainly get you killed.

He came from a long bloodline of rulers and that gave him a full pass on doing anything he wanted, no consequences, all by the divine grace of God. There was absolutely nothing you could do, except watch everyone around you butter up and lick the boots of the man that was destroying your homeland.

Not being able to deal with the hypocrisy of the court, you had soon learnt to ignore the real world and hide yourself up in fantasy ones, the shelves and books of the small library of the palace becoming a shelter for you.

In addition to being meaningfully smaller than the other rooms of the palace, the library was old, outdated and dusty. But it was also the quietest place and most peaceful room you could have access to, the least crowded. Just for that reason, it was the perfect place for you.

Although what you could have initially expected, you weren’t always alone in there, as Count Orlo often visited the library too. He was probably the only soul in the whole court beside you that care the slightest for written words, that enjoyed learning new things just for the pleasure of it.

You were intimidated by him at first, his political career and reputation making him seem cold and ruthless. In your eyes and judging by what you had heard of him, he was nothing but a calculating mind seeking to expand his power and influence, putting up with the Emperor’s constant mocking of him just so he could manipulate him.

That view you had of him immediately changed after the first time you exchanged a few ideas about the philosophy book he had caught you reading, his passionate words allowing you to see the concepts you were reading about from a different and more interesting point of view.

It wasn’t rare for the both of you to coincide in that room and through your encounters you easily familiarized and grew comfortable with each other presence. How could you not? He was always nothing but kind to you.

Whenever he had the chance, he got reunited with you so you could discuss your readings, recommend each other new books or just spend some quality time away from all the court’s madness. He was incredibly friendly and caring, always willing to share with you his knowledge, which you were incredibly thankful for.

Women weren’t supposed to learn the things you were learning. Most of them at court were illiterate, and you would be too had your father not thought it could be useful to teach you how to read when you were a child. You were grateful that he had taken the time to teach you, knowing that most men wanted the women around them to be ignorant and obliging. You were tired of seeing the patronizing way in which your gender was treated. So seeing that Orlo was treating you as an equal and was happy to answer even your most stupid questions was truly relieving.

It didn’t take long for you to grow fond of him, maybe fonder than you would have liked to admit.

Orlo was the only person in court you felt you could rely on, his views and ideas more similar to yours than what you could have ever imagined. Despite what everyone else gossiped about him, you knew he was brave and did the best he could to make a difference in Russia. He couldn’t do much to reason with Peter and talk him into making what was best for everyone, you doubted that anyone could. But at least he tried, unlike all that people who dared to mock him.

You saw in him something you had been looking for your whole life; a ray of hope. A promise that things could change, a reminder that not everything was that bad.

You couldn’t help but to let yourself fall for the feelings you slowly developed for him. It felt too good and tempting to not do so. The way your heart raced whenever you were around him was something thrilling, exciting. Something you had never thought you could ever get to feel while living in that place.

You weren’t willing to act on those feelings and risk losing his friendship, though. It was evident how uncomfortable he felt about that subject whenever Peter and his minions made fun of his lack sexual experience. You could see him clench and cringe under the court’s mockeries, discomfort filling his features every time anyone made a sexual reference in his presence. You assumed he simply wasn’t interested in those matters.

Plus, if he had been interested in you that way, he would have said something, shown some sign of his affection towards you…

It was okay that he didn’t feel the same. Just being able to befriend him was more than you could have asked for, and silently daydream about made up scenarios of you and him usually did the trick when you felt the need of being loved back.

That’s how, during one night in which you couldn’t get Orlo out of your head while reading, you had started writing a ‘book’ of your own.

You had been gathering different fantasies during the last couple of months. Endless reveries about how kissing him for the first time would feel like, what his reaction would be to other men taking an interest of you, or even about how the most quotidian parts of the day, like waking up or having breakfast, would be like with him.

Why should you not write something of your own, for your own consumption? You had always loved reading, and your feelings for Orlo gave you a never ending source of inspiration. So many ideas that you barely could remember them all. By writing them, you could preserve the happiest of your thoughts, go through them after a bad day and have your little stories bring a smile to your face.

It was harmless, so why not doing it? If it brought you joy, it couldn’t be that bad. Plus, Orlo would never have to know about your writings, as he didn’t need to know about your feelings for him either.

You hadn’t been able to write or read anything for the past days, though. Since the arrival of the Empress to the court everything had been even more chaotic than usual, and even when you much have rather stay in your chambers or with Orlo in the library instead, you had been obliged to attend to the wedding and following events.

As soon as you had seen her innocence, the look of hope in her face as she arrived to the palace for the first time, you had pitied her. She was an outsider hoping to find in the Emperor the love of her life, and in Russia a new home. You almost felt inclined to advice her to run away as fast as she could and never look back the second she walked through the palace’s doors. Living in that place was already awful enough without being married to Peter, and you figured that more sooner than later she would be regretting ever having left her home.

It only took a few days for her to realize in what a godforsaken place she had gotten herself into, as you had figured would happen. What you weren’t expecting was for her to start plotting against his husband’s life so she could steal his throne, nor that she would be requesting for your help in the process.

You had of course agreed to help her as soon as she had told you about the coup. You barely knew the woman, but you were already sure she would be making a much better work at running Russia that Peter ever would. Even a monkey could do it better, you suspected.

Because of your implication to her plans, you had found yourself having less time to spend with your own thoughts and writings, but that was compensated by having the chance of spending even more time than before with Orlo, as you had been able to convince him into taking part of the coup too.

It was actually nice to take part in the plotting against Peter, not only because you hated the bastard, but because due to the extra time you spent with Orlo, you could feel the bond between you getting stronger. During coup meetings, you would usually support each other’s ideas, have inside jokes between the two of you… You even defended him against Marial’s rude comments of him.

But as much fun as you were having helping Catherine kill the Emperor, it was also a really exhausting and demanding task, and you soon found that you barely had time to spend by yourself anymore. It had been at least a week since the last time you had been able to sit by your desk and write any of the scenarios you pictured with Orlo. And now that you were spending so much time together, you had a lot to write about.

That night you had arrived to your apartments early, right after dinner. As was tradition every few nights in the court, the Emperor was hosting a party, and you had been fortunate enough to be spared of the torture of attending.

You were hopping you could spend a quiet, peaceful night by yourself for once. To get lost in your thoughts as you imagined Orlo by your side in a new, reformed Russia. But your plans immediately took a different turn when, after searching through the whole room, you couldn’t find your writings anywhere.

After inspecting every drawer and every corner of your room for the second time, you started to get seriously worried.

What if someone had sneaked into your chambers and taken your writings? It was unlikely, as you hadn’t tell anyone about their existence. Why would anyone want to steal those, anyway? What value could they hold to anyone other than you? Of all the items in your quarters, those papers were probably the least valuable thing. If anyone had intended to steal anything from that room, you were sure that would be the last thing they would have taken, and yet, it was the only missing item…

But looking around you, you realized it wasn’t the only thing out of place. In the top of your desk you found a book that wasn’t supposed to be there, the book you had supposedly lent Orlo last week.

Quickly putting all the pieces together, you realized the fatal mistake you had made as your heart practically started to bump in your chest.

You had given him your own writings, instead of the Voltaire pamphlet you had been meaning to share with him.

Mumbling and cursing yourself, you grabbed the book between your hands and rushed out of your chambers and towards Orlo’s.

The Count had been even busier than you with the whole coup situation, so you hoped and prayed for him not to have found a single moment to read in all that time. You knew that in usual conditions, he could and would devour entire books over night, but you held to the hope that he hadn’t seen any of the things you had written about him.

Well, you had seen him exhausting himself from work every day for the past week. His mind seemed to be too focused on planning the next move, on thinking of possible allies for the Empress. It was quite possible he hadn’t even remembered that the book was in his possession.

If he had seen the words you had written, he would have already said something, right? So maybe you could still fix your mistake and act as if nothing had ever happened.

Assuming that he was still at the Emperor’s party, you could sneak into his chambers and switch the books. Prevent the awkwardness that the discovering of your fantasies with him would arouse between the two of you.

You didn’t bother to knock on his door before silently making your way into his chambers, holding the book close to your chest as you tried to ease the pressure that you felt inside.

When you saw that the entrance seemed to be empty, you let out a silent sigh of relieve. Yet, your steps were carefully slow as you got deeper into the room, trying not to make a single noise just in case.

It felt somewhat wrong to be there without his permission, but saving your friendship came before any moral conflict that could arouse within you at the moment.

If everything went okay, he would never have to know about any of it.

You held onto that thought as you kept walking towards the door of his bedchamber, where you knew he kept most of his books. Even when what you were doing felt wrong, it was for a greater good. How uncomfortable would the coup meetings be if he were to discover about your infatuation of him? For the well-being of Russia itself, he should never find out.

Besides, you were just trying to mend a wrong. You had given him your writings in a foolish mistake, by taking them back and leaving the actual book in their place you were just making things right. You convinced yourself it was the righteous thing to do, even when deep down it didn’t feel like it.

Succeeding into making your way to the front door of his bedchamber without any major complication, you pushed the doors open and quickly got inside the room. You didn’t mean to stay too long in there, but you closed the doors behind you in case any guard found them open and got alarmed.

The last thing you wanted right now was for anyone to find you there and having to make up an excuse for your furtive presence in the Count’s apartments.

When you looked up and found him sitting on his desk your body immediately froze, and when he looked up from the papers he was reading to look at you, you felt the cold sweat forming in your forehead.

For a second, you kept your eyes on him, watching surprise taking over his features. You tried to think of something, anything. An excuse to why you were sneaking into his chambers late at night when everyone was supposed to be either sleeping, dancing or completely wasted. You considered the idea of pretending to be drunk, make him think that you had entered his apartments by mistake and let him guide you back to yours. Being the gentleman he had always been, you knew that would be exactly what he would do in that situation.

It would certainly be embarrassing, and you feared he would feel uncomfortable having to deal with a drunk version of you. But you knew it would be far more embarrassing and uncomfortable to tell him the real reason why you were there.

If you were lucky enough and your performance succeeded, maybe you would even be able to ‘drunkenly’ roam through the room in search of your writings and take them with you without him noticing. Maybe you could still fix things.

You were about to ask him what he was doing in your apartments in what you hoped would sound as a drunken tone, but you desisted when you noticed the papers he was holding in his hand.

He had already read them. There was no point in making even more of a fool of yourself.

Neither of you dared to say anything for the following moments. Awkwardly, you looked at each other in what felt like the longest seconds of your life. You no longer knew what to do or say to fix that situation and, judging by the terrified look on his face, you doubted there was anything you could possibly try to make things better.

That was it. Your friendship was officially over. He would probably never want to say another word to you again. Maybe not even be in the same room as you again.

“I-“ You stumbled over your own words, feeling the lump forming in your throat and the pressure in your chest growing stronger, until the point of almost suffocate you. “I’m deeply sorry.”

As you quickly but sincerely said those words, you felt your mouth getting dry and your cheeks blushing, self-hatred taking over every inch of your body. You couldn’t bear the weight of his stare on you. Orlo’s eyes had always seemed the sweetest thing in the world to you, always so expressive and caring whenever he looked in your direction. But right now you felt them hovering over you judgmentally, with a hint of disgust on his face.

You had to look away from him immediately, but you still could notice how his face reddened too with what you assumed was second hand embarrassment.

Closing your eyes, you wished you could magically banish from that room. You wished for a hole to appear in the ground and swallow you, or for the walls to crumble and fall upon you until you were buried deep in the rubbles of the palace and nobody could find you. Literally anything could be better than standing there in front of Orlo.

You had no excuses, no way out. You wanted to properly apologize to him, make him see how truly sorry you were and how much you appreciated his friendship. How desperate you were not to lose him.

But you couldn’t find the right words for it.

“I should go.” You muttered nervously, still hopping that that entire situation was just a bitter nightmare. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Turning to leave his apartments, you wished he hadn’t notice the crack in your voice as you spoke. That whole scenario was already too shameful for you to bear, the last thing you needed was for him to see you crying. All you wanted was to get out of there as fast as you could, lock yourself in your chambers and drink until you forgot about what had happened or just passed out, whatever occurred first.

“Wait.” Orlo’s shaking voice stopped you.

As much as you wanted to run away, a single word from him was enough to stop you.

You were mortified as you stood there, still refusing to turn in his direction. You didn’t dare to. He was probably going to lecture you about how wrong and improper was what you had done, how repulsed he was by it. You didn’t want to go through it, but you owed it to him to face the consequences of your actions.

“I-I didn’t know you write.”

The Count’s tone was surprisingly tender and insecure. You turned to him with wondering eyes, trying to discern whether if he was mad at you or not.

“That’s not-“ You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but your mouth was still dry. “I mean, I don’t.”

“But aren’t these writ-?” He started to question, but you cut him off before he could finish.

“Those don’t count.” Orlo frowned at your words, confused. You made an effort to explain yourself. “They’re rubbish.”

You watched him clench his jaw and avoid your gaze before he spoke again.

“I like-“ He stuttered. “I liked them.”

His words made you blush again. Not with embarrassment, but with flustering this time. He didn’t seem mad at you. In fact, he seemed way more nervous than you. His stammering confession of his liking of your work made you realize how hard he was trying to seem composed.

“I thought you’d be upset.” You tried to state, but your doubtful tone made it sound more like a question.

“I am not.” He was quick to reply, but still refused to meet your eye. “I think the way you… I really enjoyed your descriptions. They’re very detailed and intricated. And the vocabulary is delightfully rich.”

You could see the way Orlo moved around as he spoke, grabbing your writings in one hand and gesticulating with the other one to emphasize his words. He was visibly nervous, but he was doing his best to hide it. He was trying to act as if he was making a simple review of any other book you had shared with him and, as thankful as you were that he was attempting to normalize the situation, this wasn’t just another one of your endless talks about literature.

You hadn’t written those stories with the purpose of discussing them. It felt cold to talk about the use of vocabulary in them when your only intention at the time of writing them had only been to find a way to deal with what you felt for him. You weren’t especially proud of the product of your writing, but you had poured your heart and soul in them. How could he act as if he hadn’t read right through you? Was he really that oblivious that he didn’t realize that you were head over heels about him?

It was literally impossible he didn’t know, he had read about it with his very own eyes. Still, he seemed to be trying to act as if nothing had happened. You had accidentally stripped your feelings, showed him your deepest desires. And all you got from him was nothing.

For a second you thought you would have preferred that he had screamed at you, showed you rage, discomfort, or even disgust. Literally any other feeling that wasn’t the indifference he was giving you. Did he really not care at all?

Confronting him about it felt wrong. You weren’t entitled to it, and you didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was. Instead, you decided to play along.

“And what do you think of the plot?” You asked, hoping he would take it as a cue to address the issue that worried you.

“T-The plot?” He repeated anxiously as he readjusted his glasses. You nodded, hoping for him to say something, but all you got from him was a mumbling mess.

You felt your heart ache for him as he stumbled through stuttered words and unfinished sentences. The Count seemed even more uncomfortable trying to find a right answer for you than what he usually was when being mocked by the court. And considering how awkward he felt under the constant jibes he was put through daily, that was saying something.

“Orlo, I’m sorry you read that.” You cut him off in an attempt to calm him down. Embarrassment was taking over you once again and you felt the urge to leave his apartments immediately, but you first needed to try to calm his nerves. You hated seeing him so unsettled, and you knew that he was going to be torturing himself about that interaction once you left the room, just as you were going to do too. At least, you had to try to find the right words to clear his mind. It had been you the one that had put him in that place after all. “I shouldn’t have written those things about you. It’s okay if you feel uncomfortable about it, you don’t have to pretend you don’t. I understand if you’re upset, even. It’s not your fault. I have no excuse for this, I now realize I should have never-“

“I’m not-“ Orlo’s voice surprised you, making you hush instantly. “It’s not that I’m upset. I just-“

He closed his eyes and sighed, probably still struggling to find the right words to express what was going through his mind. Knowing the man, you realized he was probably beating himself up inside that restless head of his. Cursing himself for not knowing the best way to react to that situation. The man was a perfectionist, always had been. If he said the wrong thing now he wouldn’t be able to think of any other thing for the rest of the week.

“I really can’t tell if you wrote these stories as a joke.” He finally sentenced.

“A joke?” The words left your lips before you could even process them. “Why would you think that?”

“I know I’m not a ladies man.” He stated, discomfort still plaguing his tone. “I’m well aware of all the rumors and jests about me. It’s just… I know I’m not desirable to women.”

You couldn’t help but frown while hearing his words. Your heart broke a little inside your chest, too. How could he think that you would mock him like that? Had he really grown to believe all the mean and hurtful things the evil tongues at Court said about him?

“Orlo, that’s bullshit.” You stepped forward, the embarrassment you had been drowning in suddenly turning into indignation. “You’re not a coward. You’re the bravest, most caring man I know. Not even half of the other men in this palace would be courageous enough to have joined this coup, to fight to make a difference. They can’t say nothing to you and it’s criminal that they have the audacity to mock you.”

The Count stared at you in disbelief of your words, still reluctant to look at you directly in the eye. It hurt you that he couldn’t seem to believe your words were true.

“You aren’t ugly either.” You continued, placing yourself right in front of his desk. “You have the most beautiful and intense eyes I’ve ever seen. I could stare at them for hours, if you let me. And your hair? It looks so soft, I’d love to run my fingers through it.”

Your heart beat increased as you kept listing the things you loved the most about him. It felt weird to just say to his face all the things that you loved about him and that you had kept in secret for years, but you needed him to understand just how wrong he was.

“You’re so intelligent that I sometimes fear you will laugh at me when I say something stupid, but deep down I know you won’t because you’re too kind to ever do that.”

Looking into his eyes, you took a deep breathe, deciding if you should keep on or just cut it off already. Truth was you could have continued like that for hours.

“Orlo, you’re the best person I know, and anyone incapable of seeing the many virtues you have must be completely blind. Including yourself.”

Silence took over the room for the following seconds, and you feared you had made his discomfort grow stronger. Still, you didn’t regret saying those things out loud. You had kept them to yourself for too long, and he needed to know his own value.

The Count simply stared at you, eyes shifting and mouth slightly ajar.

“I never knew you thought such nice things about me.” He finally muttered bashfully, as if he was apologizing.

“Well, I’ve been in love with you for years. That’s the reason I wrote those stories.” You casually added with your newfound confidence. Somehow, it still seemed to get him by surprise. “It has been painfully obvious and I think everyone else has realized already, but since you don’t seem to be able to read between the lines, I’m telling you.”

It felt liberating to finally get it out your chest. For years you had feared his rejection, but now that you witness his own insecurities making a display right in front of you, all you cared about was to make him feel he was worthy of love and respect. You didn’t even care if he didn’t requite your feelings.

“I’m such an idiot.” Count Orlo stood and looked at you, not being able to hide the red color his cheeks had taken.

“Indeed you are.” You smiled at him, touched by his innocent obliviousness. “A very cute one, though.”

Orlo stood in front of you, closer than usual. When you noticed him fidgeting in the spot and nervously running his tongue through his lips, you realized what his new intention was. Not leaving him time to regret his decision, you captured his lips with yours in a chaste but sweet kiss.

You couldn’t help but recall the way you had imagined and described that moment in your writings as you pressed your lips against his. You had always imagined your first kiss to be more passionate and intense, but as you pulled away slowly from the kiss, you thought that the sweetness and tenderness of the actual moment was more fitting than what you could have ever pictured.

“You should have told me earlier about this.” Orlo stated, face inches away from yours.

“I’m not done telling you everything.” You smiled contently. “There are still plenty of things I love about you and that I think you should know.”

“I can think of a few about you myself.” He whispered, more relaxed now. You liked this carefree side of him.

“I’d love to hear them, but they can wait until tomorrow.” Handing him the book you still had between your hands, you stated. “I think you have some Voltaire to catch up on first. And I should go back to my apartments. It’s late and there’s something I want to write about.”

Orlo’s smile was so big that it made your heart race. After leaving the book you had given him on his desk, he gave you back your writings.

“I can’t wait to read it.”

[kingreywrites]

Head In The Clouds

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 1547

Rapunzel Appreciation Week Day Four: Alternate Universe

Summary: If Rapunzel had learned one thing in her football career, it was that waking up on the field was never a good thing. Especially not when medics were looking down at you, and when your head seemed about to explode with pain.

Note: This is a football player Rapunzel AU inspired by a discussion on discord!! Also I mean football as in soccer here ahah

Read on ao3

@s-vnshiine

If Rapunzel had learned one thing in her football career, it was that waking up on the field was never a good thing. Especially not when medics were looking down at you, and when your head seemed about to explode with pain. Rapunzel groaned, the ambient noise from the spectators not helping her roaring headache, and tried to move away from one of the medic who seemed about to wave a light in front of her eyes - that didn't sound agreeable at all and she did not want to try it. The movement only served to make her even more nauseous, however.

"Raps," Cassandra called, suddenly above her too - and, considering she was the goalie and that Rapunzel didn't remember being near her when she got knocked out, it must mean she had lost way more time than she thought - at least enough for Cassandra to jog over there. Not good. "Raps, stop moving alright? They're going to take care of you."

"I hate concussions," was the only answer she could mumble, voice more slurred than she expected. "Cass, you win the game, alright?"

"Yeah yeah," her best friend chuckled, "in your honour Princess."

"We need to win," Rapunzel insisted, completely missing Cassandra's amused tone as they raised her up in a stretcher. "We need to show- to show, uh-"

"Equis."

"We need to show Equis who's boss!" Rapunzel exclaimed happily.

Cassandra squeezed her hand briefly, and then Rapunzel was whisked away to the infirmary. People were speaking above her, and probably about her, but her head was hurting and she was not interested in following that. Then, they were asking her questions, and she hoped she gave the good answers but she couldn't be sure; she wasn't really focused. She kept thinking about the match with Equis. When she asked a doctor if she could go back because she needed to score a goal - which she had now realised Cassandra couldn't do if she was already the one protecting Corona's goal - the doctor only laughed, and didn't listen to her.

Well, that was rude.

She was halfway through concocting a plan to escape and go back on the field (which should probably include stealing a disguise because Cassandra would probably want her to get back to the infirmary if she recognised her) when she heard a loud voice from behind the doors. She would know that voice anywhere.

"Eugene!" she exclaimed, trying to rise herself up to see him. Her head protested loudly at this movement and the next thing she knew, she was back to lying down on the infirmary bed, while Eugene's anxious face was floating over her. "Hey you," she smiled.

"Hey Sunshine," Eugene echoed in the same tone of voice, though his smile was not as convincing as hers.

"You're not watching the game anymore?"

"Well, I was enjoying myself when the love of my life went and got herself hurt," he said softly, taking her hand gently in his. "Watching football seemed less fun, after that."

Rapunzel hummed, but she didn't know what to add to that. Eugene was looking at her with that soft look of his - the one that told her he loved her more than anything else in the world, the one that could make her melt no matter the situation, the one that seemed to make him glow under the sunlight… or maybe that was the concussion talking, she wasn't sure. She had a hard time holding onto her thoughts right now. She wanted to tell Eugene that she loved him, but the words didn't seem able to come to her right now, so she hoped he knew anyway. The world was swimming in front of her eyes and her head hurt, and people were talking too loudly again and she was missing the game and- 

Eugene was still next to her, holding her hand tightly, his eyes and his smile tender despite his obvious worry. Through the dizziness that plagued her, Rapunzel tried to focus on that - on how much she loved Eugene, and how much he loved her back.

She hoped he wouldn't be too worried when she passed out, though.

------

One week later, her head back more or less in the right place and still banned from playing any football game for at least two other weeks, Rapunzel could say with absolute certainty that Eugene had been worried out of his mind when she did pass out.

Who could blame her concussed self for wishing for the impossible? Of course he was going to be worried.

When Eugene wasn't at work, he was trying very hard to hide his hovering - and failing to do exactly that. He had good intentions, and it was mostly sweet, like getting water so she didn't have to move, or helping her through the appartement in case she got dizzy. It was also soft hands in her hair to help her relax, gentle kisses on her forehead when he thought she was sleeping, padded footsteps through the room because he knew the noise still gave her headaches. Eugene wanted to do his best because he had always been attentionate, she knew that, but still, it was getting to be a little too much.

Perhaps she couldn't play football for a while, but she could walk to the kitchen by herself without passing out.

She just had to convince Eugene of that now.

"Here," Eugene smiled, entering her room again, "I put the glass away."

"I could have done that," she sighed, but she couldn't even maintain her annoyance when Eugene looked at her sadly.

"Sorry," he said, his hand going behind his neck nervously, "I'm being overbearing, aren't I?"

"A tiny bit?" Her shoulders slumped, and she patted the space next to her with a smile. "Come here."

"Oh but-"

"Eugene?"

She didn't know if it was her pleading expression or her tone, but he didn't hesitate anymore and went to sit at her side. He had been very careful with touching her these last days, scared of hurting her more but she wasn't about to let him get away with this any longer. She dragged him in her arms in one swift movement, ignoring his surprised yelp as she made them both lie down fully on the bed. She had her head above his hair, and could feel how soft it was against her skin - it was nice.

"Uh, Sunshine?" Eugene mumbled, his mouth near her collarbone.

"Are you comfortable?" she asked instead of answering.

"I- yes."

"Good, because I think I deserve a hug."

She felt him chuckle against her, making her shiver a little until his arms sneaked their way around her stomach and one his legs went over hers, Eugene pressing himself even further against her. She didn't think she could move even if she wanted, and that was exactly what she had wanted. Rapunzel was warm, and she felt safe, and her head wasn't even hurting right now so it was truly perfect.

"Don't scare me like that again," Eugene whispered after a while, breaking the soothing silence between them. "I know it wasn't your fault but- seeing you go down and not get up again, it was- it was…"

He trailed off, but Rapunzel heard him loud and clear anyway. She knew he had been terrified, and that he nearly didn't have access to the infirmary - if she hadn't called for him when she did, he would have been left alone with his worry, not knowing if she was okay or not simply because they weren't married. She knew he didn't mind waiting for her to be ready, and this kind of pressure was unfair and not a good reason to get married but… But, maybe it was the time to revisit her stance?

Maybe it was her turn to do a proposal, she thought with a smile, the idea not overwhelming anymore.

She played with his hair silently, mulling over it all, feeling his breathing slow down as he finally relaxed. Smiling, she kissed the top of his head.

"To say that you missed Corona beating Equis 4 to 1 for me," she said lightly, drawing a groan out of him. He had always been an avid fan, even before he met her, and he had been excited to attend this game for weeks.

"The things I do for love."

"You're so brave," she ironized gently, "thank you Eugene."

"Yeah yeah," he laughed, "at least I got to see you score once before your head met the ball too intimately. You've always been my favourite player."

"I know," she smiled, and she wasn't even joking anymore. She knew he admired her and not only because she was his girlfriend, but because he found her genuinely talented. It was flattering to hear him always describe her with awe and she… She loved him for loving her so much, always and unconditionally. She was truly lucky to have him, and she knew that if someone asked him, he would say that he was the lucky one.

Shifting so she could cuddle him even tighter, Rapunzel let herself be lulled to sleep by the sound of his breathing, content to have this moment of peace, and dreaming of different ways she could propose to him.

[slytherin-team]

On Petunia Evans Dursley, or how I imagine & re-imagine her character

So, I re-read HP and Snape’s memories of Lily and Petunia really stood out to me. 

Since re-reading the whole series, I’ve become a bit obsessed with Snape and Petunia.

I want to talk about Petunia’s character.

Now, I like starving-her- nephew- and -locking- him -in- a- cupboard Aunt Petunia as much as the next person (which is to say, not at all)

However, Petunia’s character has to be one of the things that bothers me most about HP or one of the things that I see as the biggest missed opportunity on JKR’s part.

Now, I don’t entirely blame JKR for making Petunia a one-dimensional villain. HP started out as a children’s book and the Dursleys are very much like Matilda’s family. They’re just there to be entirely awful and also to contrast muggle “ordinariness” with wizard “specialness.” Additionally, everyone is familiar with the fairytale evil stepmother and Petunia fills that cliched trope as well.

But as the series becomes darker and less for children and as we learn more about the complicated history between muggles and wizards, the presence of only one-dimensional (Dursleys, at least the parents) or barely present (the Grangers) muggles becomes rather irksome, considering how the war is all about prejudice towards muggles and muggle-borns.

These things didn’t bother me or even occur to me so much as a kid reading the series and that’s why I can’t entirely blame JKR on this one thing. She knew her target audience (kids) would identify with the witches and wizards, see the muggles as boring and dull like the adults around them, and not care so much about the broader picture. 

I don’t know if my new way of looking at the series comes from simply re-reading it, or more specifically, from being an adult re-reading it, but I find myself super interested in examining what it means to be a muggle who is aware of the magical world and this what draws me to Aunt Petunia.

If I could make any change to the series, I would make Petunia a more gray, nuanced and fleshed out character, much like Snape (who I actually think she is very similar to and I’ll get into that). She would still give preferential treatment to her own son, but she would not outright abuse Harry by starving him or locking him up. She would ensure he’s well-fed and healthy but she would not be affectionate with him, but rather cold and distant, so similar to how she already acts but minus the serious abuse. 

 I would pepper in moments where Petunia stares at Harry with empty eyes or glances at him while he’s not looking. I would have Harry notice these small moments from time to time and wonder why his Aunt takes care of him yet is so cold towards him. He would unravel this mystery of her behavior, just as he unraveled Snape’s and Petunia would get a redemption arc, like Snape. I haven’t thought of all the details but I like the idea of her getting more involved later in the series and being a useful muggle character. Eventually, she would open up about Lily as well and reveal her regrets. She would also have a heart to heart with Harry and wish him luck before going into hiding.

Vernon would still be a jerk but not outright abusive because Petunia wouldn’t allow for that. Dudley would still get away with his bullying, particularly when Petunia is out of sight, but maintain the growth he did show in the series, perhaps taking it a bit further.

As much as I prefer my version of Petunia, the actual Petunia we get, while not a good or redeemable person by any means, is still really great as a character and as a villain, she has a good origin story.

Hate adult Petunia all you want, but child Petunia, in my opinion, is nothing but sympathetic and probably one of the most relatable characters in the series, and I will go through this.

We all wish the HP world was real, but of course, if it was, we’d all want to be witches and wizards. We all want to go to Hogwarts. 

Severus tells Lily, “It’s real for us, not for her.”

He’s right and he’s wrong. It’s real for Petunia, she just can’t be a part of it.

Now, personally, I think being a squib would feel a lot more unfair than being a muggle with muggle parents whose sibling just happens to be a witch and even if Petunia’s parents did favor Lily for being a witch, they can’t be prejudice towards Petunia for her lack of magic when they lack magic themselves. 

But squibs might actually be looked down upon by their magical parents and they seem to have no choice but to enter the muggle world even though they grew up in the magical world, and if they do stay in the magical world, they’re seen as lesser and I can’t imagine there’s much for them to do. Maybe they could work in Muggle relations but that’s not given much prestige (even though it should be an important thing) Petunia feels barred from the magical world but at least she doesn’t have to leave her own world. 

Still, Petunia is just a kid and she doesn’t know about all the intricacies of the magical world or about squibs. She just sees that her sister has abilities that she doesn’t and access to a really exciting world that she doesn’t. So, her jealousy and feelings of inferiority are totally understandable. 

Of course, in her jealousy of Lily, lack of knowledge about the intricacies of the magical world, and overall myopic view because of her youth, I think there’s something that Petunia doesn’t realize.

Lily is also in a difficult position, perhaps in some ways more difficult than Petunia. At least Petunia has a clear line. She’s a muggle and can fit into the muggle world.

Lily is a witch, so despite being born into the muggle world, she’s different, but that doesn’t mean she can fully integrate into the magical world. In some ways, the prejudice against muggle-borns and the specific slur for them makes them seem more hated and distrusted by certain segments of the wizarding world than even muggles themselves. 

And Lily graduated Hogwarts at the time of Voldemort’s rise and we’re told that the first wizarding war was much more intense than the second. Marlene Mckinnon and her entire family were killed. Voldemort had a bunch of creatures on his side. Petunia could be blissfully ignorant of all this and cocoon herself in her safe “ordinary” world at least. Safety didn’t seem like a choice for Lily, although she certainly had agency and chose to fight for the Order. But it seems that muggleborns would be hunted regardless.

Perhaps if Petunia had realized this, she would have had more sympathy for her sister and also realize that she herself  is lucky in some regards. Maybe she could have cultivated her own talents and focused on them instead of putting all of her energy into being jealous and petty.

I also have this other idea I like, of Petunia developing healthy coping mechanisms to deal with her jealousy and then finally embracing the magical world - instead of turning away from it entirely to be as “ordinary” as possible- and then becoming the muggle version of Arthur Weasley- that is, a muggle who is a bit of a “magicphile” 

Getting back on track, Petunia’s ordinariness could be her strength, at least as a character, it makes her relatable. Young Petunia, like young Severus, is the underdog, and that sort of makes you want to cheer for her or at least see her get a slice of the cake at least once in her life.

While I’ve grown to like Lily as a character more because of my re-analysis of her situation - which makes her an underdog too- I used to really hate her, for the same reason Petunia hated her. Like really? This girl has powerful magic, is beautiful, gregarious, kind, brave, strong, loved and desired by everyone...yadda yadda yadda...gimme a break! 

And so many fans who love Lily don’t realize that they’re probably Petunias, not Lilies.

Even looking at the flowers themselves- petunias are actually really beautiful and come in such a wide variety (the night sky petunia is my favorite) - and yet they’re often overlooked because they’re so common.

James is an awful bully but at least that counteracts his perfectness in every other area (looks, school, sports, etc) What are Lily’s flaws? What does she struggle with other than being muggleborn? It seems that maybe both she and James were too naive and trusting (not to victim-blame her for her own death or anything) but what else? We’re not told and so she just seems perfect, not very interesting for a character.

A lot of the things Petunia says as a child that fans interpret as mean or revealing of her hatred of magic from a young age, are actually things she seems to regurgitate from the adults around her. 

For example, when Lily is flying from a swing, Petunia chides her by saying, “mom, told you not to do that!” Although we know Petunia’s parents favored Lily, I get the sense that their favoritism and even awareness of Lily’s magic didn’t come until after the Hogwarts letter, which is when a representative would have come to the family to explain things. Before then...I’m not sure but maybe her parents didn’t realize what was going on and just didn’t want her jumping out of swings? Anyway, I think Petunia is just trying to be the responsible older sister and is repeating her mother.

I’m pretty sure when Lily makes the flower grow, Petunia gets a bit freaked out and maybe also says something about how she shouldn’t be doing that but she’s also described as asking Lily how she does it, with “longing” in her voice. So she’s juggling trying to be the responsible older sister with being totally weirded out because how the heck is her sister making flowers grow in her hand, to being curious, and this is when her burgeoning envy (totally understandable) starts to emerge as well.

Then little Snape enters the picture to unintentionally erode the sisters’ relationship even further. It’s also here that Petunia makes another comment that fans point to as proof of her snobbery and cruelty from a young age, but actually, it’s just proof that she took what adults told her to heart, and since she was older than Lily, she probably heard more gossip and knew more about their town in general.

After Snape pops out to tell Lily she’s a witch and that he’s a wizard, Petunia is the first of the sisters to speak.

Here’s the direct quote from Petunia: “Wizard! I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” 

This little statement is endlessly fascinating to me, it raises so many questions.

Why does Petunia know who Snape is? Why does she recognize him? How does she know his name and what he looks like? We know adult Petunia is nosy and loves watching all the neighbors. Was child Petunia snooping around, if so then how close did Snape live to the sisters? How close is the sisters’ house to Spinner’s End and the river? 

If she was snooping around, then it’s kind of ironic that she was spying on Snape while he was spying on her and Lily ( he says he’s been watching Lily but Lily is always with Petunia outside so even if it’s not intentional, he’s watching Petunia too) Even if she was snooping around, why would Petunia wander to Spinner’s End? Does she share Harry’s deathly curiosity and adventurous streak? She says “they” so does she know what Snape’s parents look like? How much does she know about the family and his home life?

My first thought actually wasn’t that she was snooping around but rather, that she was regurgitating the nasty things that adults had said. But this raises another question, which adults? We’re told later that Snape and Lily sneak into Petunia’s room to read her letter to Dumbledore, which means that Snape was in the Evan’s family’s home, and we also know that the Evans parents are impressed by witches and wizards, so it would seem that they approved of Snape. 

So then, who would have told Petunia about the Snape family? Did she just hear rumors and gossip about them from older townsfolk? I always imagine Lily as either 9 or 10 and Petunia as either 11 or 12 in this scene, only a two year difference between them but at that age, it’s enough for Petunia to be more involved in what adults are saying and for Lily to be oblivious.

From here, Petunia asks Severus why he’s been spying, and again, she seems like the protective sister. I really like her in this scene. I don’t interpret her as snobby or classist. She’s too young. I see her as a kid influenced by the adults around her and as sort of a gryffindor/slytherin hybrid, bravely stepping between her sister and the strange boy calling her a witch, while also being judgemental of outsiders.I think she possesses a lot of the qualities of both Lily and Severus.

This scene is also when Sev spitefully calls Petunia a muggle, a word she had never heard before but immediately recognizes as inferior. 

“Haven’t been spying. Wouldn’t spy on you any. You’re a muggle.”

It’s shown later that all three of these kids love to spy and snoop around (not unlike the golden trio - except they’re not spying with each other but on each other) but Sev and Petunia definitely share a heightened nosiness, a certain degree of haughtiness, a superiority complex coupled with an inferiority complex, and a strong sense of self-preservation and pride that is very slytherin. Opposites may attract but I think it’s the couples with common ground that last, and enemies-friends-lovers will never go out of style, so the potential set-up for Snetunia is just too good to pass over and plays a big role in why I love shipping them together.

Okay, and after this, Petunia then spies on Lily and Sev. The “she’s jealous. You're special. She’s ordinary” line is in the movie not the book but I love it because it encapsulates Petunia’s insecurities perfectly and also shows how Sev puts Lily on a pedestal, and the magical world as a whole on a pedestal. It’s sad that he gets abused at Hogwarts after being abused at home but it also just goes to show that wizards, witches and muggles are all just people and not necessarily inferior or superior to one another.

Petunia overhears Sev telling Lily about the dementors and that’s when she loses her footing and gets caught spying. Sev then shouts, “Who’s spying now! What d’you want?” I find it interesting how Sev and Petunia mirror each other so much.

This is when Petunia insults Sev by saying “What are you wearing anyway? Your mother’s blouse?” She obviously has nothing to say in regards to the spying accusation because she was so obviously spying, so she tried to deflect it with an insult. She’s just as defensive as Sev. After she says, the infamous tree branch incident happens, in which Sev gets revenge by making a tree branch fall over her head. This is what prompted Petunia, years later, to refer to Sev as “that awful boy” when she reveals to Harry that she knows what the dementors are because she “overheard that awful boy talking about them.”

Okay, onto the Hogwarts letter, which raises many questions as well.

“You shouldn’t have read – ”  Petunia had whispered, “that was my private – how could you – ?”.

Lily gave herself away by half-glancing toward where Severus stood nearby. 

Petunia gasped. “That boy found it! You and that boy have been sneaking in my room!” 

“No – not sneaking – ” Now Lily was on the defensive. “Severus saw the envelope, and he couldn’t believe a Muggle could have contacted Hogwarts, that’s all! He says there must be wizards working undercover in the postal service who take care of – ”

Okay, so this is soooo interesting. 

Adult Petunia is presented as a woman with a long neck who always has her nose in other people’s business and she’s not much different as a child. But despite this trait being used to amplify her villain role, it seems the “good guys” and the “grey guys” love meddling in this way as well. 

I really feel for Petunia in this scene. I think that Hogwarts letter and Dumbledore’s reply rejecting her (even if it was kind) was one of the biggest moments of failure, disappointment and embarrassment in her life and remember, she’s probably about 2 years older than Lily so she would be 13 here and that’s just not a nice age either and I think that makes losing her sister and being rejected hurt even more. Privacy is such a big deal when you’re 13 too, that’s like peak private diary age, so to have your little sister and her gross friend sneaking into your room at that time, what an invasion that must feel like.

But….what the heck was going through Sev’s mind?!?

I doubt Lily suggested that she and Sev sneak into Petunia’s room. Why would Sev want to go into Petunia’s room? She’s just a muggle after all. He sees the letter, but how? After going into her room?

He couldn’t believe a muggle contacted Hogwarts? Was he secretly impressed by her? He thinks there must be wizards undercover in the muggle postal service...well we’re never told how Petunia sends the letter but it’s often said that there’s more to her than meets the eye. I like to think she was cunning, determined, smart and slytherin enough to find out how to send the letter on her own and that’s probably what made Dumbldore even reply. I think she’s someone who always had a lot of potential but was crippled by feelings of inferiority and self-doubt, much like Severus.

Petunia and Severus both obsess over Lily to the point that it destroys them. Petunia, in her jealousy, deep down worries that Lily is better than her and compensates for this by calling her a freak. Sev never takes Lily off the pedestal even as they begin to grow apart and just as Petunia sinks deeper into her “ultra ordinary” prejudiced persona, Sev sinks deeper into his half-blood prince persona. He hates muggles because of his father, while Petunia hates magic (or pretends to) because of her sister. Sev and Petunia are two sides of the same coin then. They both also never go on to reconcile with Lily and they go on to resent her son while also protecting him.

I said it at the beginning of all this rambling, but I’ll say it again - I wish Petunia had been as layered and grey as Sev, instead of just the bland evil stepmother figure.

So, just to be clear, the adult Petunia we get in the actual books is deplorable but I still love her character because I love how many more satisfying ways there are to re-imagine her and what she could have been. Snape’s memories - the only time we see Petunia’s past - are so rich and revealing and just have me endlessly fascinated about Petunia’s potential.

This was super long but I’ve been dying to word vomit about this character - and I’ll probably do some more word vomit meta about Snape & Petunia later on ~

Oh and regarding what it means to be a muggle in the magical world or adjacent to the magical world - don’t even get me started on the statute of secrecy! Maybe one of the reasons Petunia did turn out so awful was because she had to bear the burden of knowing about magic but not being part of it all by herself, like she couldn’t just tell her friends her sister is a witch and vent. So, maybe she had to bottle everything up.

She also mentions in the book, her sister bringing home frogs and turning them into tea cups - to an outsider maybe that looks like animal abuse or raises ethical questions.

Obliviating muggles certainly seems unethical to me and the ministry does it with great abandon.

I wish this was explored more in the series.

Petunia has a right to be skeptical it would seem, and naturally fearful as well.

[booksbeyondimagining]

Before the Devil Breaks You (The Diviners #3), by Libba Bray

Publish Date:  October 3, 2017 Published by: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers Length: 546 Genre: YA Paranormal/Historical Fiction My Rating: ★☆☆☆☆ (1 out of 5 stars)

Synopsis:

New York City. 1927. Lights are bright. Jazz is king. Parties are wild. And the dead are coming...

After battling a supernatural sleeping sickness that claimed two of their own, the Diviners have had enough lies. They're more determined than ever to uncover the mystery behind their extraordinary powers, even as they face off against an all-new terror. Out on Ward's Island, far from the city's bustle, sits a mental hospital haunted by the lost souls of people long forgotten--ghosts who have unusual and dangerous ties to the man in the stovepipe hat, also known as the King of Crows. With terrible accounts of murder and possession flooding in from all over and New York City on the verge of panic, the Diviners must band together and brave the sinister ghosts invading the asylum, a fight that will bring them face-to-face with the King of Crows. But as the explosive secrets of the past come to light, loyalties and friendships will be tested, love will hang in the balance, and the Diviners will question all that they've ever known. All the while, malevolent forces gather from every corner in a battle for the very soul of a nation--a fight that could claim the Diviners themselves.

My Review:

I don't even know where to begin this review. I feel like I don't understand what happened with this book? I loved the first two. They were breathtaking and wonderful and full of gorgeous characters, a setting that drew me back in time, and a plotline that gave me the best kind of chills. This one? This one just failed. Utterly failed. For a long time I considered Libba Bray to be my favorite author, but this book disappointed me so much that I don't know if I can anymore. What started as a spine-chilling paranormal historical story full of wonderfully diverse characters dealing with a multitude of problems, both emotional and physical, became what can only be described as a hot mess in this installment of the series. And not even the good, Evie O’Neill type of hot mess. Just, a mess.

What happened to the characters I fell in love with? It felt like they completely disappeared in this book. They were all trying to take the lead at the same time and instead of standing out, became lost in one another until it seemed like they barely existed as people at all, but rather caricatures of themselves. It honestly felt like Bray was just rehashing singular traits of these characters that had already been established in the first two novels, and rather than expanding on them and giving them growth, they all just felt very stagnant throughout the story. Or they would have a small moment, only for things to move quickly on before any true growth or resolution was shown despite the need for one. What irked me the most was how the perspectives would shift so quickly and often, literally within the same paragraph at times. It was like getting whiplash trying to keep straight whose feelings I was reading about. This translated horribly into the larger story arcs as well. Very often a plot point would pick up - Mabel and the Secret Six, Theta and Roy, Jericho at Hopeful Harbor - and the book would spend a little bit of time dealing with that, only for it to suddenly switch gear, drop it for multiple chapters (re: hundreds of pages), then to finally bring it back up again much, much later. This led to these story arcs (and consequently the characters) losing their momentum and my interest. I don’t understand why they weren’t intertwined more throughout the book as in the previous books, which balanced both the personal lives of these characters and the over-arcing plotline so well in comparison to this one. And the rest of the plot? A mish-mosh that felt like it was all over the place and completely tedious all at once. I wanted to like this book but I just couldn’t. I can’t tell you how many times I read a line or two and thought “Am I reading a rough draft?” Honestly, sometimes it didn’t even feel like more than a rough outline. Character emotions would pop on and off at random moments. They would do things that seemed to skip important movements in between. Descriptions were just sorely lacking. The first time I started this book (and yes, it took me two tries to get through it), I thought that I was unable to deal with it because it was 1. The early stages of a pandemic and 2. Filled with a lot of recaps of the books I had just reread. I thought it was just me. But it wasn’t. It took me almost four months to finish it the second time around, and only because I forced myself to do so because I wanted to know how this series ended and what became of my beloved characters. All I ended up wanting to do was cry. And not because of the actual story. Just how it was written. I never thought I would ever give Libba Bray a one star review, but sadly, this book just cannot earn anything above that from me. NOTE: The following is a more in-depth look at several plot points that I just want to rant about, and will therefore place under a spoiler alert. [SPOILERS BELOW]

We will start with Mabel, since she is the first character who felt like she had the beginnings of a story arc going on in this book. Mabel Rose, what happened? Again, here I thought she was going to be one of the main focuses of the book (such as with Henry and Ling in Lair of Dreams), but sadly her story just bookended the rest of the plots. But what annoyed me the most, was how botched her character became towards the end. She kept going on and on about “believing in people being good at heart” as if suddenly she had been blind to everything else? And don’t get me started on her believing herself to be in love with Arthur - she was in love with the idea of him loving her, because otherwise when they had sex, she would have been thinking of him, and not how she had beat Evie to something for the first time. (Speaking of, what was with EVERYONE having sex seemingly all at the same time? Was this some weird Sense8 thing?) In conjunction with that, we had Sam and Evie getting it on at the end as well. Now, this is one to unpack. Because let’s see - first, they were on the outs and fighting. Then, Evie was making the moves on Jericho again (and him on her). And things seemed to be actually heating up there (not that I cared). BUT, Jericho got all beefed up both physically and paranormally and suddenly became a raging neanderthal who ALMOST RAPED EVIE and they had one small conversation after he came back to his senses that didn’t really resolve anything, she left feeling conflicted, and then slept with Sam because he was “real” with her. *blinks hard* So are we supposed to ignore the fact that Evie wanted Sam to give everything to her while she still had unresolved and conflicted feelings for Jericho? Or did she make up her mind about him and we just missed that? Look, I love Sam and I thought it should have been him and Evie from the get-go (but not without some long-term dancing around each other), but not like this. It just felt...wrong. (I still hate Jericho. He’s dull. And he’s a philosophy nerd. It seems to explain a lot.)

AND ANOTHER THING! What the hell was the retconning about Sam and the circus?? It was mentioned like three times in this book? But never before that? All of a sudden he's a trapeze artist? What is even the point?  Finally, the other story arc that annoyed me was the Roy one. Mostly it was how it ended - Theta goes full Phoenix on his ass (and I was so ready for her to give him his comeuppance), only to be stopped at the last minute by Memphis who gives her a mini speech about “stopping you for you” so that she doesn’t feel guilt in the future (not that she should after what Roy did). Seems like a good time for some quality character development right? Well, after Roy runs away after screaming “I’ll get you for this” like a Scooby-Doo villain, Theta just smiles and kisses Memphis as if the credits are already rolling. No breakdown, no talking things through, no reassurances - nothing. Just, move on - next storyline please. [END SPOILERS]

[houseofhurricane]

ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (11/32) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

Summary: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court, trying to prevent the Dread Trove from falling into the wrong hands and wrestling with the gifts the Cauldron imparted when she was Made. Lucien, asked to join her, must contend with secrets about his mating bond. Meanwhile, Tamlin struggles to lead the Spring Court in the aftermath of the war with Hybern. And Vassa, the human queen in their midst, wrestles with the enchantment that turns her into a firebird by day, robbing her of the power of speech and human thought. Looming over all of them is uniquet peace in Prythian and the threat of Koschei, the death-god with unimaginable power. With powers both magical and monstrous, the quartet at the Spring Court will have to wrestle with their own natures and the evil that surrounds them. Will the struggle save their world, or doom it?

A/N: Lucien is brought to the Night Court rather forcibly, and quite a few secrets come to the surface. You can find all previous chapters here, or read Bloom & Bone on AO3. If you'd like to get an early peek at chapter 11 and all future chapters, follow me on Instagram at @house.of.hurricane. Thank you for reading! ❤️

Lucien thinks at first that Rhysand used the knife because he interrupted a dinner with Tamlin and didn’t want to give the impression that Lucien was too cozy with the Night Court. If he really intended to cause harm, Rhysand would have sent Azriel. But as soon as Rhys winnows, as soon as he feels the line of pain begin to tear at his neck, he knows that the fury is real. He can hear it in Rhys’ voice, see it in Elain’s widened eyes. He’s not sure if his lie is so ingrained in him, or if they’re genuinely friends, but either way his gaze goes straight to hers, the power and the fear that radiate from her.

When she nods at him, he tries not to show his relief.

“Elain has told you that I lied about the mating bond?” he asks, trying to make his tone calm but not flippant.

“I find I do not care for being lied to, particularly when those lies involve my family,” Rhysand says, and Lucien watches as Elain flinches despite the High Lord’s silky tone, files the gesture away for further contemplation, as soon as he’s escaped this knife. “I also realize you are not usually so monumentally stupid, so I’d like you to explain this situation.”

“Since I was a child, I have had a talent for detecting spells and determining their creation and unraveling,” he says, watches as, two paces behind Rhysand, Feyre perks up at the scent of a secret she thinks only she knows. “This talent only increased when I was given this new eye.”

“Please tell me that this is going somewhere.” Rhys presses the knife a little harder, so that Lucien can feel his blood, still warm, down his shirt and tunic.

“Any deeper and he won’t be able to talk,” Azriel says, and for a moment Lucien is actually afraid. Then, thinking of his childhood, he steels himself. He’s dealt with worse and still survived.

“Sometimes I can see a mating bond. When it’s new, or when it’s forming,” he says. “I have kept a few secrets from that day.”

He feels Feyre step forward, and the pain in his neck lessens. They’ve realized, Rhys and Feyre, that they weren’t quite as clever as they’d thought, that someone knew their secret, have quickly calculated the extent of Lucien’s cover.

“Tell me Elain doesn’t have the King of Hybern for a mate,” she says, half-incredulous.

Elain steps forward, her hand going out to Rhysand as if she means to pluck the knife from his grip.

“It’s Tamlin,” Elain says, and Lucien watches the quiet devastation on her face as she looks behind her, at what he imagines is Feyre’s face. Rhysand can kill him now, and Lucien will die knowing he prevented this moment until it could be borne.

Finally, the knife falls away from his neck, and as Lucien reaches up to staunch the blood, he watches the room erupt into a muted form of chaos, Feyre and Nesta darting to embrace their sister, each of them trying to muffle their own little cries.

He’d thought that Elain had been remarkably calm in the wake of this revelation, but now, watching her sag into her sisters’ arms, he realizes that she was putting a brave face on the situation. He thinks of Vassa, all those lessons which had seemed pointless when Vassa had first proposed them, but which seem to have blossomed in Elain just when the moment of crisis arrived.

“You see why I had to lie,” Lucien says, mostly to Rhys, when everyone is calmer, when the Archeron sisters are tangled together on the nearest sofa, arms entwined and heads resting on each other’s shoulders, sisterhood in a dreamscape. “I swear on my life that I never meant to harm Elain. I never laid a hand on her.”

Elain murmurs something from her couch which he assumes is positive from the grateful look Feyre aims his way, the fact that Nesta does not snarl.

“My apologies,” Rhys tells him, and somehow his tone is sincere.

“I kept your secrets,” Lucien says, giving the words a snarl around the past tense.

“You also kept your own counsel, even while acting on behalf of this Court,” the High Lord points out, looming over him.

“I was not aware your borders extended so far.”

Lucien knows, even saying this, that the words are a miscalculation, that he’s pushed Rhys hard enough to put himself at a disadvantage. Sure enough, Azriel and Cassian have risen and advanced, ready to put Lucien in his place. This is why he dreads being in the thick of court intrigue -- his mind is quick enough for it, but his desires are too outsized to contain his impulses. And Vassa is still in Koschei’s clutches.

Finally, Rhysand speaks, picking at his jacket, as if he’d allow a piece of lint to perch there even for a moment.

“Tell me this, Lucien. Can I still trust you to be my emissary? Or are you saving the truth for Tamlin and your human companions?”

“My loyalty is earned,” he says, knowing that he’s pushing, but Lucien hears Vassa’s screams, sees the fear in her eyes before she disappeared, and though Rhysand tells pretty stories about alliances between human and fae, he still has a tendency to see humans as chess pieces in his strategic calculations. To him, Vassa’s value may be limited. “Help me recover Vassa.”

“Tell me everything that happened in the Spring Court and we will recover your queen.”

The possessive is a barb, but Lucien ignores it, glances over at Elain instead. She meets his eye, and it occurs to him that her expression is remarkably serene, given that she was crying only moments ago. But as soon as Feyre reaches for her, Elain ducks her head against her sister’s shoulder, gives no signal.

Still, he turns away from Rhysand, towards Elain. Amidst all the tension and magic in the room, he can feel the power coiled inside her, bright and piercing, like light off a mirror. Something in these last days has unveiled her power, though still her magic has been kept on a tight leash. Whether it is her own will of the magic’s desire, something ancient and instinctive in Lucien bows.

“Is it all right with you if I tell him everything?” He pitches his voice to the epitome of courtly sincerity, revealing nothing but an earnest politeness. Even so, he can feel the eyes of the room on him, calculating his motives.

He’s always known that the Night Court would never be his home, but still the reminders of this fact sting. All the while, Elain stays curled up, held by her sisters. It’s all Lucien can do to keep from gnashing his teeth.

Finally, Elain raises her head and meets his eye. Again, her gaze is too clear-eyed, but she manages a wobble in her voice when she says, “You have my permission.”

So Lucien tells Rhysand about that first night, when Elain’s arms disappeared, about the days he spent with Vassa by the lake, then in the village with Tamlin, the distrustful gazes of the villagers. He mentions Vassa’s friendship with Elain, the nightly lessons. He does not leave out Tamlin’s suspicions, the rift between them as Tamlin decided Lucien’s loyalty was to Rhysand and the Night Court, that he held onto some powerful secret which, in fact, was true, but much differently than Tamlin then imagined. He describes, in as much detail as he can recall, the events of the night before, though it seems to have been much further in the past, perhaps because every moment since is laden with the absence of Vassa, the scrabbling of his own brain as he tries to form a plan to rescue her. Finally, he reaches today’s journey to the village, the halting conversations and the hopefulness he’d felt. When he glances at Elain, he sees that she is rapt, her cheeks flushed, though she leans back against the couch as soon as she catches the direction of his gaze.

“And that brings me to the point where you showed up and ruined both a perfectly good dinner and tunic with your knife to my neck,” he drawls, raising both his empty palms toward Rhysand.

“You say Elain’s arms disappeared?” Feyre asks, before Rhysand has a chance to speak. “How is this connected to her powers?”

“I don’t think that Elain needs that bone to travel between worlds,” he says. “It’s possible that the binding of the object to her imparted these powers, but I suspect they are inherent, a gift from the Cauldron when she was Made.”

Amren’s gaze on Elain is difficult to parse, equal parts rage and longing and rueful, the kind of expression only she can conjure. “You’ll need training, girl.”

Elain only looks a little terrified as she asks, “Are you volunteering to train me?”

“Few beings in our world have lived in any other. Most of them reside in the Prison, if you’d like to choose another instructor,” Rhysand says, as if he hasn’t been fooled by Elain’s tears, either. She has skill enough to fool most courtiers, but a skilled observer with centuries of practice can still outsmart her.

“Is it possible that this power could help me rescue Vassa?” Still she forces her voice to waver. And maybe the tears are real. The Mother only knows what she must’ve felt, finding out that Tamlin was her mate.

“Koschei was not born of this world.” Amren studies her nails, already bored of this line of questioning. “Let’s see if we can find another, with a weapon that will slay him. We’ll start tomorrow.”

“And in the meantime, we will gather another round of intelligence on Koschei. Azriel will send patrols.”

“The Valkyries--” Nesta begins, but Rhys silences her with a languid wave of his hand.

“Let’s not show our full hand at the first sign of trouble,” he says. “We’ll need you on the rescue mission, I suspect.”

There’s a look between Gwyn and Nesta that promises trouble, but Lucien decides to focus on his own battles. Rhysand turns back to him.

“I would like you to remain here a few more days, in order to strategize.”

“The Spring Court--” he begins, thinking of the progress they’ve made in one day, of the estate that’s empty of all but the most essential servants and Melis warded in her chamber, of Tamlin’s longing glances at the woods.

“The Spring Court cannot keep its guests safe from capture,” Rhysand says, careful not to emphasize any particular word. “You are needed here, Lucien.”

As he always does in these situations, Lucien only nods. When he looks up, he sees Elain’s eyes on him.

&

&

&

The knock on his door later that night is not a surprise, only the gown Elain is wearing, one of the simple dresses she favors for long days in the garden, covered with a floral embroidery. He’d thought she’d embrace the role of amateur spy and wear black.

“I was wondering if you’d come,” he says, happier than he ever expected himself to be at the sight of her.

“I was worried you’d left already,” she says, darting glances down the hallway. “Will you let me in? Anyone who sees us will think you were lying when you said I wasn’t your mate.”

He doesn’t tell her that she’s too nervous for this to look like a secret tryst, only opens the door a bit wider, so that she’s forced to brush up against him, leave her scent on his shirt. Whatever Elain thinks, a secret affair is the least dangerous of their reasons for meeting at this hour.

“Rhysand says I cannot return to the Spring Court.” Elain stands at the center of the room, away from the walls, murmuring the words in a low tone that forces him to duck his head toward her.

“Tamlin has ruled his court for centuries without your intervention.”

“Didn’t he have advisors and aristos surrounding him? And you for an emissary?”

He considers Elain, her flushed cheeks and the sound of her questions, the pleading tone. He thinks about how she would look, standing with Tamlin in the great hall of the High Lord’s estate, crowned with jewels and flowers, the Lady of Spring, all smiles for her people and fingers laced sweetly in Tamlin’s. The knot of her power, a beacon inside her, unused, all those worlds collapsed into a star in her chest.

“You want to go to him,” he says, crossing his arms.

“He needs someone,” she says, her eyes fierce but her voice a little sulky. And Lucien knows that tone, because it is similar to the one he used for years, only he’d sounded sheepish, aiding and abetting Tamlin even when he knew better. He thinks of the day he’d spent with Tamlin, only hours ago, when there had been real promise, when he’d felt the pride he used to feel in the High Lord of Spring, when their friendship felt like an honor. It hurts a space inside of him, to stay away. But there is a chance that Tamlin can be the leader Lucien sometimes saw, in his best moments, not the self-pitying male he’s become since Amarantha.

So Lucien takes a deep breath and tries to lead Elain down the path he wishes he’d taken sooner.

“He can’t train you to use your powers.”

“And Amren can? You saw the look she gave me when you described them. Like she’d jump inside my skin.”

“Rhysand will happily supervise your sessions.” He levels a smirk at her. Last night, she had forced him to stay grounded in the Spring Court. He owes her the same courtesy.

“Let him claim my power, then.” Her voice is very small within the room, now, as if it is disappearing inside of her, and Lucien begins to worry that Elain, steered away from the Spring Court, will vanish into some other place where no one can reach her. Luckily, he’s played this game before and won, brought her back to corporeality.

“I thought Vassa was training you to be a queen. That you didn’t want to be an ornament. This is what it means to have influence, to build a legacy. You do not have to be the plaything of a powerful male, no matter how irresistible you might find him.”

He’s rewarded with the rolling of her eyes.

“So you’d have me try and use these powers, even if they’re a distraction from Vassa?”

“Koschei was very interested in you. Like it or not, Elain, you will be his next target, and he will find a way to claim you, particularly if you cannot defend yourself.”

She’s silent for a moment, and then her eyes narrow, and suddenly she looks like Nesta, all frigid calculation.

“You’re not going to stay here, are you?”

“I’ll return by morning.” This much, he can trust her with.

“You cannot go to Koschei without a plan.”

“You cannot go to Tamlin without training.”

“Are you going to the Spring Court?” Her eyes are practically slitted, daring him to admit the truth.

“Can I trust you with a secret?”

“I’ve learned to guard my secrets from Feyre and Rhysand.”

“Rhysand is too honorable to look inside your mind.”

“And Feyre?”

“She has power but lacks the finesse of a daemati with centuries of training. Your sister can be fooled without realizing.”

“She went into your mind.” A statement that longs to be a question. Elain, he’s coming to realize, always wants to believe in a better world, in the kind of people who would make its perfect kings and queens. “I’m sorry, Lucien.”

He waves her apology aside, says only: “She wanted to protect you. She still wants to protect you.”

“I’m afraid she’ll see I’m not worth her protection.”

“Because of Tamlin?”

Elain’s features twist, but too quickly she reverts to a more pleasant expression, and then she says, “You’re trying to change the subject. Tell me your secret.”

“I think I’ve made some progress on Vassa’s enchantment. I’d like to run my findings past Helion.”

“And he’d receive you at this hour.”

“Of course.”

A second too late, Lucien realizes that Elain did not ask a question.

“What did your sister tell you?”

“She thought -- none of us thought you knew.” She’s flushed from the crown of her head to the neckline of her gown.

“You thought I couldn’t recognize my own father within the three centuries I’ve been alive? You and your sisters have an abundance of self-estimation.”

“You’re not the first person to say that,” she says, flushing deeper before she snaps back to the present moment. “But your own feelings on Beron are well known. Why not acknowledge your parentage?”

“My mother’s life is already as close to a hell as the High Lord of Autumn can make it. He knows all the places where a bruise can be hidden by a gown or a piece of jewelry, to say nothing of magic.”

“You could not rescue her?”

“The Autumn Court has rites and laws against such things. To bring my mother to the Day Court would be a declaration of war against Beron. My mother would have to leave of her own will.”

“Which is why you worry about ornamental females,” she says, her gaze not as soft as he imagined. But she steps toward him and rests her hand on his shoulder, then draws her to him in a hug. She smells of flowers, the crisp first bite of an apple, and dew at dawn, and in his arms she feels the way he always imagined a sister might, steady and kind, someone to whom he could always return.

Now that the truth has been revealed, he’s grateful to have found a friend in Elain Archeron.

But then, because no joy in Lucien’s life ever seems to stay complete for very long, she steps back and says:

“I wish you would take me with you.”

“Is it so unbearable to be around Azriel?”

The air in the room changes its texture, and Lucien knows he’s said the wrong thing, broken the moment, but Elain’s lips twist into a half-smile. “This court does not seem to share your feelings on the value of ornamental females.”

“You only need to look as far as your sisters to know that’s not true.” It seems that Lucien can no longer abide wallowing, no matter the moment they’ve just shared, or the fact that all Elain needs to do is scream and endanger them both. Vassa would kill him if he allowed her protégé to slide back into her old habits. “You could have tried to learn about your powers sooner if you’d wanted. Feyre would have ensured you had everything you wanted.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she says, her voice already too correct, too distant, “but why is it that being at the Spring Court felt like waking after a long sleep?”

“It could be the mating bond,” he tells her, and she stiffens, and Lucien is reminded again, the extent that she must be wrestling with this new development. He meets her eyes and softens his tone. “But it could also be that we find homes in unexpected places, sometimes.”

“Do you think that if we rescue Vaasa, we can return there?”

He wants to say yes, because already he is imagining that arrangement, living with Vassa in the daytime and sleeping beside her in the mild flower-scented nights, his lips at her neck and his arm around her waist,, worn out from helping Tamlin to build his court, developing a repertoire of jokes and taunts with Elain that will cause her to laugh and seethe in equal measure. But as much as Lucien would like to offer her these pleasant visions, and despite his years of practice, he finds that he can no longer bring himself to lie to Elain.

“If Vaasa is freed from her enchantment, she will go straight to Scythia.”

“And you — will you go with her?”

“She says that she will have to marry a human man.”

“You’re the heir to the Day Court, a powerful High Fae. Surely she and her people could not reject you so easily.”

“How did you feel about faeries when you were a human?” He does not say that inheritance and power are rarely uncomplicated in Prythian, even with a parentage as complicated as his own.

“I didn’t know anything true.”

“We are just as vicious as the tales you grew up learning. Feyre was always quick to point this out to me. But even so, I will not let her rot with Koschei.”

She reaches forward and squeezes his hand. Elain has never voluntarily touched him so many times in their acquaintance.

“Rhysand has wards around this residence,” she says, glancing at the timepiece that ticks noisily across the room, “be careful not to trip them.”

“The person who crafted this spell also taught Rhysand to build these wards.” He summons enough resolve to wink at her, a flash of his old self. “But if he’s made any updates to the wards, tell him I went to the Spring Court.”

Elain only nods, her face going serene while her eyes brighten, the only signal that she’s thinking through this latest piece of information. All at once, the similarity between them strikes Lucien: they see too much.

But tonight he does not want to know what forced Elain to learn those tricks of observation that have kept him alive, and so instead, with a little nod to her, he pulls on the magic that will bring him to the Day Court, and vanishes.

&

&

&

Lucien is never sure how Helion manages to be awake and present as soon as he appears, but the High Lord enters his personal library only moments after Lucien appears.

“I’ve been working on the spell,” Lucien says, by way of hello, falling into the nearest chair and summoning paper and pen with a flick of his wrist. In the Day Court, these are always close at hand.

Helion is quiet while Lucien maps out the architecture of the spell, his gaze a not-unpleasant weight.

“I was hoping I’d see you soon,” Helion says when Lucien pauses in his sketching. His voice is so unlike the arrogant mask he wears in formal assembly, the flirtatious tone he uses among friends. It’s the kind of voice Lucien, as a boy, would have imagined a father would use when speaking to his children, but once he learned who Helion was, the history at play, reality became too complicated for ease or warmth between them. This male left him to rot in the Autumn Court, didn’t acknowledge him for nearly a century. It’s hard to convince himself that a fatherly mien from Helion is anything more than a convincing mask.

“I’m playing emissary to two courts at once.” He does not look up from his notations, the geometry of Vassa’s bindings, the places on her body where she felt Koschei’s hold, where he’d seen the threads of the spell illuminate in darkened rooms, his golden eye whirring and eager.

“Tamlin needs all the assistance you can give. If he does not defend his borders, it’s only a matter of time before Beron takes advantage of the situation. Imagine the Autumn Court bordering the human lands.”

“There would be no human lands, soon enough,” Lucien says, unable to resist the comment, although he knows he cannot reveal too much.

“You know, I thought that Eris would have killed him by now.”

Lucien merely grunts, unwilling to say that Eris is just a bit more noble than everybody thinks, in part because he knows Helion will think him sentimental, and also because Eris will likely prove him wrong within the day. He concentrates on noting the elements which he thinks have shaped Koschei’s spell, their relations and connections, the components he cannot yet distinguish.

When he slides the paper over to Helion, filled with his writing and sketches, the room seems to still as the High Lord leans in to study the spell. The only sound is the sigh of his braids sliding to his shoulder, the beads at their ends sounding with little clinks.

Finally, Helion regards him with a little smile, his teeth flashing white against the deep plum of his lips.

“You’re making progress. I don’t think I could have done better. But if this were the magic that binds Vassa, I would have been able to break the spell already. There is some unfamiliar element that is missing.”

“There are stories that say Koschei is not of this world.” As he speaks, he tries to still his face, so that it does not betray the way his mind whirls. Relation or not, a High Lord’s thirst for power is legendary.

“If we could discover the workings of magic in the place of his origins… I will search my libraries.”

“Would it be better if we could discover the world where Koschei lived before he entered this one?”

“Of course. It would be invaluable to experience the workings of magic in that place.” Helion pauses, scanning Lucien. “You also know that there is no way to visit that realm. Unless you’ve found some unknown spell.”

“Something happened in the Spring Court,” he says, hoping it’s enough of a misdirect, leading to Tamlin or Vassa or the land itself. Rhysand will kill him if Helion shows up on his doorstep in search of Elain, or seeks to claim the bone.

But Helion quirks an eyebrow, a gesture that’s familiar enough to Lucien that he feels the expression forming on his own face.

“The last Archeron sister found her powers awakened?”

He could dither but there is no point. Not when he’s seeking a favor, a High Lord’s concentration and risk in order to rescue Vassa, who to the rest of Prythian may only be a human queen. He does not bother with the common story, that Elain has the gift of a seer. This gift would be of little assistance in their current circumstances, unless she saw the death of Koschei in vivid detail.

“She vanishes without the magic for invisibility,” he tells Helion. “And she spoke of passageways, doors between worlds. But she hasn’t learned to control her powers.”

“They’ve offered to train her at the Night Court.” Helion does not phrase this as a question, nor does he try to mask the disdain in his voice. Given his libraries and his skill with magic, he always feels that he should be consulted, court politics notwithstanding.

“You can imagine what it would mean if she could control her powers.”

“You know I will keep this secret,” Helion says, his voice solemn and his eyes intent on Lucien’s. “But I would also like to meet with the girl, if she’s willing. It would mean going against Rhysand, for one thing.”

Lucien doesn’t know how much of his ability to see spells and enchantments is inherited from this male, but he hazards a guess based on the rumors he’s overheard.

“What,” he drawls, “because Elain prefers to avoid her mate whenever possible?”

Based on the look Helion gives him, eyebrows stretching for his hairline, Lucien can tell that Helion knows this is a lie. But there’s only so much he’s willing to reveal.

“She came to care about Vassa in the Spring Court,” he says instead, careful to keep his voice even, to wear no comprehension or revelation on his features, “and I think she finally wants to learn to use her powers. I think she’ll be willing.”

Helion’s smile looks simple, an easy acceptance, but Lucien doesn’t trust it. Still, he lingers for another hour as they parse the spell, debating its workings between them, the missing elements and how they could be unraveled, and by the time he returns to the Night Court, he falls into a sleep that’s haunted by no sorcerers, no monsters, no court intrigue, where he forgets, for a few hours of oblivion, that Vassa isn’t there beside him.

[littlemisssquiggles]

So ...about "The Warrior in the Woods"...

Okay so this morning, this squiggle meister took a read at a preview for one of the stories that would be featured in the upcoming RWBY: Fairy Tales of Remnant set to release this year September 15th. It’s titled “The Warrior in the Woods”. If you haven’t read the small preview of the tale for yourself, you can find it right here on kobo.com where you can also preorder a digital copy of the book.

Speaking of, does anyone know where one can preorder a hardcopy version of this book? Or do I have to wait till it comes out in September to order the hard copy version then? Of all the upcoming RWBY-related projects that I was most looking forward to, it’s definitely this one and I’d definitely love to own a tangible copy of the book for myself if it’s available.

Anyways let’s talk about “The Warrior in the Woods” story specifically. Obviously I read it and without spoiling much from the short story, all I can say is that I definitely loved it. I think right out the gate, I’m going to peg this one as one of my favourites of the fairy tales purely because I found it to be a rather sweet one.

[SPOILERS AHEAD! NUFF SAID]

Plot-wise, the tale focuses on a young boy who ends up getting lost in the woods after wandering out too far from his home village while out playing with his friends. Basically the gist is that the people of this boy’s village have lived in peace away from the Grimm; so much so that the villagers; as well as its youths had never encountered a creature of Grimm before.

While lost in the forest, the boy is attacked by a Bolbatusk Grimm (I believe) during which he is rescued by a woman with silver eyes. In a nutshell, the boy is saved by a Silver Eyed Warrior which leads into a routine where every year from the day they met, the young boy would always return to the forest in the hopes of meeting the Silver Eyed Warrior again.

Let’s get into what I liked about this tale:  The whole relationship between the young boy and the Silver Eye who I will hereby refer to as “Warrior”. From the get-go, it’s very evident that the Boy is infatuated with the Warrior but what I found adorable was that this boy’s interest in the Warrior was what encouraged him to brave the forest in the hopes of seeing her time and time again for two to three more years (I believe if I’m remembering correctly). And what I thought was interesting was that each time the boy ventured into the forest, he was described as being much braver and stronger than previous encounters.

During his first encounter with the Warrior, the boy was completely powerless during his first run in with a Grimm but as the years went by, the boy would learn from his experiences and would go in a little more prepared each time. While he still needed the Warrior to come to his aid (which she always did in spite of saying she wouldn’t save him and telling him never to return), I definitely dug how much the boy began to mature with each time he met the Warrior as reflected in his growing combat competency.

I liked the angle of the Boy being motivated to become a stronger person thanks to his meeting with the Warrior. I liked that just as much as I love the angle of how much the Warrior in turn grew to care for the Boy in her own way.

When we first meet the Warrior, she described as strong and beautiful (by the Boy) yet hardened and reserved due to her past experiences since according to her story, her kind were known to be hunted and slain by humans because of their power (as we the readers are aware of from the main series as of V4-V6).

So due to this, the Warrior has basically settled into a life of solitude and survival. This is even reflected in her initial attitude towards the Boy since after saving him the first time, she warned him never to return again.

Unfortunately for the Warrior, she had underestimated the Boy’s persistence since he did return to her and each time they’d meet in the woods upon her saving him, the young boy would bring her gifts as a token of his appreciation and fondness of her as well as a symbol of their growing bond.

And in spite of pushing him away at first and all the times they would “meet” afterwards, I liked how it was shown how much the Boy had grown on the Warrior and how his compassion had warmed him up to her to the point that I think she began looking forward to seeing him in a way---or rather she expected him to always return to her in a sense.

Until one year when the boy returned to woods, he would find his Warrior gone. Whether that meant the warrior had eventually met her fate or simply moved on, I don’t know. It is of my assumption that the Warrior was ultimately killed in battle. The ending of story in regards to the Warrior’s fate felt a bit ambiguous to me. The story mentioned the possibility of the Warrior being dead but honestly never confirms it. Not really. So for me, I’m only assuming that the Warrior did die since that’s how the tale left her conclusion.

Now for the real meat of this post---the comparison that I’ve already seen my Rosegardening peers make after reading this tale and now I’m going to chip in and basically say the same thing too. 

Yes, the Boy and the Warrior definitely remind me of Oscar Pine and Ruby Rose. 

It’s actually kind of hard to NOT make that stark comparison.

After finishing the tale, my theory is that the Boy was probably around the same age as Oscar is currently when he first met the Warrior. Probably 14-15 years of age and I’d like to think that he was probably 17-18 years old by his third and last encounter with the Warrior since later in the story, the author began referring to the boy as a “young adult man” (I believe).  

As for the age of the Warrior, that one has me stumped to be honest. In the story, she is described as “woman”. I also recall the author describing the Warrior having strands of silver in her hair which made me think she was probably a much older woman---probably in her 40s.

Then again…women in their late 20s to early 30s can start showing signs of grey hair. Not to mention that people as young as 18 can start greying out due to family background and stress. 

So…in that case, I dunno. Going off the featured artwork of the Warrior in the preview, she doesn’t look to be that old at all. So I’m going to safely assume, that compared to the Boy, she was probably in her late 20s or so.  

That’s my cookie crumb deduction.

Either way, here we have yet a second example of a RWBY content featuring an adolescent male expressing romantic interest in an older woman with the writers behind the tale treating this dynamic as something wholesome and rather quite sweet. I would be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn’t rooting for the Boy and the Warrior to end up together-together.  I am NOT sorry. My hopeless romantic of a shipping heart couldn’t help but find the boy’s interactions with his Warrior to be adorable since the story treated it that way.

It’s for this reason why despite the story’s ending, a part of me is still kind of hopeful that the preview isn’t the whole story for that specific tale; y’know what I mean? Like I’m kind of hoping that once the full book is out, there will be more to the Warrior in the Woods story that potentially reveals the young boy and the Warrior reuniting and having their happy ending together.

I could be completely wrong here but dagnabbit, they got me again folks. Not gonna lie. I want this now. I need Roosterteeth to adapt this book into a new animated series like World of Remnant. These characters don’t even have names and already I adore their bond and story together.

Overall, as you can tell, I’m smitten with the relationship between the Boy and his Warrior. And the ending where the boy; now a man, professes his love for his Warrior since the day they met only made me gush even more over this pair. In the squiggle shire, we stan “A Boy and his Warrior”. That’s what I’m going to call this pair.

I guess the point that I’m trying to make here is that it’s nice to see a love---even if it was unrequited in a sense---between a young man and an older woman be treated respectfully in literature. We live in a time when people would screech over the slightest age difference while ignoring the context of the relationship itself.

Though only a short story, I’m happy that the author of Fairy Tales of Remnant portrayed the rapport between the Boy and his Warrior as a sweet relationship.

It’s here where I’m reminded of the Rosegarden dynamic. For the most part, the CRWBY Writers have always treated the bond between Ruby and Oscar as wholesome. It’s what makes the arguments against it in regards to their small 2-year age different sound so silly in my opinion.

So that being said, thank you CRWBY and E.C. Myers for creating yet another sweet dynamic between a young adolescent teenage boy and an otherwise “older” and much more experienced Silver Eyed Warrior.

“…I wish I could have been there for her,” he said slowly, “the way she was there for us.” If she was dead, she had died alone.

“Why did you keep going back there, year after year?” a village woman asked him. “Because she saved you?”

“For that reason, and for many more,” he said slowly. “But I believe she knew the deepest reason of all.”

The group waited. He gazed into the fire.

“I fell in love with her the moment I saw her silver eyes.”

- “The Warrior in the Woods” | Fairy Tales of Remnant by E.C Myers 

 I would like to say more about this story but I’m afraid right now, all I can give are my first impressions. In a way, my mind is all a tizzy with how much this tale got me thinking in respect to the growth and potential future of the Rosegarden relationship.

I’m not trying to imply that I’m taking this as a sign of their endgame. Nah. That would be too premature of me. But it did get me thinking and excited for them in respect to Oscar’s continued development.

I think what I loved and enjoyed the most out of this tale is how much the Boy reminded me of my favourite little prince and how his endearing love for his Warrior made me think of how much Oscar looks to Ruby as someone to believe in and perhaps, even fall in love with.

And what got me the most was the line about the Boy wishing he could’ve been there for his Warrior the same way she had been there for him and by extension the people of his village.

That line hit me deep since that’s exactly how Ruby has been with Oscar from the moment the two met!

Out of everyone amongst the hero team, Ruby has supported Oscar the most from the start. She’s always stood by him. Looked out for him. Protected him and believed in him or supported him even when others were reluctant about that.

She was the first person to mention how brave he is in spite of his fears. And above all else, Ruby inspired Oscar to be a stronger person. Not just for himself and the huntsmen in his care; like his teammates. But for her.

The Boy was inspired by the Warrior to become a stronger man, not just for himself but also the people of his village. Not only that but I loved how the young man even wanted to be strong enough to support his Warrior too

“…I wish I could have been there for her,” he said slowly, “the way she was there for us.”

I love that. I love that line because it reminds me of everything I’ve been saying about Oscar and his inspiration from the Little Prince.

What was the lesson the Fox taught the Prince? Love and responsibility. To be responsible for the people who love and support you just as much as you love and support them.

I got the same vibe from this story from the relationship between the Boy and the Warrior. The sad reality is that the Boy never got a chance to be there entirely for his Warrior and thus she was believed to have died alone; never truly knowing the whole truth of how much she meant to him and how much he loved her.

This is a parallel that I’m hoping for in V8 in respect to Oscar’s side of the story with him on his own in Mantle with only Oz. I’m hoping that during his journey back to Atlas; Oscar comes to terms with his feelings for Ruby. What would even be amazing is if at some point, the tale of the Warrior in the Woods is brought to life and told in the main series.

I would absolutely love it if at some point Oz would tell Oscar the Tale of the Warrior in the Woods when the little prince starts thinking about his rose. Even better, what if…“The Warrior in the Woods” is how Oscar learns the “Fox’s lesson to the Little Prince”?

Imagine if…Oz, fairy tale and it through hearing that story and learning of the Boy’s dedication to his Warrior that it helps Oscar realize how much Ruby means to him!

Overall, what I’m mainly anticipating is for Oscar to come to terms with his true deepest feelings for Ruby. For me, I would love it if Oscar really is no different than the Boy in the fairy tale. 

What would even be more of a trip is if Oscar is a descendant of the Boy or meets someone in his travels who is related to that boy in the tale and it’s a story and lesson that’s been passed down throughout their family for generations.

I know that might be pushing it a little bit but it’s not a bad concept. Either that or…Oz is the one who tells Oscar the Tale of the Warrior in the Woods. It would make sense for Oscar to hear that tale through Oz since, ironically, isn’t he the one who compiled the Fairy Tales from Remnant book? Correct me if I’m wrong. I know his notes are a feature of the book.

Anyways,  either way, I want to see Oscar realize how much he loves Ruby and it’s his love for her that further fuels his drive to support and protect her.

The Boy never got his chance to be there to protect his Warrior. While he kept her legacy alive through her story, the sad truth is the Warrior died alone never knowing how the Boy felt for her.

This is something I’m expecting NOT to be repeated with Rosegarden. I want to see Oscar promise to Ruby that he will always be there for her; fighting by her side for the cause they both believe him: Saving humanity. And above all else, I want to see Oscar realize his love for his rose in the hopes of one day telling her that to her face.

While I don’t know if we’ll have Ruby return Oscar’s feelings. Regardless, this is what I’m anticipating to see at least for Oscar’s side of things and this fairy-tale gave me more believe for that. Then again, it’s just a story and only time will really tell for what the CRWBY Writers have in store for V8. But a squiggle meister can wonder and hope, right?

In the meantime, like I said, I’m excited for the official release of Fairy Tales of Remnant.

I don’t plan on reading any more of the previewed stories though. I don’t know about some folks, but for this squiggle meister, I more want to wait till the book is out so I can hopefully get a hard copy because I do want to own the book itself.

That way I can read it through, make notes of things and always have that stuff on hand when I want to make a point of analysis for future musings and headcanon posts. Plus I really want that book. This is one of the sure-fire times where RoosterTeeth will actually get my money. (Still waiting patiently on dem Oscar merch though).

So with that being said, I think “The Warrior in the Woods” will be the ONLY story preview I will read and talk about for now.

I know there are previews for the other stories available but I’d rather not read them now. I think I’ll wait for the full book to go through and give my official thoughts then. We’ll see. Until then, this is all I got to say for now folks.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

[ante--meridiem]

Martin Blackwood for the ask game?

Oh boy. I have... a lot of feelings on this character, most neither particularly good nor particularly justified.

Why I like them: OK so I have to admit, the writing in the episodes that are actually centered on him goes hard. Also, he got the Lonely plotline, which is the entity I resonate with most. And he stands up for Jon, which God knows someone should. And he's a normal human person who is willing to take on any supernatural entity that crosses him, which is pretty brave of him, and characters taking advantage of people underestimating them is a trope I love. Also I just have to acknowledge that he's a complex, realistic and well written character, whatever my feelings about him may be on the whole. And he canonically writes poetry, which even if it's canonically "mediocre" still wins him some points in my book. Also his snark, his snark is very good (at least pre S5, post in season 5 his snarkier moments align too closely to the things I don't like about him).

Why I don't: He's petty, he's passive aggressive, he's got jealousy issues, and for the first half of season 5 at least he's deep in denial and displays the introspective abilities of a rock. He's prone to simplistic, black and white thinking and moral hypocrisy (season 5 at least - his "all avatars are irredeemably evil and deserve to die, except Jon and maybe Helen because I personally like them and know the specifics of their circumstances" shtick makes me so mad). And he doesn't add enough to the narrative for me to make up for it. Honestly though? The real reason I dislike him isn't so much all of that (all the characters are flawed and that's a good thing) as the fact that I feel like I'm supposed to like and relate to him more than I do, which built up into resentment and then... this. I... saw a post once that described him as the "most human" character tma and I have a lot of baggage and issues with that kind of usage of "human" but in a certain way I kind of agree actually, in that he is a type of person that has traits many people seem to see as "essence of humanity" in some sense but in a way that's always felt alienating and unattainable to me. And so I project the issues I have with that kind of rhetoric on a character that is objectively probably still the most innocent in his narrative despite his flaws and has done nothing to deserve my ire :).

Favourite Episode: I'm going to go with 180 (at least I think that's the number of the S5 episode featuring his domain? Ignore it if I got it wrong, but I'm referring to the episode in his domain) both because the writing is really damn good, and because it's the first ounce of introspection or self awareness he shows this entire season.

Favourite season: I actually liked him for a while in season 4. What does it say about me that I can only like him when he's depressed? Probably nothing good.

Favourite line: "and the suggestion was... fire!"

Favourite outfit: This is a podcast so we don't actually get to see what he wears, but I'm sure he has some excellent cosy sweaters.

OTP: Martin Blackwood/Introspection. I'm not a huge fan of jon/martin, but I don't hate it and I'd probably like it more if it didn't make up more than half the fandom content.

brotp: I just realised I don't have one, that's... kind of sad actually. Let Martin have close friends, he clearly needs and wants them.

Unpopular opinion: A negative unpopular opinion: while he's more supportive of Jon than any other character (which. the bar is underground there.), he's not actually very good at all at understanding him - not only does he ignore everything he doesn't want to see half the time, he doesn't even seem to see Jon's positive qualities early on - see: him being surprised that Basira found him funny - leaving me to wonder how on earth you can be that unobservant about someone you supposedly have a crush on.

A positive (as in, more in his favour) unpopular opinion: He did not owe Jon emotional support just because he had an (at the time believed to be unrequited) crush on him and I feel like some people act like he did, sometimes.

A wish: My main wishes for him were to become an avatar, develop some self awareness, and/or have a breakdown when reality hits him in the face and he's forced to confront that there will be no easy fix. Two out of three of these have actually happened at this point!

A please-god-don't-ever-happen: A lot of people in the fandom have commented on sharing his fantasy of killing Elias as an easy fix that resets everything and he and Jon get a happy ending as the ideal ending to the podcast and I just... you realise how narratively unsatisfying it would be to resolve a plotline that revolved around a lack of easy answers that simplistically, right? Right?

Five words to best describe them: underestimated, loyal, determined, petty, idealistic

Your nickname for them: Do people usually nickname characters? I don't have one, sorry.

[shamemp3]

can u tell me a little about the personality of each batkid?

i can try!! idk if it’ll be great bc a bunch of writers give them diff attitudes and stuff but ill give it a shot!

dick: he’s more on the outgoing side, and he usually likes to keep things light, BUT he can be very hot-tempered and impulsive, since he does let his emotions get to him a lot of the time (a lot of the fandom likes to believe he’s all happy-go-lucky all the time, but he’s really not). despite this, he’s a very logical thinker and he tries to avoid his feelings and his friends/family by overworking himself but that almost always ends up with burnout. he’s not the best at expressing his feelings but he’s also not as closed-off as you’d think, and he’s very very very compassionate and empathetic. he’s also trusting, but not too trusting, he’s still very logical and knows what he’s doing when he’s analyzing clues and evidence. he’s also very conflicted with himself bc he wants bruce to be proud of him and he thinks the only way that’ll happen is if he acts LIKE bruce, but he also wants to be nothing like bruce. he has very high standards for himself, and if anything goes wrong, he’ll hold himself responsible no matter what. so yeah!! he’s very complex bc he can be outgoing but he could also avoid all his loved ones for weeks, he can be very emotional and hot-tempered but he can also try to dismiss all his feelings and be blunt and forward, and he often struggles with which side of his personality is really him. he’s not the ‘happy boy’ that a lot of the fandom describes him as.

babs: she is very witty and serious about what she does!! she doesn’t really take anyone’s shit and tells people off when they deserve it. but, she’s also very very understanding and she usually knows what to say and when to say it. she’s also stubborn and if she has her mind set to do something, nobody can really stop her bc she’s just so determined and into what she does. even when she was a kid, she was very mature and just had a deeper understanding of things than others her age might. she’s very careful and likes to think a few steps ahead before she does something, and she rarely acts on impulse (but i could be misremembering). so yes!! she can be either tough or warm, depending on who she’s dealing with and what the situation is. she’s responsible, dependable, practical, and has a huge sense of responsibility. she rarely lets her emotions get the best of her during fights, and she has many goals for herself that she stops at nothing to accomplish.

duke: he just wants to help!! duke is brave and will stand up for what he believes is right. he’s also incredibly intelligent and independent and won’t let complications stop him from doing what he wants. he cares so much about protecting people and just people in general. he is also a leader and knows how to approach situations with an equal balance of logic and emotion. he knows the risks and downfalls of being a vigilante but he still believes that he needs to do it because he can and so therefore he should. sometimes he doubts himself and feels lost but he usually doesn’t let his feelings get in the way and affect his job and his responsibilities. he is willing to do anything to help others, and that’s why he’s incredibly brave and connected to the people around him. he also knows when he’s in over his head and he knows when to ask for help. he also sometimes feels like he doesn’t fit in and so he needs to prove himself, but he doesn’t shy away from talking about his feelings and expressing his doubts and insecurities. he has a strong moral compass and is so hardworking and doesn’t give up because he always bounces back from his insecurities. he’s incredibly grounded and just,,, yeah the huge thing about him is tht he is willing to do anything to help bc he just wants to do what’s right!!

cass: cass!! she just wants to belong to something, she is so incredibly loyal to her loved ones because she values them so much. she gives off mysterious and reserved vibes at first, but once people get past her walls, she will do anything for them. she is very focused and also an incredibly quick learner and skilled fighter. she’s able to adapt to situations quite well. before she mastered her speech skills, she would show people that she trusted them through touch, which is why she’s big on physical affection. she feels incredible guilt because of her childhood, which haunts her quite a lot. her discipline and sense of purpose are very important to her and often keep her grounded. cass holds herself to very high standards when fighting, she needs to be a perfect fighter, and she needs to be the best. she needs to save lives, and if she makes a mistake, she’ll feel immense guilt and throw herself into her training to make sure what happened isn’t repeated. she likes to work alone and can be aloof, but this does not mean she doesn’t care about her loved ones (she is very compassionate), she just doesn’t always find it easy to express her feelings. she is also incredibly afraid of the death of her loved ones. as batgirl, she’s very intimidating and dark. she wouldn’t hesitate to risk herself if it meant saving someone else. her empathy can be overwhelming to her because her feelings are very strong, even though she doesn’t always reveal them. 

jason: people like to think that jason has always been angry and vengeful, but before he died he was nothing like that!! he was a very hopeful kid as robin and he liked banter and quips and was less serious than dick himself as robin. after jason died though, he grew to be very complex. his emotions are very intense, and depending on how much he controls them, they’ll either help him or they’ll ruin him. he can be rash and impulsive and can struggle with controlling his anger, but he does have a big heart, he just tries very hard to protect himself and not be vulnerable because after he came back to life, he found it hard to trust others (because he trusted bruce but then found out that bruce let the joker live), so he chooses to be independent and depend on himself. he’s neither a hero or a villain. he wants to help and protect those that can’t protect themselves, but his methods are different than the rest of the batkids in the sense that he will take the final step and kill people if he feels they deserve it. when he first came back to life, he kind of showed his feelings through his anger, but the longer he stayed alive the longer he grew to deal with his emotions, even though he’d slip up every once in a while (which we all do). also important to mention that he takes no joy in killing, he just believes that it's what has to be done. he’s impatient but he appreciates when people take the time to be understanding with him instead of judge him based on his past. basically he is also a very complex character, and he’s not the “bad boy” the fandom likes to pit him as.

steph: steph!! early on she was written as kind of aggressive, but that kind of faded?? idk she is stubborn and determined, and she can’t be held back. she’s friendly and warm but she’s also blunt and forward; she’s very honest with her opinions. she likes to think outside the box when fighting, and can be impulsive at times. she’s very patient and understanding and just understands people very well but like i mentioned, she won’t shy away from expressing her thoughts and feelings. steph doesn’t let people push her around, and is very strong. she doesn’t let herself feel down, she wants to be strong, especially in front of others. she’s funny and she likes to act cool and down to earth, and doesn’t like to disclose her negative thoughts to people around her, but every once in a while her anger will come back. she loves the rush of being a vigilante, but sometimes she can be too risk-taking and impulsive. she’s independent and mature, and very driven. sometimes she struggles with understanding herself, but she often keeps her feelings to herself (not always tho). she believes she has a responsibility to go out and protect the city, because she wants prove to herself that she is nothing like her dad, so she’ll take her job seriously, even if it comes at a cost. she has a confident attitude, whether she truly feels that way or not. she’s sarcastic and talkative and likes to be tough, but not everyone gets to know what really goes on inside her mind.

tim: in terms of thinking, tim is very similar to bruce. he makes an incredible detective and is very observant and focused. like dick, he tends to overwork himself, often to ignore how he feels. he’s very loyal and charismatic and keen, and loves doing what he does. he tends to doubt himself a lot and doesn’t always believe that he’s fit to be robin, even though he’s arguably the best detective out of the robins. he likes to work alone and can be awkward, but he’s still charismatic and likeable, and is very good at reading people. he’s serious and careful and tends to think first before doing anything. sometimes his logic can take over and he ends up ignoring his feelings. he can be reserved and distant because he doesn’t want to get too involved with people knowing how unstable and spontaneous his job/life is. he’s calculated and knows when to make difficult decisions, and is good at understanding his feelings. he’s a good balance of serious and laid-back, and knows how to act in different situations. but yea, sometimes he doesn’t want to deal with his feelings and instead chooses to put them aside and focus on something else, which ends up in him bottling up a bit too much. but yeah!! he’s very reasonable and also witty, and more well-spoken than people like to give him credit for. i feel like all i did is just talk about how logical he is but he IS also incredibly caring and understanding and he loves his friends and family and he notices little things about them. his self-doubt rarely stops him from doing what he knows is important, and he just wants to help change things for the better.

damian: he can seem arrogant, mean, and angry on the surface, but it’s just because he’s very careful with who he chooses to let in. he wants to prove that he’s worthy and skilled to both bruce and himself. he doesn’t really know how to deal with his emotions a lot of the time so he ends up being cold a lot of the time. he sometimes chews off more than he can take, just because he wants to prove that he can be independent and capable all on his own, but that often gets him in trouble. that being said, he is still an incredible fighter, he just hasn’t had as much experience as the others (obviously) and likes to take on more than he can. once he lets people in, he’s excited, funny, and energetic around them, and definitely not as cold as before, but he still is not too open about his feelings. he wants to fit in and spend time with his loved ones but he’s also afraid of being too open and vulnerable (which like. are u surprised. just look at his parents). he wants very badly to prove himself and also to help people and can feel very guilty if he cant save someone. when it comes to killing bad guys, he’s not opposed to it, he just doesn’t do it because neither dick or bruce want him to. in general he’s just very conflicted with his feelings and wanting to be more out there but also being very afraid of vulnerability. he also hates being underestimated, and is still learning to understand his emotions and deal with his anger.