#after their father left (minus the years lost to the war of course)

[normalbrothers]

tommy's faith and trust in arthur's ability to take charge/take responsibility/be The Man is so astounding and bitter sweet, both in terms of how much the war broke arthur but also tommy's own sentimentality when it comes to him. and it's not a belief based on nothing at all either! it's knowledge and experience, and it's sort of the core problem when it comes to the frustration and resentment they feel towards each other; the constant back and forth and never seeing eye-to-eye despite craving that very thing and wanting something from the other that is impossible to give, because they are both so damaged in such irreparable ways

[katsubiatch]

Distant Shores-1

Summary: The heathens came to raid every year, stealing treasures and killing along the way. Your father was the King of Wessex and wanted to strike a deal with the heathens. The heathens and their ruthless numbers in exchange for some lands to farm, riches... and you. You are the Christian princess that is now to marry the Heathen King, a man that you're sure would rather kill you than marry you. This is going to be a miserable marriage.

A Viking!BakugouxReader fic.

Warnings: Arrange Marriage, general viking things, abusive father

They came every year, rowing to shore in their long boats with the intricately decorated dragon or serpent heads, shields of all colors decorating the sides. They would set up camp near the edges of the water, far enough to stay dry but not so far that they couldn't leave in a haste if need be. Violent in their tendencies and lacking the most simple of manners. Vulgar in their speech but carefree and happy. Men and women fighting side by side. They were tall, muscular, built like the gods they worshiped. Some with long hair that was braided back from their face, others with the sides shorn short and what was left was braided. Almost all had some sort of facial hair, minus the young ones desperately trying to grow it in, and if that was long enough it would be braided as well. Their clothing was not all together different from what you were used to. Perhaps not as ostentatious or gaudy as a he clothing around court. It was practical and useful, rather than just for show. Your father, the King of Wessex, was intrigued by these heathens as he called them. They had came ashore last year, destroying a few temples and killing all the holy men and women inside of them while stealing all the treasure inside, before taking their leave back to their homelands. It was interesting to say the least, though they had heard of these northmen before this was only the second time they had made camp on their shores. So In an effort of good faith your father decided to invite them to the castle, to talk he said. He wanted to strike a deal with them. He was going to offer a few things he thought they could not refuse. So he sent out a messenger to bring back their leaders for a feast. They spoke in a different tongue, looking at the women of court with lustful eyes as they ate. One man, who seemed to be their leader spoke up as he looked at the King. "What is it you have to offer me?" He spoke your language but it was choppy with the words out of place. You were surprised to find he knew the words at all. His hair was short on the sides, the rest braided back until it ended in a short pony tail. He had red eyes that you felt could pierce through anything or anyone. Scars littered his arms and bare chest, an axe and a sword at his hips. "Well, I am willing to offer some lands for you to do as you wish. Farm, build settlements. They are yours to do as you wish. I am also willing to offer you something more." The man said, grinning at the Viking earl. "I am offering my pure daughter, Y/N, to you." You. You were an offering. You always knew that your marriage would be arranged but you didn't think like this. To someone who had different customs, a different language, a different land someone who was different in almost every way possible. You wanted to throw up

The last thing that you thought your father was going to offer up was you. After all you were his only daughter and you figured that you would be married off to someone, a prince or lord in order for you father to gain some lands or troops for wars. Though you supposed this was kind of the same thing. The last thing that you expected was to be offered up to the Heathen King. You could feel his gaze on you, calculating red eyes watching your every move. You kept your eyes downcast, a habit from living in the castle for so long. You tried your hardest to hide the look of shock on your face, train it into a neutral expression.

"Well aren't you lucky, you get the Christian princess." One of the men next to the Heathen king spoke to him, in their language. One that you didn't understand.

"I have no need for a wife... but I could make it work. His proposition is interesting. I feel like he is going to double cross us."

The viking seemed to contemplate for a minute, hand rubbing over his chin as he looked you up and down before looking back at his men. "I will accept your offer, but I am surprised you would give up your virgin daughter to such a... heathen like myself." You could feel your face heat up at that, like they were talking about you without you even being there, despite the fact that you could feel the Vikings eyes on you the entire time.

"Well you are the man I need to make an alliance with right now." Your father stated, leaning back in his chair. "She will make a fine wife, I'm sure she can adjust to your ways." It became quite obvious to Bakugou that the king did not care about his daughter and what happened to her. He knew of the rumors that were spread about them. How they raped women and killed them when they no longer 'served their purpose.' He could tell you were scared but it seemed as though your father did not care.

"Then she will leave with us in the morning, we will be married under our Gods." Bakugou grunted, taking a long drink out of his cup, eyes never leaving your shaking frame. There was not much more that you could take, you didn't want to marry yet let alone a barbarian that you didn't even know. Someone who hardly spoke your language, who had different customs and Gods than you.

You excused yourself and made your way out of the hall, running as soon as you were out of sight. You couldn't slow your breaths, they were coming much too fast. You felt as though you were hyperventilating and needed to calm down. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe it would be okay. Once you made it to your room you had calmed down just a bit. You still did not want to marry this man. He looked cruel and would surely just have his way with you.

You sighed as you sat at your vanity, taking out the clips and pins that held your hair up in its complicated look. You supposed now you'd have to have it in the braids you saw on all the Viking women. You moved it back away from your face when you heard a knock on the door that caused your heart to race. You knew it was your father, sent to give you instructions that you didn't want to follow.

"Well, you embarrassed me out there. Running away like that, it's almost like you don't want to marry that brute." Your father hadn't waited for an answer to come in. "You have to make him happy, the last thing I want is them storming our shores because you're too stupid to please this man."

"Father I don't want to marry him. I do not know him and... and what if he kills me? You could marry me off to a prince from a neighboring land and they could offer your army to help if the viki,.." you started to say before you were struck against the cheek. The king of Wessex didn't like being told what to do, especially not by a woman.

"You will listen to what I have to say child, you will do as you are told, no questions. You will marry that brute and you will like it. Keep him pleased bed remind him of our treaty or I can send someone to remind you of your place." Your father threatened, pointing a finger in your face while you held your cheek and tears sprang out of your eyes. You had thought perhaps he had some shred of love left for you, however he just saw you as a bargaining chip.

That night you did not sleep well, tossing and turning. Dreaming about a pair of bright red eyes.

The next morning your maids had dressed your for the last time, putting you in a simple dress and cloak that wasn't too showy but was still made of fine fabrics that showed your status. A bruise had formed on your cheek from your fathers ring but that was something he didn't try to hide anymore. His daughter had a wild tongue according to him, and he needed to correct it. This wasn't the first time that he had struck you, but you were hopeful it would be the last. Unless of course your new husband was the same.

You were told you didn't need to pack anything, your husband to be would provide everything that you'd need. Least that is what they told your father. So down you went to where they were waiting, restless horses under even more restless men. They'd been giving plenty of gold and treasures to get them through the winter so they were eager to get back home. "Here she is, your future wife." The King said, presenting you to the Viking leader. You dared to look up at him, seeing the same eyes that had plagued your dreams. You watched his eyes flick around your face, lingering on your cheek before landing on your eyes. You soon looked away, not wanting to cause any new problems. It was the way you were raised, never look a man too long in the eyes. It was disrespectful. "She has some problems obeying but I am sure you can get her in line." The king winked befor pushing your towards the horse that Bakugou was on. He looked down at you before hoisting you on top of the beast to sit in front of him. Your face turned a bright pink, you'd never been this close to a man before, and his bare chest was burning into your back. You supposed that you'd have to get used to this if you were to be married soon.

Your father and future husband shared a few words with each other that you didn't pay attention to before you were off. The entire ride the few Vikings that had come along we're all talking in their own language, nothing that you understood but they seemed to be in good spirits, laughing and joking. You were lost in your own world, gently running your fingers over the horses mane before you heard the man behind you speak up. "What happened to your face?"

You weren't expecting it after how quiet he'd been for the entire ride so you jumped at the sudden noise behind you. You chewed on your cheek, deciding on an answer before landing on, "My father was correcting me. That is all." You weren't sure of the correct answer but that apparently wasn't it as you heard a grunt behind you and a small growl.

Before long you made it back to the Viking camp, which was mostly torn down at this point, bustling with activity. The boats were being packed, tents torn down and supplies being put up. You were in awe at how fast they worked, and were intrigued with the people and what they were doing. It was almost like a culture shock, you were used to the castle and this was something different. The man that was to be your husband helped you off your horse and gave you a warning to stay close. In the matter of an hour everything was packed up, you staying close to the man was he went around inspecting work and checking things before he lifted you onto a boat and climbed on himself.

The boat itself was amazing, all the little attentions to detail was beautiful, your fingers traced over the edge and the little designs there. You were again in awe, you could deal with this. If you could see little things of beauty like this then you could take it. Once set off to the sea your eyes were wide with wonder. You hadn't ever been this far before, you hadn't even been out on the water and it was breath taking. You couldn't get enough. That is... until you were sprayed in the face with the water. You coughed and shook your head, as the men on the boat laughed. You didn't complain however, you were still just in awe of the sights. What you didn't notice was a curious pair of eyes watching you from the other end of the boat, never leaving you as he watched you drink in everything. He was curious about you, that was for sure.

After getting hit with the ocean water you learned your lesson about staying too close to the edge. However as night time drew closer and the sun went below the horizon it was freezing and your cloak wasn't cutting it. However you didn't complain, instead just hugged it closer to yourself.

"It looks like your princess is going to freeze to death." One of the rowing men commented, looking over to Bakugou. "Might want to warm her up."

Bakugou heard this and in turn stood up with a grunt before walking over to you and unceremoniously dropped on of his furs onto your shoulders. You looked curiously up at him, but melted into the warmth it gave. "Thank you." You chattered out, cuddling close to the furs.

"Can't let you freeze, princess." Bakugou murmured as shuffled back over to where he came from. You watched him go and smiled softly, perhaps he wasn't so bad after all.

[jadoue1999]

Peter Maximoff’s complicated relationship with Star Wars

Summary: Peter didn't like Star Wars. But not because they were bad movies, no. It's because they somehow were very similar to his own life, and they also showed him what might have been, had his twin lived long enough. This is the story of Peter Maximoff, told through the many similarities between the original trilogy and his own life.

*All Star Wars quotes are in italics*

Peter doesn’t like Star Wars

Don’t get him wrong, the movies are great. The first movie had come out when he was 22 years old, and he had found it amazing. He had never seen anything like it before and had sneaked into the movie theater to rewatch it with his twin several times.

‘I need your help, Luke.’

It was almost ironic how his life resembled some parts of the movie. Both he and Wendy had some characteristics of Luke and Leia. He was the goofball, the one who had been recruited to break someone out of an impenetrable prison. Hell, Charles could be Obi-Wan, the old wizard with strange mind control powers (though he didn’t have them at the time), Hank was Chewbacca, the fierce beast who was loyal to his family, and then the claw guy, Logan, was Han Solo. The dark-haired man with a don’t-mess-with-me attitude that would shoot you down without hesitation. That made him Luke, the farm boy that was raised isolated, unaware of the true danger. Only difference was that Erik wasn’t Leia, no he was Vader. Wendy was Leia, the fierce, loud mouthed, badass princess that didn’t let anyone boss her around.

They had loved the first movie, but then tragedy struck. His twin’s powers were always unpredictable, always on the verge of lashing out. He had tried to help as much as he could, but just a few months after their 23rd birthday, it was too much for Wendy to bear. She lost control and died, taking half a block with her. Peter did his best to carry on, but their lost connection was all he could feel. The aching emptiness that had always been occupied by his twin sister. It took awhile, but he did eventually go see the second Star Wars. It was... a bittersweet experience to say the least.

Seeing the big bad Vader being related to Luke really did a number on him. All he could think about was the fact that he too was related to a literal terrorist. Someone who had hurt hundred of people and would probably not hesitate to hurt him as well. And then it was revealed that Luke and Leia shared a connection, where they could hear each other and feel each other, and it just overwhelmed him. Minus the kissing (ew, that was gross, why did they even include that?!) Luke and Leia’s relationship reminded him of his and Wendy’s.

That’s why he wasn’t surprised when they were revealed to be twins in the next movie.

Actually, he had been surprised, but more about the fact that his grief took over for a moment. Seeing Leia try to reason with Luke, telling him that nothing good would come out of chasing Vader, their father... that was a conversation that had really happened after their mom told them who exactly was Magneto. Peter had decided to chase Erik down the moment he had resurfaced.

‘I won't fail - I'm not afraid.’

‘Oh, you will be. You will be.’

His mom had warned him about Magneto, how nothing good came out of chasing ghosts, but he had to try. A confrontation with the Dark Lord of the Sith.

Cloud city The mansion was full of people, and the place was exploding. He saved them all (minus one), of course, because that’s what he did. Why be a speedster if you can’t save people from catastrophe?

‘Luke, don't - it's a trap!’

Yeah, it had been a trap, alright. But unlike Luke, he hadn’t had Leia to warn him. So, the carbon freezing chamber knock out gun had worked. That’s how he ended up captured by the government and woke up in a weird green room. The others, he could understand why they were taken, they seemed to know the man holding them, but why him? Peter was of no interest to them. Unless they knew he was related to Magneto and planned to use him as a bargaining chip, but it seemed unlikely.

Then, they were freed and, on their way to confront En Sabah Nur, or as Hank had described him, the blue god. He had told Raven about his relationship with Erik, and she promised him that she would make sure she would tell him.

‘There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you.’

The cold, cold eyes of Magneto were staring at him with something that seemed almost like interest. “And you?”

‘I am your father.’

It was right there, a perfect opportunity served on a silver platter. An opportunity to make Erik realize he wasn’t alone, that he had more family. Perhaps he’d turn back to the light side if he knew. “I’m your-“

But it was Wendy who was the brave one, she was the chosen one. She never would have hesitated. And he wasn’t his sister. “I’m here for my family too.”

It was all sad and tragic because his life was just like that. He could feel Raven’s eyes on him, she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t told him, but she couldn’t know about Wendy. It was his own painful secret.

With how similar his life was to Luke’s he wasn’t sure why he was even surprised when he got his hand cut off leg broken. Then, there he was, trying to hold on to consciousness as shock settled into his body.

‘Hear me! Leia!’

Oh, how he wished Wendy were here. She would have destroyed them. Peter would have done anything for his twin to answer, like Leia did with Luke. But she was dead, there was no one to answer him. Just the cobwebs of their broken connection and the burning pain of his leg. He didn’t really care what happened next, he was all too focused on getting his message to his long-lost sister. He didn’t really believe in a higher power, of some all-powerful entity that somehow watched over everyone. He did, however, believe in Wendy, his strong, beautiful, powerful sister.

‘I would have preferred her too’

The blue God’s voice resonated in his head, catching him off guard. No one had ever reached in his mind like that, Wendy only could because of their connection.

‘If you will not turn to the dark side, then perhaps she will.’

Would his father have tried recruiting Wendy for his brotherhood? Yeah, definitely. She would have been the true last hope. A daughter to be proud about. One with abilities beyond anything anyone had ever seen. One that truly would have saved everyone, hell, she would have prevented the mansion from exploding and never would have been captured in the first place. The blue god looked at him with disdain in his eyes and Peter knew it didn’t mean anything good. He tried to crawl away, but in his current position, that did absolutely nothing.

‘It is pointless to resist, my son.’

En Sabah Nur grabbed him by the hair and tugged, holding him painfully upright and vulnerable. He’d always hated staying still, he was always too full of energy, always eager to chase after the next distraction.

Peter looked up at his father, trying to see if he would do anything, but he saw nothing but indifference. Magneto didn’t care about him. He was an insignificant mutant, a face amongst a thousand others. Soon to be counted amongst the hundred of corpses that Erik had seen in his life.

‘Now, young Skywalker...you will die.’

The god pulled his head back sharply, exposing his throat. “End him.”

One of his horsemen was approaching him with a sharp sword. Peter was slightly thankful that it wasn’t his dad that was chosen to be his executioner. His powers had kicked in, trying to give him an opportunity to escape. But it only made his imminent doom even worse.

Then, he didn’t die, and the hope of seeing his twin again was brushed aside for another near-death situation. As it turned out, Raven was a great person when the son of her friend was in danger.

En Sabah Nur let him go too quickly to focus on the blue mutant. He gasped and writhed as he fell to the ground as electricity pain coursed through his body. The blue god didn’t care about him, he continued calling for Charles, calling for his true target.

‘Father! Help me!’

He should cry out like Luke did, there was no way Magneto would act if he didn’t. Then again, he didn’t have a clue who he was. It was doubtful he remembered him from the Pentagon, it had been nearly 10 years and Erik had had a whole other family since. He was just the nameless idiot that got a big head and tried to take on a god and got defeated like a loser.

In the end, they were all fine, just a little shaken. Erik gave him a weird look, either he pitied him, or he was wondering what he had wanted to tell him. But Peter was on the verge of passing out, there was no way he could hold a conversation at the moment. They came back to the mansion and Peter decided to stay, maybe getting out of his isolation wouldn’t be so bad.

So, even if his life was similar to Star Wars, in its turns and tragedy, it wasn’t even close to how the trilogy ended. The scruffy Han never came back, Obi-wan wasn’t next to a redeemed Anakin (he just left all together) and Leia wasn’t at his side anymore. A happy ending wasn’t something that happened in real life. Everything he wanted resolved wasn’t wrapped neatly into a bow. He still had his loads of daddy issues caused by a father who didn’t know was a father and Wendy, his amazing long gone twin still wasn’t at his side. Peter figured that some good would eventually come to him, it couldn’t be all bad, right?

‘This is our most desperate hour.’

He had faith in that, so, when he was woken up by a burning sensation in his chest, he did his best to understand. The pain was so familiar, it was grief. But not his grief, no, this came from the connection he shared with his twin.

“Wanda?” he called out. Using her real name because she was calling to him. Because she needed him. Because she was somewhere all alone.

“I had a brother, his name was… Pietro.”

It was painful for her to talk about him, so he made sure to let her know through their bond that he was there for her, she just had to reach out. Wanda was confused to feel him, but her scarlet magic soon opened a portal. It might be a trap, there was no way to be certain, but Peter trusted his sister. He took and deep breath and ran into the portal without hesitation. She was alone and she was suffering, it was his job as her twin to help her.

‘Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.’

[sheeswee]

Very long character analysis/headcanons on the kidnap fam + Maglor & Maedhros’ dealings with trauma ahead ^_^

Maglor is more fair tempered and less quick to react than Maedhros, so I feel like the way his trauma would effect him is never talked about... he’s always just “the sane one” but he went through the same stuff as Maedhros (minus some torture and loss of a lover) but he has the same terrible experiences as him and we should talk more about that.

When they adopted (kidnapped) the twins they had just lost their own twin brothers, the last two besides themselves. They were now the only ones left in Fëanor’s line besides Celebrimbor and were completely alone in the world, without allies or hope.

Yes, Maglor didn’t inherit his father’s temperament, but he still murdered, he still fought, he still swore the oath.

I imagine Maglor’s issues are more unpredictable, and that he probably has very intense ups and downs. Most of the time he’s just Maglor. Somewhat serious and practical, but also good with the kids and a bit overprotective and fussy. After all, he was an older brother, too. It wasn’t only Maedhros who looked after and was responsible for the sons of Fëanor.

But sometimes he would break. He would get that look in his eyes and wander off. If you followed you’d hear him rambling, talking to someone not there, or crying, or both.

Sometimes while holding one of the kids in his lap he would go into a trance, playing with their hair for hours, refusing to let them go and not acknowledging a word said to him.

Sometimes they look for Maglor and find him in a trance, eyes fixed on nothing, plucking sharp chords on his harp. They leave his dinner beside him and tell him to eat before it’s cold.

Maedhros is different. Maedhros has days where he is jumpy, and any touch makes him flinch hard, hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes blazing and furious and terrified. Maedhros never appears scared in any situation, not battle nor weather nor sickness... except of an unexpected touch, or a raised hand. He always apologizes profusely, it’s a knee jerk reaction for him.

Sometimes, when he sleeps, which he doesn’t do as often as he should, he murmurs nonsense, twitching and breathing fast, pale as a ghost. Whenever he wakes from a nightmare he is especially jumpy, and often irritable for the day. He does not mean to lash out, and he always says he is sorry, but the words are just noise. He is not himself those days.

Sometimes, Maedhros and Maglor fight. It’s never loud, no yelling or getting physical, but sharp angry words at night when they think the kids are asleep. They try not to make it obvious when they aren’t speaking, but Elrond and Elros learn to read them easily.

But sometimes, Maedhros and Maglor speak so warmly and fondly of people and places in a language long dead, the kids can almost see who they were before. Under scars and lines of weariness and horror unimagined, there were once two young and joyful elven princes, who’s worries were simple of raising brothers, impressing fathers and strengthening alliances with friends rather than enemies.

Despite it all, the kids love them dearly. It’s not always like this, and they’re usually somewhat of a functional kidnap family. They learn to adapt, and become expert empaths after learning all the signs of when someone is having a bad day, or when to be cautious of raising their hand or their voice.

It does not change how they feel towards Maedhros and Maglor in the slightest. To Elros and Elrond, it is just a part of living with them they do not love them despite it, they love them for it. Because it is Maedhros who holds them on cold nights and tells them of valinor, and Maglor who teaches them the stars.

They are a family, in some ways, at least.

...

This is a spin off thought from all that, but I imagine Maedhros at first tries to keep a distance between himself and the kids. He doesn’t want these two innocents to be associated with kinslaying fëanorians. To Maedhros, the best option is to make sure the kids continue to hate and fear him, to maintain the hostage and captor role. That way, when they get returned to someone who can actually raise them, nobody will blame them for being around two notoriously hated and despicable exiles.

This, of course, does not work. Maedhros grows to love the kids immensely, and though he won’t say it aloud, they are the reason he is alive besides the oath. They are the reason why he keeps fighting to lift the curse of his kin. If he can just free himself and Maglor, and protect these kids... because in them, he sees his dead brothers, who he couldn’t save. Who he couldn’t free. Who he couldn’t protect no matter what he did. How many hundreds, thousands of years of war did he fight and sacrifice and amend and break just to keep his family alive, and to no avail? How many times did he play the good guy and destroy his reputation to save his brothers? And every time it was ruined. Every time it ended worse than it began. No amount of time would release him from their oath. It would have to he fulfilled. 

And for a while, they ignored it. He and Maglor turned a blind eye to their binds while raising the kids. They knew the consequences of ignoring it would be severe, but at this point why even try to be the good guys anymore? All that had done was spit in their faces.

After a long while, when the silmarils were recovered and stored away, Maedhros convinced Maglor to go with him and steal them back. To give the kids to someone who would protect them and didn’t have a ticking bomb attached to them, ready to go off at any time.

Maedhros knew now that if they could bear through it a little longer- do this the hard way but get it over with, reclaim the silmarils and lift the curse- they would finally be free. It would be over.

But it wasn’t.

When they stole them, bore them away, and held them at last in their hands it burned their flesh unbearably. They had been deemed evil and unworthy by the Valar. What greater betrayal than to be told by the gods they would be broken to the death unless their oath fulfilled, and then told once fulfilled that in doing so they were no longer saveable?

Everything, every word spoken, battle fought, blade bloodied, brother lost, war waged and step taken, was in vain. Every single action Maedhros had every taken, in hopes of saving his family. In hopes of maybe saving himself, was for nothing.

[lady-plantagenet]

Unsolicited Book Reviews (n5): Wife to theKingmaker

Rating:

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Even before I had an account I had a tendency to go to tumblr to see people’s opinions before buying a histfic novel. Certain books are either severely underrepresented where I feel like there needs to be something on them, whereas others that are talked about enough - something more can still be said. So for my quarantine fun, I had decided to start a series where I review every medieval historical fiction novel I read. Hopefully, it will either start interesting discussions or at least be some help for those browsing its tag when considering purchasing it.

TL;DR: Ok swear to god this book was written by two different people. The ending was actually heart-wrenching, but so much had annoyed me throughout that I swore to myself to never again touch this genre for my own health. Twas an odd tale, and tbh the fact that it was odd probably elevated it from the 2 stars (or hell maybe even 1 if it was going to get any more richardian) to 3. Honestly, quite glad I read it in the end. Not the most historically informative, but some of the character arcs were actually quite neat (however extremely farfetched). Spoiler Warning: I’m going to divulge a lot on here because I know no one who follows me is going to read this book.

Plot: Ok, the plot... It was only after I placed my order that I realised this is the Sandra Heath Wilson of ‘Cicely’s King’ fame. I cringed and didn’t know what to do. For all you innocents out there... her Cicely series is a saga wherein Cecily of York pretty much bangs everyone who is male and from the house of york (minus her father and uncle George) and Even Henry VII(!!). She then has this kid by Richard III, calls him Leo and the rest is history(this is what I gleaned from goodreads). Nevertheless it had already shipped and honestly I had it coming; the synopsis does say she has an affair with her brother-in-law John Marquis of Montagu. Whatever, I couldn’t resist buying the only novel about Anne Beauchamp, and since it was published in the 70s/80s I knew it would at least be flamboyant and go all out. It delivered enough for it to have been worth reading.

So the novel follows Anne Beauchamp!(Nan) from when she is a 13 year old girl to 1478 when she finally leaves Beaulieu to go live at Middleham with her (as you guessed it- favourite) daughter Anne and her oh so belovéd son-in-law Richard Duke of Gloucester - You see? Since now finally the Great Other (Mr George) is finally vanquished England has its peace. Of course this is not true, Nan historically left the abbey in 1473 for Middleham and while I wanted a possible explanation from the author (who I would assume is better researched than I) for whether she went to Middleham out of her own volition or simply because the King trusted Gloucester better than Clarence... alas I got none. It was all pinned on the fact that the evil George (who as per usual alternates between omnipotent mastermind to absolute drunken himbo at the turn of a page) would not have her free for as long as she lived (for whatever reason). I really think the real historical explanation was because Edward trusted Gloucester - because after all Warwick Castle was Nan’s patrimony not Middleham. I doubt Nan had a choice in the matter but, the point is, Isabel was alive in 1473 and since there’s zero historical record or suggestion that Nan and Anne had ever seen her again, it would have been nice to have had a depiction of the conflicted feelings or a final meeting written for the three women. I’ll let it slide I guess, after all, one needs to cut some slack when it comes to books written pre-internet age by non-historians. And unlike Sunne in Splendour, this book does not purport to be completely accurate or a representation of the truth.

Christ some sub-plots were truly unexpected. One that made me groan at first was the whole arc between Nan and her niece Eleanor Butler. In this book she’s her ward (not historically true) and little Eleanor is all sweet and innocent and virtuous and, hell, at one point we get more Nan-Eleanor interaction than even between Nan - her own daughters (particularly Isabel who would have been the right age and a better substitute for Eleanor in their dialogue, but alas, who cares about Isabel right?). Eleanor even is the one to accidentally discover that Margaret of Anjou slept with Edmund Beaufort, siring Edward of Lancaster.

Ok. You’re probably thinking, god how trite eugh the Richardians are at it again, right? Yeah ok the Richardians are at it again, but it turns into something really neat at the end. Essentially, as I said, Nan has an affair with John Neville Marquis of Montagu (long story that I will expand on in characterisation) and she and him come upon Edward and Eleanor (overhearing them nothing more). So Edward and Nan then have this mutually assured destruction between them, because Edward divulges that he saw Nan and John years later when Nan confronts him (by this time he is married to Elizabeth Woodville) that she knows about the pre-contract with the intention of telling him off. He tells her that if she dares tell Warwick about the pre-contract he will tell Warwick about John, so she then agrees (also because she promised her niece that she would keep it quiet for the safety of her son by Edward). Years later when they meet again, Edward realised how much is at stake for Nan (especially since it turned out she loved Warwick all along and Edward figured that out), and so, during the period of John’s back-and-forth loyalties (we know he was disgruntled by the loss of the Northumberland Earldom)... Edward returns and tells Nan that if Montagu abandons him he will out her to Richard and cause a massive division between the brothers (militaristically speaking as well) and he knows he can do that because he figures out Nan will not out him because she blubbs about her promise to her niece. This madness then becomes bittersweet when (as history would have it) Montagu does end up fighting for Warwick, nevertheless, Nan is releaved during the whole time because there’s nothing in Warwick’s letters that give any indication that Edward ended up exposing her. Warwick dies in the battlefield, Nan is deeply aggrieved but happy he never found out at least. But then... years later when Edward comes to Beaulieu (1478 as this story would have it) to inform Nan that she may depart for Middleham, he tells her that he in fact did expose her to Warwick... but that Warwick didn’t believe him and laughed in his face because he thought there was no way she could be unfaithful because he knew she loved him. This sounds silly but it got to me a bit when I read it. Of course, we also have Edward saying he regretted his handling of the pre-contract affair because apparently Elizabeth Woodville had since lost interest in him and he’s hurt by how she shows no reaction to him having mistresses and he’s kinda given up, whereas Eleanor would have been more of a lapdog. This was essentially the centrepiece of the plot.

Look, I don’t really read these types of novels as a habit so I don’t know if bizarre plot lines like this are commonplace. Not going to lie though, it threw me and it was pleasantly enjoyable. This is basically what is to be said about the plot... the rest goes into characterisation. Nevertheless, this novel too often fell into the exposition trap (like telling us what is happening politically instead of showing us). While I appreciated the refresher of what happened 1445-1461 and I understand that the target audience of this book aren’t Wars of the Roses experts, I’ve seen it done more smoothly in many other more literary novels (eg Hawley Jarman’s or Lytton-Bulwer’s Last of the Barons). I’ve often said Sunne in Splendour was terribly dry and exposition-heavy, but at least it had historical detail so I could sometimes switch off and treat it as a non-fiction account for battles and character locations. But with this one I a) don’t have faith that the author paid attention to detail; see what I said earlier about the years 1473-1478, so I won’t take this as information and b) know that if she had done this with the years I know more about: 1461-1478, I would have gotten annoyed because of my familiarity with those decades.

Characterisation: Well we have lovelorn saintly Dickon here - always a pet peeve of mine. Look, I don’t have strong opinions about the man but it just innures me how whenever Richardianism rears it’s ugly head the plot suffers massively and it’s always favourite figures of mine that suffer the most. George Duke of Clarence... oh god, what can I say? Wife-beater, alcoholic, is disgusted by his wife when she is ill (you know, unlike the historical Clarence who had resided in the Abbot’s home near the infirmiary for the last months of his wife’s lying-in and after to be close to her and thereafter stuck with her until she passed away and two months after that as well), is stupid yet somehow still devious, is the indirect cause of her death... the list goes on. Welp, at least this Clarence unlike the Sunne in Splendour one has an elegant bearing, sense of fashion and is a great dancer. The Sunne one had NOTHING. It’s also odd that they make his attitude towards Isabel undergo a complete 180 as soon as he realises this marriage will no longer make him king. This makes no sense as the book has them want to marry for love, like YEARS before 1469, so this sudden attitude change makes no sense. Authors really need to be reminded that crown or no crown that marriage would still have made him the greatest magnate in England. There was also a ridiculous handling on the circumstance of his death, and this was the most factually wrong part of the book. Between Ankarette being aged down by 4 decades and the whole shmaz with Stillington, I don’t know where to begin. I bet most of you can guess how it was handled. Isabel is as per usual constantly depressed and without a personality because, well, we can’t have her compared to our shining heroine Anne Neville. 3x more beautiful, 5x more vivacious and 20x more significant than her doormat of a sister who complains all day- that is when she isn’t crying. Gahhh. Of course Anne Neville also cries but it’s for her beloved Dickon who she pines for constantly. Look, I have no qualms with romanticising this pairing, but authors need to keep in mind that Anne was like 13 at most when she became estranged from Gloucester. You. Need. To. Stop. Writing. Her. Like. A. Woman. . I don’t care what anyone says, no matter the time period, you can’t make me visualise a 13 year old that could feel romantic love of that deep a devotion and maturity and not send me laughing across the floor. But want to write a strong childish infatuation coming from a place of deep friendship? Fine by me.

Ok, onto more positive characterisation points: I liked Nan, quite a lot actually (I mean blatant daughter favouritism aside). A lot of authors attempt to write the proud noblewoman and great lady character but few pull it off. This is always how I have seen the real Anne Beauchamp and I’m glad to see it here. For a novel so insensitive towards certain figures, the author wrote Nan with great empathy. She was very intelligent but not in that artificial girlboss way, she loved her daughter(s) but in that medieval mother type of way (so no baby brain here), she may have not gotten along splendidly with all the women around her but there was none of that demeaning cattiness. About that, I want to say I was shocked by what a turn her relationship with Margaret of Anjou took. Since the whole Somerset-bastard child plotline was a thing... Nan was initially revolted and lost all her respect for Lancaster, but when the two women find themselves joined by fate they gain this strange mutual respect for one another. They butt heads a bit initially but Margaret of Anjou rises above it for her son’s sake and eventually strikes up an agreement with Nan on when they are to set sail. Margaret first won’t listen to Nan because she thinks she’s a fool but when she eventually slips by to tell Nan that she had thought about her plan and that maybe she’s right, she doesn’t apologise and Nan doesn’t need her to and it’s this weird telepathic understanding from then on and I certainly did not expect to see something like this in this novel. After the landing in England and news of Warwick’s death reaches the party, Margaret doesn’t gloat but diplomatically relays the news and when Nan says she wants to take sanctuary because she lost all heart and can’t fight on, Edward of Lancaster gently says something like: well if you come with us, you’ll at least get your revenge and that’s at least something (paraphrase). You could just tell this was Edward’s way of offering condolences, the type of way a child like him raised through war and promises of vengeance only could, and it was oddly powerful. Shame it couldn’t have happened as Nan and Margaret and Isabel all travelled at seperate times. The whole theme around Nan was that she wasn’t very partisan but only followed her husband as a magnate and then as a man, which I believe and it was great to see Team Lancaster understood Warwick was a seperate entity from York, and for all intents and purposes they were all in this together. Cool-headedness is much needed in this genre I realise, god how low flies the bar ~

Now onto the characterisation most people are wondering about. What of Warwick? He was the saving grace of the novel. He has the common touch yet he is sophisticated, he is idealistic yet he is shrewd, he is impassioned yet collected, he is dramatic yet subtle, he is ... I can go on and on. What is all the affair plot point about then? It doesn’t diminish the bond between the two main characters; to tell you quite truthfully the relationship the author wrote was bizarre yet still really touching. They used to hate eachother because Nan thought herself above him (after all the Warwick earldom was far more valuable than the Salisbury one- remember it was briefly a dukedom at one point), but then she sees what he made of himself and becomes proud of him and falls in love with him. However, he starts to get carried away with his ambitions, gets all-consumed by the legend of Warwick that he had cultivated and essentially becomes impersonal without wanting to (and realising). Nan feels she has lost him to the people of England (which are apparently all hypnotised by his presence, which ok is a fact grounded in history) and because of her wounded pride she starts seeking comfort in his brother (although, it makes little sense how this would work as I would gather he would also be away, especially at the Scottish boarders). When he refuses to support Warwick over Edward later on, she loses all feelings for Montagu and thinks him a coward, and when Warwick apologises for being amiss she realises that this whole time it was him she loved all along and is racked with guilt. I found this exploration of what it is like being wed to a man of such public standing quite interesting, the idea of losing him not to another woman or such but to his cause (which in this book is a mixture of belief in the french alliance, the common weal and subconsciously his own wounded pride brought on by an extreme adherence to inflexible chivalric values on his part and Edward IV’s actions), I confess, is not something I saw portrayed in this particular manner anywhere else. I mean it’s not like I’ve been searching for this particular motif, but this was a refreshing depiction of a medieval couple and it was a poignantly written relationship which the author had me invested in. The relationship was heartfelt because it was very distinct, Nan and Warwick weren’t just some stand-ins for a cash-grab but some consideration was paid to the real historical figures. The John plotline, sure I would in principle protest against something like this but it seems to have had two plot purposes: To illustrate the strain caused by the aforementioned issue and to kick off the whole Edward-Eleanor Butler-Montagu-Nan arc, which bizarre and unbelievable as it was, kept me on my toes. I’ll let it slide. Also, Edward IV was portrayed as quite a chilling villain in this, beholden of this weird mix of indifference, charm and wickedness.

Prose: This is what made me briefly wonder if this book was written by two different people. It failed to engage me in the first half, the descriptions were trite (except for the natural scenery bits), there was very little variety in sentence structures which gave it the stilted heaviness that thus afflicted The Sunne in Splendour (and most modern literature). There was a lot of redundancies eg the type of stuff like ‘whispered quietly’ or ‘yelled loudly’ and the author’s misunderstanding of certain period fashions drew me out eg references to bodices (not a thing then), calling the henin veil a silk scarf etc. She didn’t pull a Penman: exposit emotions to us, making me feel like I walked into a therapy session, but it was often heavy-handed. It first felt very much like an uninspired debut novel. A bit try-hard and I was wondering if this was the way of the bodice ripper... I wouldn’t know, I never read one before (though I’m unsure if this qualifies as it’s really not graphic and the focus is really not on sex nor is there much of it).

However, out of nowhere, the prose suddenly changed a little before half of the way in; colours, emotions, thoughts and the like started to blend masterfully. The sentence structures started varying to convey the way Nan was feeling. It became very show don’t tell, and it drew me in emotionally a bit (I must confess). Of course, that’s also around the point the plot had sort of started redeeming itself. Nan’s grief at her husband’s passing was particularly well conveyed - how she became a husk of her former self... I could read fifty pages of that. Her realisation that it had been him all along was also well written, and you could feel all the urgency and regret she felt at all the time she had wasted disregarding him as the plot grew nearer to Barnet. The mutual longing was also subtle yet strong, and it really was down to the effective use of sentence structure and waylaying of inspired thematic details. The mingling of past memories with present day in her later years was also very well done and with flow, and the adjectives etc used were no longer becoming distracting as before. My favourite part by far was the very last scene when she rides ahead of her escort to Middleham and she imagines a horse riding beside her caparisoned with the Neville standard; you can really feel how this is the first time that she had felt joy in years and she lets the ghost follow her.

... In Conclusion, this novel gave me very mixed feelings. I don’t know if I would have enjoyed it as much as I did had it not been for the fact that I entered it with a massive pre-formed love for the figures. It’s a bit like my experience with ‘Death Be Pardoner to Me’ (review #2 on this tag), was the book actually good or do I just have an affinity for the protagonist (Clarence in that case)? As such, I don’t think I would reccomend it. Indeed I wrote this spoilerish review because I was sure no one would fly off to Amazon after seeing this post. I can’t say if it’s above commercial historical romance in standard as this is the first time I’ve ever read a book from this genre. I think I’ll take a loongg break from historical fiction (after I finish with Jarman) because the Clarence portrayal was a bit of a nail in the coffin for me and I don’t want to continue upsetting myself for no reason. As I have now truly lost hope in reading a balanced depiction of him and if the literature isn’t absolutely expemplary why bother? Nevertheless, Warwick’s portrayal was a saving grace and made it impossible for me to give it two stars - it wasn’t perfect but still the best I’ve read (minus Last of the Barons Ofc). This is also a bit sad when you think about it, Warwick is also due some fictional justice. Even scholarly if you ask me.

The experience was educational as I learned a valuable lesson in what to avoid and include in my writing, what pitfalls/clichés not to fall into etc. I think I can draw another valuable lesson from this: Dear Histfic authors, if you happen to not be historians, heavily-researched in this time period, objective or literarily talented etc don’t take yourself seriously by publishing some tome of a work but just go nuts like this novel. At least this way you’re not sharing misinformation, inducing people into error and your work still gets to be engaging as opposed to a repetition of the previous amateur historical novelist. Yeah. For all the Sunne in Splendour’s superior quality, I must say I prefer this one better.

Tagging @pythionice who I have recently discovered has also read this book! Welcome fellow fan of Warwick <3

[thelovelylolly]

Savior (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary : You and Obi-Wan started a secret relationship after your first interaction in your penthouse. You two flew between your planet and Coruscaunt to visit each other. But as the war picks up, you and Obi-Wan start to drift apart until one day everything went downhill. The jedi were killed and so you assumed Obi-Wan was dead, grieving him privately. But when the Empire plans on blowing your planet to shreds, you are sent away. What happens when you crash land on Tatoonie?

Warnings : Very lightly mentioned adult themes, typical star wars violence and (sadly) death, angst (?), and kind of a happy ending

Note : Thank you to @lilbabyhoneypot​ for the story idea! Hopefully this is a good ending! Sorry if this isn’t what you expected.

Your relationship with Obi-Wan was so amazing, but it had to be a secret. At first, it was hard to keep up making excuses to travel to Coruscaunt for your father but once he retired and gave the throne to you, it was easier. Of course, you requested Obi-Wan and his apprentice to attend your coronation. You and Obi-Wan “celebrated” later that evening.

You allowed him to continue to call you ‘princess’ since you were obsessed with him calling you that. Obi-Wan didn’t mind at all. You spent a lot of your time in Coruscant, for Obi and for political reasons, so after a long day, Obi-Wan would walk into your penthouse and collapse onto the couch. He would call you over and you almost always had tea ready to go. It was just a peaceful, quiet relationship.

But all good things must change.

Obi-Wan was always hopping planet to planet, fighting battles with his clone squadron. You sent him short holo-videos of yourself to cheer him up, which he treasured. He sent you videos as well, but they were short and inconsistent. You didn’t mind, but you missed him so much. 

Obi-Wan was currently on Utapau, hopefully defeating General Grevious and getting very very close to ending the war. You were excited because after the war, you could relax a bit. Get a break from all the politics. The only thing that bothered you was when Obi-Wan left. Usually, he would spend the night before with you, doing whatever you wanted. In the morning, you two would eat breakfast together with tea (of course) then he was off on his mission. But this time, he just sent you a message when he was on his was to Utapau. It was eating at you, was he trying to distance himself from you? Did he start to lose feelings?

Standing on your balcony, you took a breath of crisp Coruscant air to try to clear your mind. It was night time, which meant lights were on everywhere. Your eyes were watching speeders zoom by below you when something unusual caught you eye. You shifted your gaze to the jedi temple and saw smoke escaping it. In a panic, you quickly grabbed your red cloak and raced down to your speeder in the garage, speeding off to the temple.

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You parked your speeder on a small dock, getting out to walk into the temple. But you were stopped by clones. “What’s going on? What happened?” You asked.

“The jedi have been declared enemies of the republic, you need to leave, ma’am.” One clone explained. Suddenly, a young padawan jumped over them and started to deflect the blaster shots with his lightsaber. You watched in horror as the padawan got shot in the abdomen multiple times. 

“No!” You exclaimed, crouching down and pulling the dying child into your lap. You watched as life slowly escaped the padawan, his eyes staying open as his took his last breath. You sighed sadly and closed his eyes, laying him down gently. You stood back up. “What have you done?! He was a child! Where are the other padawans?” You yelled.

“General Skywalker took care of them.”

“Anakin....what? No...”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” The clone paused for a moment to aim his blaster at you, along with the others. “It’s time for you to leave.”

You nodded and quickly went back into your speeder, taking off. 

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You had called Bail Organa to your penthouse since he also went to the jedi temple. You sat on your couch, you mind going into dark territory since you thought Obi-Wan was dead. “Bail, we need to get the senate to stop this.” You spoke up.

“No, we need to find any surviving Jedi to see what they want to do. I think the Chancellor ordered this to happen.” Senator Organa replied, sitting down next to you.

“I don’t think any survived.”

“Were you close to any of them? I noticed you always requested Obi-Wan to be your jedi guard.”

“Promise not to tell?” Bail nodded in reply. “Me and Obi-Wan have a secret relationship, but with the clones turning on the jedi, I don’t think he survived. His own apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, killed younglings at the jedi temple.”

It went silent, the only noise being the busy city outside. “Return to your planet, I’ll do what I can here. You need to be there in case someone or something wants to attack.” Bail said, breaking the silent.

You both stood up, embracing each other, then Bail left. You began to pack up your things. Before you left, you wrote a quick note in case Obi-Wan did survive and came looking for you. Then you boarded your usual ship and went home to your planet.

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Years passed and the Empire rose to power. Bail Organa didn’t contact you, but the sith lord Darth Vader did. He forced you to put your planet under imperial rule, which basically meant you were just a puppet for Vader. You were sick of it. 

You laid awake in your large bed at night, moon light slipping in through a window. You stared at your ceiling, your covers feeling cold. You were haunted by things. Obi-Wan being presumed dead, that padawan dying in your arms, watching the temple burn and hearing of the Empire rising. Your bed felt empty without Obi-Wan next to you, but you didn’t know what else you could do except try to move on and serve your planet. You father had passed due to age which left you alone. Alone in a galaxy that seemingly hated you.

The next day, Darth Vader himself decided to visit the planet. Usually, it was a high ranking imperial but this time, Vader wanted to come. You were dressed in one of your usual extravagant dresses, your crowing sitting on your head. You kept your chin up, you weren’t intimidated by a sith lord. “Darth Vader, what brings you to my planet?”

“I came to check in on things, some of my men have heard of protests against the Empire here.” Vader replied.

You crossed your legs and leaned back. “I haven’t heard of such things, I’m sure my people are obedient to me, their ruler.” 

“Must I remind you that the Empire rules this planet.”

“I’m not useless, Vader. It’s my planet, the throne is my birth right, you can’t change that.”

“I suggest you don’t speak like that. I know how you used to act in the senate, Obi-Wan used to support it, didn’t he?”

You shot up from your throne from the name of your old lover. “You shall not speak of Obi-Wan to me. Leave. Now.” You ordered. Darth Vader simply turned around and started to walk out, but stopped to talk to a imperial that was apart of your council on your planet.

“Ready the Death Star. We will destroy the planet tomorrow.” And with that, Lord Vader left. You looked beside you at your advisors, confused.

That night, you met with your council (minus any imperials) to discuss how to avoid people’s death. They decided that you would leave first, then they would start evacuations of everyone else. You were to pack that night then depart at first light. So that’s what you did.

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You and a few other higher ups boarded a ship and were to be flown to a different planet that wasn’t on the Empire’s radar. It was supposed to be a easy and safe trip. Key words : supposed to be.

You were flying over a sandy planet when imperial tie fighters began to shoot at your ship. “We’re going to have to crash land, your majesty!” The captain yelled. 

You were shoved into a safe room while everyone else braced for impact. The safe room was essentially a escape pod in case the ship crashed, which was going to happen. But due to the impact, you blacked out.

When you woke up, you slipped out of the little pod to be met with so much sand and sun. You looked around for anyone else but saw the ship covered in black smoke. You couldn’t bring yourself to go look for anyone, you already lost so much. You didn’t know how long you were out but you decided to start walking. To where, you didn’t know, you just needed to make some sort of progress. You flipped up your brown cloak’s hood and started to walk in the hot sand.

It had to be hours since you started walking and you saw nothing. It was hard to walk since you were in a simple dress. You felt like someone was watching you while you walked by a small group of mountains, but you couldn’t bother to investigate. The heat was overbearing and you felt dehydrated, your steps became slower and you felt like your feet were on fire. You couldn’t keep going so you just let you body take the wheel. Your body hit the sand as your vision blurred. You slowly closed your eyes, accepting the worse.

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You opened your eyes but you weren’t in the desert anymore. You were in a sandy little house, on someone’s bed. Your head hurt, causing you to groan and close your eyes again. You heard someone walk in and over to you. “I brought you something to drink, hopefully it’ll help.” A voice said, helping you sit up and drink a cool liquid, most likely water.

You easily drank the entire cup. “You are lucky you fell where you did, anywhere else you sand people would probably take you. What are you doing out in the desert, princess?”

Princess.

Your eyes shot open and there in front of you was Obi-Wan, well and alive. His hair and beard had grown a little bit with a few bits of white mixed in. His eyes were just as gentle as the last time you saw them. You quickly pulled Obi-Wan in for a hug, which he gladly returned. You two held each tight and close. 

“Obi, I missed you so much. I thought you were dead. Bail Organa didn’t contact me after the jedi temple was burnt down and I left. I-” Obi-Wan cut you off by kissing you. It was sweet and deep and passionate. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, but after a few moments you two had to separate for air.

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing on Tatoonie, princess?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The Empire destroyed my planet, or at least planed to. My council decided it was best if me and a few other higher ups escaped. But we were shot down and crashed down here, I was the only one who survived. Why didn’t you contact me?” 

“Because the empire would come looking for me. Padme gave birth to twin’s so be and Senator Organa each took one into hiding from Anakin. I gave his son to the Lars who live not too far away. But Anakin turned to the dark side and was the reason all of this happened.” 

“Wait what? I thought Anakin died. Darth Vader told me that when I asked about him.”

“Oh dear, Anakin became Darth Vader. I- I watched him burn on Mustafar. It scars me to this day.” Obi-Wan sounded like he was on the verge of crying. “I thought- I thought I lost you in the chaos. Bail told me you were sent back to your planet but we didn’t know if you were safe. I’ve been so alone for so long.”

You cupped Obi-Wan’s cheek in your hand. “Obi, I’m so sorry. It looks like I don’t have anywhere else to go, maybe now we could continue our relationship now. I love you so much, I don’t want you to feel alone.” 

Obi-Wan gave you another kiss then a hug. “Thank you.” He said, muffled by him putting his face in the crook of your neck. 

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After that, you and Obi started to a have a peaceful life. You and him were able to openly have a relationship, even though there wasn’t anyone to show off to. Sure, both of you had those nights where you had nightmares or stayed up crying, but you had each other now. Sometimes it would lead to you falling asleep in each others arms, other times it would lead to other things. Even with the empire ruling the galaxy, as long as you had Obi-Wan, you would be fine.

“Hey, Obi?”

“Yes?”

“You do know I love you, right?”

“Yes, I do. I love you, too, princess.”

[boyy-wonder-grayson]

Winter's Weather // Dick Grayson Au!

Previous chapters: 1  2

Chapter 3

Warnings: nothing, kinda sad, mentios of sexual themes kidna.

A/u:Hey guys i’m kinda back, sorry i left this series alone i just didn’t have much inspiration to wirte for this, and i dind’t want to write something shitty just for the sake of writing, so hopefully you’ll enjoy this new chapter! thanks for following me and the series and i appreciate you caring for my writing. sorry for mistakes, and thanks again!

It’s been a month already since she arrived at Mystic, and it’s been one week since she last saw Dick. The first week went by quickly; Y/n had been so caught up with taking care of the cabin that she didn’t realize how much she had been inside the house. The weather was getting increasingly colder as the days passed, and the colder it got the feeling of loneliness started to creep inside of her. The first few weeks went somehow okay; the nostalgic feeling of being inside the house that held so many memories from her father was ever present in every waking hour, but the more time she kept herself preoccupied, the better she got at handling it. It was the nights that always got to her. 

Y/n was someone who enjoys being alone; she liked to be able to enjoy quiet nights, with a glass of wine and a good movie. She enjoyed being alone, what she didn’t enjoy was the feeling of loneliness. It’s been a few months since she broke up with her former boyfriend, and she was fine with being alone once again, but on quiet nights she missed the warmth of being in someone else’s embrace. And much to her chagrin, her mind took her to the only man that made her feel a resemblance of warmth, since she arrived at Connecticut. 

Dick.

It was strange of her to feel something so soon for something she didn’t really know. Dick was a mystery, that much she knew. It was an understatement to say he was an attractive guy, everyone with eyes could see that, but his eyes held something that drew her in. It was ironic how much of a lifetime movie her life had become since she came to town. Meeting a mysterious man; the random encounters they had around town, but as much as a cliche that was, she liked it. She chuckled, thinking about the few times they’d run into each other during her first month. More often than not, they found themselves standing in the cereal aisle fighting. It was a routine at this point for them. One that both waited to happen sooner than later.

That’s why she realised she hadn’t seen Dick since last week. She went grocery shopping on Tuesday and he wasn’t there,nor any other store for that matter. She hasn’t realized how comfortable she has become with him until he wasn’t there. She wondered, if something happened to him, if he was okay. She didn’t want to stay inside and wallow into her own self pity - she also didn’t want to stay in and think about dick because that might lead to some unholy activities - so she got dressed in some warm clothes, turned on her car and made her way towards the nearest bar. 

The Hood.

The Hood had seen some of the best and the worst nights of Y/n. She was not proud to say that the first time she got drunk, it was there and let’s say it did not end pretty. The moment she set a foot inside the bar, all the memories smack her in the face, some making her cringe at some, and smile fondly. The owner, Slade, a war veteran who had lost an eye in battle was the friendliest bartender you could ever meet. He was quick to shut down any creep that got too handsy with people around the bar, and he was one of the most respected men around town. For y/n, was like an uncle. He and her father were fishing buddies back in the day, and so grew around the man, and knew how much of a softie he was underneath that eye patch. 

“Uncle Slade!” She cheered once he spotted him across the counter. The man’s ears perked up at the familiar voice and when his eyes -eye- found the source a smile made its way into his face. 

“Y/n? Is that you!? My, my you’ve grown kiddo” he said moving around the counter to engulf his niece in a warm hug. 

“Oh, i’ve missed you!” she said, separating herself from the man. “I see you’re doing pretty well” the girl gestured at the almost filled bar. 

“It’s okay,” he said, looking fondly at the girl whom he considered a daughter. “How have you been?” He asked delicately. The girl sighed knowing where the conversation was going; after all they were almost brothers.

“I’m okay, been back here after so many years, it’s been… rough, but I like it. I always did love this town.”

“Wel, I’m glad you’re back. Adelaine is going to be happy to see you again” he said. Adelaine was one of the sweetest woman in town. Being married to someone like Slade wasn’t easy Y/n used to think -still does- but adelaine made it work. They had a son, Jericho, who loved to hang out with Y/n when they were younger.

“Is she here?” She asked excitedly. 

“Not today, she usually helps me on Fridays and Saturdays. But we definitely need to have you over the house one of these now that you’re staying in town” Slade said with a smile.

“I’d love to! I miss you guys a lot.”

“Well, I assume you didn’t come here just to chat, so what can I get you kid?“ 

“House special” she replied with a smirk.

Slade laughed before replying: “one Red Hood coming.”

Red Hood was the drink that gave the bar the name after all –minus the red of course–. It basically consisted of a Jolly rancher which was green apple vodka, some peach schnapps and cranberry juice, with a little orange slice rearranged to make it look like it was covering the top of the glass, you know like a hood. It was Y/n’s favourite drink. 

She sat on a table not too far from the counter and grabbed her phone. She had a few emails regarding work, that she was not going to open today, and a few texts from her sister. She opened the conversation, just when Slade placed the drink on the table. She thanked him, and took a sip from the glass, tasting the fruity drink and snapped a selfie to send to her sister with the caption ‘getting drunk tonight on red hoods. Xo.‘ 

She sighed after drinking some more, remembering all those days she used to come to the same place every other weekend, to drown her sorrows in alcohol and greasy food. It seemed that not much has changed.

“I didn’t peg you for the drinking type” a gruff voice said. Standing in front of her was none other than the man that had plagued her thoughts the past few days. Dick Grayson.

“Fancy seeing you here Dick” she said in a mocking tone. She hid her smile behind the glass checking him out, not too subtlety. That didn’t go unnoticed by Dick. He smirked as he took a seat on the table making the girl raise a brow.

“Don’t remember inviting you to sit down here"  

"I don’t see you objecting about it either” he replied.

“Touche.”

“So, what brings you here Grayson?” She tried to sound nonchalant but her voice was laced with worry? Dick shook those thoughts away, and cleared his throat.

“The alcohol” he replied, making her chuckle.

“Cheers” she lifted her glass in the air, nodding her head at the same time.

They stayed silent for a while. Enjoying each other’s company. The silence was surprisingly not awkward at all. This gave y/n time to really look at him. He looked tired, but handsome as usual. There were bags under his eyes, and his hair was a little too long. Y/n that he looked incredibly hot. The shirt under the leather jacket had two buttons opened, leaving his chest a litte exposed, and maybe it’s been too long since the last time she had sex, or maybe Dick was natural just hot, but that little window that show his tanned skin made her feel all sort of things. His Adam apple bobbed up and down whenever he took a sip, and god she needed to get laid now or go home and take care of it on her own. 

Before her imagination got truly wild, Dick spoke:

“Why are you here?" 

The question took her by surprise, not quite understanding why did he ask that.

"What do you mean?” She said, confusion all over her face.

“I mean, why are you here. In Mystic. Is not really people’s first choice for moving in” he said taking a sip from his beer.

“I came here to my dad’s cabin. It’s been a while since I came and I needed to see the state of the house before deciding what to do with it” she replied avoiding eye contact.

“That’s not what I asked." 

"That’s exactly what you asked,” she said, looking down at the empty glass in front of her.

“What’s the real reason?” Dick pressed. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to talk about it with her, but he was intrigued by her. She was the only person in town that made him want to leave the house so he could casually run into her. Not that he would say that to her,of course.

Y/n sighed, knowing that sooner or later she was going to be confronted by someone about her real reasons, but maybe speaking with someone who doesn’t really know her would save her from the judgment.

“I did come here because of the cabin,but I also needed time to think I guess. To breathe” she began “I broke up with my boyfriend a couple months ago, and I guess I needed a break from it all,you know? Is not that I’m doing this because of him, but also my mother kept on pressuring me about getting older and finding a husband, and getting married and I just don’t think I want that. Not now at least. And I just couldn’t handle it anymore, and this was a good chance, maybe to start over, to chance, but now I just… don’t know” she said sighing not looking at Dick.

“I came here five years ago, for the exact same reasons as you,” he said,surprising the girl.

“And?" 

"And… nothing changed” he admitted looking down at his now empty beer bottle. “I came here five years ago, wanting to do something about my life and I did nothing. If anything I became more reclusive.”

Y/n knew that even though dick and her were not exactly friends, and did not know each other at all, she thought that maybe he felt the same. Telling the story of your life to a stranger can be comforting in a way; like she said saving yourself from the judgment from your family. She knew that asking dick a question might end in either him answering truthfully or maybe he’d shut himself off even more than before, but since she was kind enough to tell her own story she hoped for Dick to do the same. So she asked:

“Why did you come here?" 

Dick huffed and ran a hand through his long hair. He didn’t like talking about this topic with anyone. Not his family,not his friends, so why was he about to pour his feelings out for some girl he barely knew? He did not know the answer to that yet, but the warm smile on her face, and her kind eyes gave her a weird sensation in his stomach. Maybe he was starved for connection with someone other than his family,maybe he liked her enough to trust her. 

Maybe.

"Before I came here I was supposed to get married with my back then fiancee, Dawn; I was the happiest guy in the world. I had a good family, friends and someone I trusted with my life. But a few days before my birthday I found out she cheated on me with my friend Hank.” He stopped to look at her, waiting for the same look everyone gave him when they heard that story. But her eyes were soft, a sweet, comforting smile was waiting for him, rather than pity. Dick somehow understood the look she was sporting. She understood because she had 

been there herself. Dick sighed loudly, releasing all the tension and stress that he had been carrying for years. Being in her presence was like a breath of fresh air for someone whose head had been surrounded by smoke and each time got harder to breath. 

It wasn’t until she came to the town that Dick allowed himself to breathe the air that the city provided him with.

[hydrasweapon]

@weaponizedembrace gets the longest starter in history for our thing

            Howard doesn’t find Steve. Even after days, after months, he doesn’t find Steve. He keeps on searching, though – maybe because he cannot stand Bucky’s face whenever he comes back empty-handed. In the meantime, Bucky’s injuries heal up. Way quicker than should be possible, he’s as fresh as a daisy – minus the arm, of course. They want to send him home. He tells them very sincerely fuck you and that’s it. He guesses it’s also Carter’s and maybe Colonel Phillips doing that they leave him alone, but he doesn’t care. To be honest, Bucky doesn’t care about a lot of things anymore. VE-day comes and goes and he toasts with the other Howlies but then he walks back to the barracks, surrounded by screaming, partying people, and he feels nothing. The war in Europe is over and he has never felt more lost, not even in the trenches with shells detonating right next to him. 

          He reads about the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and wonders what Steve would have said to that. Then he has to put the newspaper away because it feels like his heart is going to give up on him. He gets a lot of letters from his family but doesn’t know how to respond, so he only puts them in his duffel or sometimes in the pocket of his jacket and feels bad for never finding the right words. 

           In late August, Carter tells him that she’s going to go to New York City to continue the SSR’s work and also that there’s going to be an official state funeral for Steve in Arlington. Nobody, not even a super-soldier, could survive months without food or shelter in the icy, windswept wasteland of the Arctic. Bucky listens and doesn’t answer but he turns up the day Carter and Stark leave for the States in Stark’s private plane. 

          The ceremony is pompous. The Arlington National Cemetery is bursting at the seams because every politician wants to say goodbye to a hero and hopefully get some good publicity while doing that. Bucky has to puke three times behind a tree before he is able to walk up to President Truman to get his own Purple Heart medal and receive Steve’s Medal of Honor because there is no other family member left to take it for him. They even conjured a fucking statue up out of nothing. They want to take photos in front of that statue. Bucky is glad his stomach is already empty or he would have puked on the shoes of the President himself and wouldn’t that be something to put on the front page. 

          He doesn’t stay longer than it takes to get the medals, do some hand-shaking and take some pictures. There is a speech. The President said some words, too, but the real speech is by Colonel Phillips himself and Bucky can’t listen to that, he just can’t. They will think he’s rude but he’s pretty certain Phillips understands. He leaves the cemetery and promises himself to never come back to this place.

          Bucky takes the train up to New York. After half an hour, he feigns to be asleep because people keep thanking him for his service and welcoming him home and it makes his already empty stomach roil again. His parents and Becca are waiting for him at the train station. It’s when Winifred Barnes wraps her son up in her arms, that something breaks inside him. Bucky takes a deep, shuddering breath, and now the tears, finally, come. They stream down his face, soak his mother’s blouse, and he cannot get enough air into his lungs, everything is hurting, the pain squeezes his chest, his insides, his heart, and he falls to his knees and Winifred sits down next to him on the cold, hard ground, and just keeps him close and rocks him back and forth like a child, but he will always be her child, won’t he? No matter what.

          Bucky doesn’t manage to get a grip on himself for half an hour. All the time, his mother’s tight embrace doesn’t waver; Becca shields his vulnerable left side and his father’s hand is heavy and protecting on his shoulder. George Barnes glares at every passenger even thinking of making a stupid remark concerning this scene on a public station platform. 

            Then, somehow, Bucky manages to stop crying, or maybe he is just – empty. His father bundles his family up in the car and they drive through Manhattan and back to Brookly, home. Bucky is too tired and exhausted and falls asleep with his head on his sister’s shoulder. He doesn’t even notice when George picks him up carefully and carries him inside as he used to do back when he was a young boy and drifted off listening to the wireless in the evening. His and Becca’s child room changed into Winifred’s sewing room years ago but there’s still his old bed and when his father puts him down there and covers him with a warm quilt, he curls up and sleeps for hours.

            During the next couple of weeks, neither Bucky nor his family knows how to treat each other. Winifred bakes a lot, George urges Bucky to play cards with him in the evenings. Becca comes over whenever she can. Bucky visits his grandparents' grave; they had died while he'd been overseas. Apart from that, he doesn't really leave the house: There are always people on the street he knows. They welcome him back and either tell him how sorry they are for his loss or ask where Steve is (if they didn't put 2 and 2 together yet).

            He stays in his family home and stares out of the window and lets his mother put some meat on his bones and wonders what on earth he is supposed to do now, without his best friend and without a left arm besides.

            It’s shortly after Christmas (a rather silent affair) that Margaret Carter knocks on his door and kind of bullies him into joining the SSR once more. She knows all the perfect words for him to agree -- that Steve wouldn’t want him to spend the rest of his life this way, that he cannot live off his parents forever, that he is still a useful member of society. He agrees just to get her out of his room because she makes him feel scraped raw. Shortly after New Year’s Day, Bucky starts to work for the New York office of the SSR.

            The years pass. They are -- mostly a dull succession of days. His sister marries in 1949, a guy called William Proctor, who works for a shipping company and never saw the European Theater due to really bad eyesight. Dancing with Rebecca on her wedding day is one of the few memories Bucky will cherish for the rest of his life. She is so happy. 

           Unfortunately, being a married woman seems to mean that she absolutely has to marry her brother off, too. She introduces him to friends at least once a month and invites him over for dinner with -- what a coincidence! -- single ladies all the time. She also makes him visit the dance halls with her every other week. He doesn’t mind the last one -- it’s really nice to watch all the couples dance, learn this new Boogie Woogie thing. He is not interested in the gals, though. He simply cannot bring himself to think of love again.

            He's no longer working for the SSR but for an agency Carter, Stark, and Phillips formed of its remnants: the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. The acronym makes Bucky want to both puke and cry. It doesn’t change much, workwise, though.

            1954 is a big year. He attends the weddings of Dum Dum Dugan and Jim Morita and it’s almost as if the Howling Commandos are back together. Even Falsworth comes to the States for the occasion, him and Gabe sharing pictures of chubby Montgomery Junior and little Steven. Gabe looks a little sheepish when he tells Bucky the name of his son and Bucky might be a little choked-up but he’s certain Steve would have loved this little, full-faced namesake. Only Dernier doesn’t make it.

            1954 is also the year Bucky has a vocal dispute with Peggy Carter and quits his job quite aggressively. But what else is he supposed to do when he’s down in former Camp Lehigh for a work thing and crosses paths with Arnim godfuckingdamn Zola? It’s only due to three coworkers that he cannot bash Zola’s face the moment he spots him in the corridor. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about Operation Paperclip. Carter’s words are like poison in his ears. He doubts she believes them, herself. But she has the greater good in mind and was probably overruled in Zola’s case. Bucky does not care. He will not work for an agency hiring this piece of dirty shit. He has nightmares for weeks, always seeing that grubby little face with its evil smirk in front of his eyes. 

            It’s complicated to find another job. Nobody wants to hire a cripple. Labor work is impossible for him, too. Shortly before Thanksgiving in 1954, Bucky notices for the first time that something is off. That he is -- wrong. When he asks for a job in a nearby factory, the boss asks him how he lost his arm. He doesn’t believe the war-story. “Look at you, you’re too young to have been in the war, son.”

            That evening, Bucky stares into the mirror. The guy is right: He looks like he came home from Europe yesterday. He looks like a guy in his mid-20s, not like a man going on 40. His younger sister looks older now. There’s not a single white hair. There are no wrinkles. He drinks a whole bottle of whisky and tells himself he’s having excellent genes. 

Shortly before Christmas, he gets a new job thanks to his brother-in-law and works as an accountant in the same shipping company as William Proctor.

            1958 is both a joyful and terrible year. Becca gives birth to her first child after years of trying to get pregnant. Little Emily Sarah is the cutest thing on earth and Bucky loves her with every fiber of his being. He tries to ignore the women gushing at him ‘being such a young, handsome father’ when he takes her out for walks. He turned 40 two months ago. He should not look like this.

            In late August, George Barnes dies. The doctor speaks of a heart attack. Bucky cries late at night, in his bed, when he doesn’t have to be the strong one anymore. He moves in with his mother again to support her -- so she can keep the apartment she lived in for nearly 45 years already, and so she has company and someone to watch over her. She, too, is getting older and frailer. Bucky could be her grandson, now, given his looks. When their old neighbor Mr. Lowenstein mentions this, Bucky cannot ignore it any longer. He calls Howard Stark.

            The passage of time manifested itself in a lot of wrinkles in Stark’s face. That’s how a man his age should look like. That’s what Bucky wants to see when he’s standing in front of a mirror. Stark looks taken aback at his sight, then explains in great detail that he’s an engineer and usually doesn’t do biological stuff but he draws a vial of blood either way and looks at it under a microscope and then tells him that he could be mistaken but the last and only time he ever saw cells like Bucky’s was shortly after they shot Steve up with Erskine’s serum.

            Bucky thinks of Zola and his countless injections and fire in his veins and pukes right across Stark’s workbench. Stark says there’s nothing he can do. That was Erskine’s area of expertise, not his. He really doubts Bucky is immortal but he will probably live to see his 150th birthday. Bucky could ask Zola, of course, Zola who’s working for S.H.I.E.L.D. now. But he’d rather cut his remaining arm off than ever seeing him again.

            He doesn’t tell his mother nor his sister. He tries to live on as if nothing happened but it’s hard. He notices now that he heals way quicker than the average human being. He gets bonuses because he never calls in sick for work. On a sleepless night, he walks through Brooklyn and over to Manhattan and back to the docks for work and doesn’t feel tired at all. He’s----he’s like Steve now. Or rather, was since that factory in Kreischberg. He just chose to never notice.

            He sees his mother age and little Emily Sarah grow up and his own face doesn’t change at all. Sometimes he wonders if everyone he knows is going to die and he will end up alone in this world. It’s a terrifying thought. More often than not he finds himself standing on the docks after work, staring into the muddy water. Steve is down there, too. A cold, dark grave. He wouldn’t want Bucky to off himself. He would be furious. That, and maybe whatever Zola did to his body would prevent him from dying, anyway. So Bucky thinks about it but never acts on it.

            In January 1961, Winifred Barnes dies. Bucky, confused he doesn’t find his mother in the kitchen as usual in the morning, goes to check on her. She looks like she’s still sleeping but her hands are cold. Bucky sits down next to her for three hours and cries and hides his face in her neck that still smells like her. It’s only when his brother-in-law pounds on the front door because he didn’t turn up for work that Bucky gets up and calls his sister.

            They bury their mother next to George Barnes. Bucky brings flowers every week.

            One year later, shortly before the assassination of Kennedy, Howard Stark pops up out of nowhere, looking mad and excited. He talks a lot of gibberish Bucky doesn’t understand, but he gets the gist either way. Howard invented the prototype of a mechanical prosthesis that will work like a normal arm made of flesh and bone does. It’s absolutely batshit crazy. The surgery needed to implant the sensors of the arm into one’s brain will probably kill the test subject. Bucky agrees, anyway. First of all, he doesn’t mind dying. Sooner rather than later (which means in over 100 fucking years). Secondly, having only one arm sucks. He has gotten used to it, over the years, but it’s still crap. And, in the end, if Stark manages to develop a working prosthesis far superior to what they got now, all the other poor cripples will benefit, too.

            Bucky doesn’t tell his sister because she would try to stop him. She’s mad as hell at him, though, and refuses to speak to him for one month when he comes back with a metal arm (because of course, he did not die). Emily Sarah thinks her uncle is absolutely amazing. 

The arm is better than any prosthesis he had so far. It’s not a real arm but he doubts anything will be like the real thing. He keeps it covered up whenever he goes outside. According to Stark, there’s nobody else who would survive such extensive surgery. He puts the blueprints away for later generations. ‘Now is just not the time’, he says.

            Then there’s another war. Bucky wonders why on earth the United States engage in whatever is happening in Vietnam. 20 years later and everyone seemed to have forgotten about Europe. They probably think now that there’s a wall dividing Germany and thus Eastern and Western countries, they have to do their bombing and shooting somewhere else. He’s getting more and more nightmares just reading the newspapers. Steve didn’t sacrifice his life so humans could fight on another continent. But nobody cares about Captain America anymore save perhaps for stupid comics and stupid movies and stupid biographies they want to interview Bucky for.

            His mood, never back to being cheery and humorous after the war, turns even darker. There are no more mirrors in his apartment. He’s sick of seeing his young face. He knows Becca and her husband noticed, too, but they don’t say anything. Some ghosts you just cannot explain. Some ghost you just cannot understand if you didn’t see them yourself.

            His only glimmer of hope is little Emily Sarah. He lets her dance on his feet. He lets her play with his metal arm. He picks her up from school if his job allows it. He tells her about a guy named Captain America he met in Europe who was really brave and heroic and saved them all. Those stories are her favorite. Unfortunately, she also notices the comics and thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that Captain America has a young friend whose name is also Bucky. Neither Bucky himself nor her parents tell her the truth.

            Then, on a rainy day in April 1966, Bucky gets the worst message imaginable. Car accident. Slippery road. No survivors. 

            He breaks down when he has to pick a coffin small enough for a child. 

            He lays them to rest next to his parents. Carter is there, too. She puts a huge bouquet of lilies in front of the headstones and squeezes his arm. Her cheeks are wet. Bucky doesn’t thank her, cannot open his mouth because he fears he wouldn’t be able to stop screaming. She knows, though.

            Bucky has to clear out his sister’s apartment the next day. When he stands in front of the big mirror in the main bedroom and sees his youthful face, chestnut hair, the skin free of wrinkles, he puts his fist through the glass. There’s a sharp-edged shard embedded in his wrist. He pulls it out and stares at the blood oozing out and then sits down and hopes. 

            Two hours later, the wound is scabbed over and the dizzy feeling has vanished. He takes the photos and other mementos and leaves the apartment.

            Stark does not seem surprised to find Bucky visiting his Estate in Los Angeles. ‘I tried to, you know,’ he tells him. ‘To reverse the effects of that serum. But I did not succeed. Maybe smarter minds in the future will be able to.’

            Bucky stares at him, feeling all the pain of the world settling on his shoulders. ‘I can’t wait that long. I can’t. Put a bullet through my head or reverse the effects, I don’t care.’

Stark is silent for a long time. Then he says: ‘Maybe there’s another option.’ And leads him down to the basement.

            The thing that looks like an iron maiden from the Dark Ages is supposed to freeze a person like you’d put a piece of steak into the freezer for eating it later. Little does Bucky know that Howard’s idea for it comes from Arnim Zola himself. Having received a terminal diagnosis, there is absolutely no idea too crazy for Zola to extend his lifespan or survive until more advanced medicine will save him. Stark toyed with the idea himself. What if he would get sick? What if he wants to go to a future where he isn’t limited by his own time and state of research? He doesn’t tell Bucky any of that. He only says: ‘It might kill you. It will kill every normal human, that’s for sure. If you don’t die, though, maybe scientists can help you in the future.’

            Bucky needs a week to take care of his belongings, money, and the apartment. He never felt more alive in the past 20 years than this week. He only keeps what reminds him of his family and Steve. It fits in two suitcases. He offers Stark all the money he’s got and the billionaire looks affronted. It’s probably only peanuts, for him. He takes it anyway, ‘to make investments. Gonna need money in the future, pal.’

            Then, on a Sunday evening, Bucky unscrews the metal arm, undresses, and steps inside the tank-like machine. The metal is cold under his bare feet. 

            ‘Do you really want to do that?’ Stark asks one last time. Bucky looks at him, all the tiredness of the world in his eyes. Then he closes his eyes. He doesn’t feel the cold at all.

[simastysims]

SIMASTY Season 1 Episode 3 “Brystle’s Choice”

Originally posted Dec 2018 on simasty.com 

Brystle at last made a friend in the Simmington mansion when she met and bonded with Burke’s estranged son Heathen for the first time. Across town millionaire playboy Seth Dolby arrived back from living the highlife in gambling city Lucky Palms. His amorous rendezvous with DolbyDoh stewardess Minus Manners was interrupted by his uncle Cyril Dolby who convinced him that heiress Fathom Simmington wanted to get back with him. Cyril knows that his nephew has always loved Fathom and his secret plan to get inside information on business rival Burke Simmington’s company is one step closer. WindenburgSimmington lawyer ,and good friend of Burke, Andre Wayward tried to convince Burke to have Brystle sign a prenuptial agreement prior to the wedding but Burke was having known of it. Andre also presented Burke with a dossier on Brystle which Burke refused to read. Andre secretly plans to get Brystle to sign the agreement with or without Burke’s approval. Fathom reunited with her brother Heathen and the siblings reminisced about their lives together and where their long absent mother could be…And on the eve of her wedding Brystle had a meeting with former flame, and current employee of WindenburgSimmington, Mayhew Drysdale. Mayhew declared that he was still in love with her but Brystle could not bring herself to say that she didn’t love him. Now in a state of confusion Brystle must make her choice before her wedding in a few short hours…And now read on for the next exciting chapter….

Burke Simmington was in the west wing drawing room of Siloli, his mansion and family home. Preparations for the wedding were well under way and the staff, led by major-domo Joseph Flanders, were seeing to it that the day would go by without a hitch. Mrs Bummerson was preparing a gargantuan banquet, Nannette Bobbins was organising the flowers and assisting Brystle with her dress. Joseph would be taking care of every other detail and orchestrating the rest of the help at Siloli. Now that the wedding was taken care of, Burke was spending some moments contemplating the mega deal that his company, WindenburgSimmington, had just completed with the government of Shang Simla for the South Simla Sea leases. This contract would allow Burke’s tankers to pass through the waters of Shang Simla but had come at multi-million Simoleon cost. There was a lot hinging on the success of this deal, one wrong move and it could be disastrous for the company…

Burke shuddered at the thought and poured himself a drink. As he was doing that he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching from behind. A scent of  sweet fragrant  men’s cologne filled the air. Burke knew it to be his son, Heathen.

Burke considered this for a moment. He didn’t want to be too hard on the boy. Yes he had made mistakes in the past but he had come here in an effort to reconcile. Burke softened a little and guided his son to the nearest couch.

Heathen sighed, this was not going well. It didn’t take much for his father to get so irate with him. Yes he had written a non too flattering biopic of his father a few years back but Heathen thought Burke would have forgiven, if not forgotten, him for that. It was the fallout from that character assassinating book that had resulted in Heathen departing Siloli mansion and making his own way in San Myshuno city.

A momentary silence passed between father and son before Burke spoke again.

Heathen had always suspected his father did not approve of his attraction to male Sims and this just proved it. O.k. there had been several men in and out of his life whilst living in the city but so what? Heathen was absolutely comfortable with who he was as a fabulous Sim and he would not allow himself to be hurt by his father anymore. Without shouting or getting angry Heathen spoke with gentle authority.

With that Heathen triumphantly left the room. At that moment Burke never felt so proud of his son as he did right now. No longer was he the meek and timid little boy he remembered but a strong, independent and fabulous adult.

Further down the corridor Andre Wayward had been just about to leave when he met Brystle as she arrived home form her meeting with Mayhew in the park. Andre decided to seize his chance about getting Brystle to sign the prenuptial and guided her quickly back into Burke’s study.

The money did not matter to Brystle, Burke surely knew that. So why was he getting his lawyer to force her to sign this prenup? Brystle shrugged her shoulders and signed the first screen. Andre smiled as she did this and he tapped with his well manicured fingernails each screen that came up with lines and lines of legal information. Brystle didn’t care at all. She came into Burke’s life with nothing and if she had to, she would leave with nothing too.

Fifteen minutes later they were done. Brystle gave Andre an icy stare before leaving the study and going upstairs.to her room. This had been one heck of a day.

Before dinner was served Brystle had had a change of clothes and was catching up on some alone time in one of the sitting rooms of Siloli. Her earlier meeting with Mayhew had made her realise that she was having conflicting thoughts about her feelings. She was torn between two men. One was Burke her fiancé and the love of her life. The other was Mayhew, her former lover with thighs that could crush walnuts. She always believed her feelings for Mayhew were through but seeing him again earlier in those tight shorts had gotten her all a quiver.

It was whilst having these salacious thoughts about the part of Mayhew’s body betwixt his hips and knees that Fathom strutted into the room with a smirk on her face. Brystle had been expecting this. Earlier that morning in the hallway Fathom had remarked she would be catching up with Brystle that evening. It looked like this was the time.

Fathom took the couch facing Brystle and regarded her the way a cat would a mouse.

Brystle rolled her eyes and shook her head. Fathom was being impossible as usual.

Fathom could see that Brystle was not going to listen but she continued on anyway. Her devil-may-care attitude gave her the courage in life to say things that she perhaps shouldn’t.

Fathom could see from the look on Brystle’s face that she was right. Andre had approached her to sign a prenup. She decided to move in for the kill…

There it was , murder! This was what Fathom had resorted to, claiming her father had murdered her mother and some of his other girlfriends and Brystle was furious. She knew it to be utter trash, a horror story in a last ditch attempt to frighten her off. Well Brystle was not having it and wasn’t going to hold back from telling Fathom so.

For once Fathom was lost for words. She hadn’t expected Brystle to bite back like that as normally she was too delicate and Fathom believed her to have no back bone. Would she tell her father? Fathom could not tell. Instead she gave a smirk and then left the room.

Brystle sat back and let out a sigh. Fathom was hard work but she felt she had won this battle, if not the war. Somehow she got the feeling that Fathom’s next attack would be stronger. Brystle didn’t have to wait long. Half an hour later as she was getting dressed in her evening attire for dinner Fathom barged into her room without knocking and round two commenced….

Brystle could not believe her ears! Fathom was actually prepared to buy her off. This cheap insult infuriated Brystle and she exploded in anger. Not literally of course but she had few choice words to say to her future step daughter.

By now both women were at boiling point and Fathom took a step forward jabbing her finger at her future step mother.

Brystle raised her hand as she prepared to slap Fathom across the face. She was so incensed with rage now. First she had been bribed to leave and now there were accusations that she was fake. But she took a deep breath and lowered her hand. She could not bring her self to hit Burke’s daughter despite feeling the overwhelming urge to do so. Instead she yelled at Fathom to leave.

Fathom took another step closer and with her face a snarl she hissed in Brystle’s face.

After Fathom left the bedroom, Brystle was overcome with emotion. She quickly crumpled into tears. Her sobbing filled the room and her crystal tears fell heavily to the floor.

A weary Mayhew Drysdale shut down his computer for the night and stretched his arms above his head. He had returned from his early evening rendezvous with Brystle and continued with some reports he had to write up in his role as business executive at WindenburgSimmington. Recently he had earned a huge promotion at the company, bypassing several rungs of the career ladder. Mayhew, whilst being a conscientious worker, found it incredible he had been promoted to such a high level.  But with the promotion came a tonne of more work leaving Mayhew exhausted most nights.

He left his study and checked in his sleeping daughter Mimsy. Mayhew smiled as he tucked her in for the night. She meant the world to him.

Mayhew quietly left the room and went through to the kitchen. It was late but he still felt the need for a coffee. As he was brewing it his mother, who had recently decided to move in with her son, joined him in the kitchen.

Mother Drysdale, as she liked to be called, was very protective of both her son and grand-daughter. That level of protectiveness however did not extend to her daughter-in-law. She felt Malaudia to be the wrong match for Mayhew from the very start of the marriage. Years later and after Malaudia’s multiple stays in a simitarium Mother Drysdale felt she had been right all along. The fatigue etched on her son’s face confirmed this.

Mayhew sat beside his mother at the kitchen island and sighed.

Mother Drysdale could see her son was no longer happy or in love with Malaudia. It was time to make her feelings known about the woman.

Mayhew pondered on this for a moment. Whilst he would never leave Malaudia to rot in the simitarium there was no denying that he no longer was in love with his wife. But what to do about it?

Mayhew bid his mother goodnight and went off to bed leaving the elder Sim alone with her wicked thoughts…

Burke, Brystle, Fathom and Heathen had gathered for dinner in the grand dining room of Siloli mansion. Both the Simmington siblings were in good form with Heathen laughing and joking while his sister had a mischievous glint in her eye. Brystle looked like her mind was elsewhere. Burke was happy to see everyone seated around the table for the first time.

Heathen sensed that Fathom was itching to pick on Brystle so he quickly moved to diplomatically ease the situation.

Fathom continued smirking and Heathen knew his sister was far from done. 

Burke could see his wife-to-be was visibly uncomfortable and therefore decided to reign his daughter in.  

Just then Joseph Flanders, the major-domo of Siloli, entered the dining-room and made his way over to Burke.

Joseph nodded and went to pour some of the finest nectar a Sim could by. As he passed Brystle, and being a snobby Sim, he couldn’t let an opportunity go by to subtlety test her lack of knowledge of the finer things in life.

Fathom was far from subtle though.

As Brystle made her exit Fathom seemed to delight in it.

And at this point Burke slammed his fist onto the table.

Burke got up and went after Brystle. Fathom merely shrugged her shoulders. Heathen couldn’t help but notice a sly smirk from Joseph to Fathom and he made a note of this. Outside Brystle hurried along the corridor as Burke came after her.

Brystle decided to be honest with Burke about her thoughts on Fathom.

But right now she was having serious doubts….

And so late that night as the household fell quiet, Brystle was alone in her bedroom. Burke was sleeping in a separate room as it was only proper to do so the night before the wedding. Brystle was about to go to bed when her phone rang. She recognised the number thought it wasn’t saved on her phone. It was Mayhew. She was in two minds as to whether to answer it or not but there was a voice inside her telling her she needed to hear Mayhew’s voice again. She pressed accept on the phone. At first the there was a bunch of static white noise coming through before a clicking noise and then at last she heard his voice.

It felt such a huge relief to finally admit that to Mayhew and the pair continued talking.

Unbeknownst to Brystle, there was a reason for the static noise and clicking she heard when she answered her phone. That reason was because there was someone listening in on her conversation from another room in the house…

[sinha-ri]

So for my theater class we needed to ‘create’ an oc to act out as, but i literally just used Oliver. SO here’s a questionnaire I had to fill out as if Oliver was answering these questions (minus two that ask how am I, personally, am different and similar to my character, Oliver)

So if anyone is interested in learnin more about Oliver, it’ll be down bellowwww. 

it’s pretty long tho cus its 30 questions so you can skip to any you really are interested in.

1.       Your full name

Oliver Artesia

2.       How you are called

My nickname is Ollie, however my title is Witch of Ather.

3.       Date of Birth/age

October 31st, 1990, making me 30.

4.       Place of Birth

Ather in the kingdom of Liana.

5.       What were the major events happening in your city, country and world when you were born?

When I was born, the economy was crashing and the pressure on mages and getting ‘big’ was great.

6.       Specific location of places lived

I’ve only ever lived in Ather and in a small village in the outskirts of Liana called Dandrif.

7.       Current location

A cottage in the woods of Dandrif.

8.       What is that environment like?

The woods themselves are very peaceful. I’ve learned the trails to berries, the river, and various natural grown herbs. The village itself is very welcoming but boring. Not much happens there nor here, it’s okay.

9.       Significant events in your life?

When I left to live on my own in the woods. It was a great choice to help myself grow. But a more important event was meeting my husband. It changed my life, I love him more than anything and he helps me grow. I’ve never had much befriends before he helped me to be more social.

10.   Significant events in the world?

A couple years ago, a major war ended that went on for 10 years. Our kingdom ‘won’ but the kingdom isn’t in any better shape. It only gained a few more land but the economy hasn’t been any better, neither has the King. Corrupt as ever he is these days.

11.   Name of and relationships to family members/significant others.

Remise Artesia, my wretched mother. Gavin Artesia, my Uncle who practically raised me. And Lily Artesia, my lovely husband. I never knew the rest of my family nor did I care.

12.   What are your personal/private feelings about those people?

I hate my mother and I hope she regrets what she did to be for the rest of her life, knowing I won’t forgive her. My uncle was the closest thing to a father figure. I still care for him, but we’ve lost contact. He was always sad so he wasn’t too present; he let me do my own thing. As for my husband, well I love him of course! We communicate very often about any issues and do many hobbies together. He’s all I could’ve ever asked for and a nice surprise.

13.   What would you change about those people if you could?

I wish my mother didn’t exist, but then I wouldn’t have. So I’d say I wish she wasn’t as pathetic. As for my Uncle it’ll be his depression, it makes him pathetic as well. He was such a great mage until he let himself get stuck in grief. About my husband..I’d say there is nothing. But really, I wish I could whisk away his problems, his nightmares that keep him up and prevent him from a good nights sleep.

14.   What do others say about you?

I know what they say: that I’m too harsh, I’m a monster. That’s the word of mages. But the people here in the village? A nice dependable fellow. After all, I provide them with my medicines.

15.   Choose ten adjectives which best describe you - think of only in terms of human qualities, but also in terms of animal qualities, taste, touch, look, smell. Think in the abstract as well as literal.

Honest, Powerful, Enlightened, Calculative, Dirt, Soft, Flabby, Prodigy, Radiant, Zealous

16.   Habits and opinions central to your character.

Well I am all powerful! I’m confident in my skills at magic and herbalism. Yet, I’m not the best at doing normal things I’ll admit. I’ve learned to cook very greatly! But baking is my weakness. I can’t make a fire without magic, doing out door activities is generally hard without my magic.

I hate the government and have a habit of evading taxes and anything law related, they really are just a pain. I tend to ignore all around me because it’s useless, worthless! It isn’t my problem. Well, it hardly was. But I’ve been learning to take in my surroundings.

17.   What is your daily life like-what are your daily habits/rituals, etc?

I wake up early in the morning to get ready for work. I kiss my husband on his head and prepare him the food of the day. I go off to the market to sell my homemade medicine. After a long day, I return home to prepare food again and relax with my husband. This happens for a couple months before it is growing season and my weeks off, where I focus on my herbs and my husband helps to tend on them. I always make the food and try to incorporate different foods every once in a while and help teach Lily. But I need to learn it first, so I’ve taken up new hobbies and recipes.

18.   What kind of food you eat? When do you eat? Are you religious? What do you do for recreation?

I eat all kinds of foods. My most favorites being stews and teas. I eat every morning, lunch, and dinner. I make all the food I cook but I never mind, it’s always fun. At times I would travel just to learn something new to cook.

I am not religious, it’s pointless. So what if a god exists? They won’t care what specifically happens to you nor would they do anything about it. It’s pointless.

What I do on my free days is hang out with my husband, read a nice book, tend to my herbs, pick berries, go on walks. There is nothing I don’t like to do in my free time.

19.   Who are your enemies and why are they enemies?

My enemies are most mages, as they all hate me for being a witch, and the government because I’ve avoided them at costs due to a war crime.

20.   How does your character view the world in relation to themselves?  (Put into a single sentence, ie. everyone is happier than I am, everyone is less interesting that I am.)

What happens to others isn’t my problem.

21.   How does your character dress?

I love to dress in collars shirts, capes, vests, and dresses. I tend to mix them up depending on what I’m doing, I have many outfits that it hardly remains boring.

22.   How does your character think of themselves physically?

I’m healthy. I know how curvy I am, but I only wish to be more fit when it comes to exercise. I’m averaged to say the least, but there isn’t anything I’d physically want to change myself. I’m essentially perfect!

23.   How does your character walk?

I walk with confidence! I stride and look directly at where I am going, I don’t move for others, they should move for me.

24.   What qualities do you have that are similar to the character?

The qualities I feel I’m most similar to with my character is being unfit and an over thinker.

25.   What qualities do you have that are different from the character?

Almost all of this character is different from me, from the confidence, to the hobbies, to the world and energy he has.

26.   Your greatest fears.

My greatest fear is to be weak and forgotten.

27.   Your fondest memories.

My most fond memory was…my most fondest memory has to be when I was proposed and when I married.

28.   I daydream about?

I daydream about what I’m going to do the day. What will I read? What will I cook? What will I do with my husband this time?

29.   The most secret thing about me is?

I wish to care for others, to have friends and understand them. But, I’m too afraid of being hurt.

30.   I am happiest when?

I am happiest when I get to eat at the dinner table with warm food by fresh ingredients, sitting across from my husband and talking about mundane things. It reminds me that I’m no longer alone.

[perpetuitys]

AAAA hello everyone i’m peep and this is my independent n impulsive vampire bb michel !! also sorry for being Mad late i’ve been moving/flying for the past couple days but i’m finally settled in and super super excited to rp with you all :~) but Yes this is michel he has an attachment to the sea ...... he’s curious abt everything ..... can be very sarcastic at times .... and more found below !! also def hit me up to plot on discord <3 @uwfmintro​

STATISTICS  

FULL NAME:  michel de la rue NICKNAME(S): michel’s fine AGE:  twenty-five GENDER + PRONOUNS:  cis male + he/him ORIENTATION:  bisexual ZODIAC:  sagittarius sun, libra moon BIRTHDAY: december 3rd, 1802 PLACE OF BIRTH: paris, france OCCUPATION(S):  bartender, helps with the liberation TRAITS: (+) open-minded, honest, adventurous, curious, independent  / (-) turbulent, careless, irresponsible, impulsive, dogmatic

BIOGRAPHY

the following biography page contains the following: death, grief, suicidal ideation.

read at your own risk.  

HUMAN

it was eleven years later and new york was just starting to feel like his home. michel still hated speaking english and the permanent odor was sort of annoying, but he felt like he had a purpose that wasn’t dependent on war. fatigued by the aftermath of the french revolution and disappointed in the end of napoleon’s reign, the de la rue’s left their mother country when michel was fourteen in hopes of creating something new and fresh, devoid of any monarchial rule. his family lived a fairly simple life that was dedicated to running their bakery in brooklyn.

this simple life began to feel quite exhilarating as he found himself falling more and more in love with a newly-immigrated family friend at twenty. ever since meeting colette lyon (which of course was at the bakery — where else) he couldn’t think of anything else. the two remained inseparable into their marriage, too, where the two decided to momentarily elope to the beach despite his parents’ wishes. both colette and michel had a fascination with the sea, perhaps symbolizing the voyage that connected their childhood with their newfound adulthood. this fixation grew as he decided to leave his  family in favor of becoming a fisherman running his own shop at the local fish market (also against his parents’ wishes). and as their family grew to include two children, he believes it truly was the best financial decision he’s ever made (which he was well-aware there weren’t many).

but honestly, michel’s favorite thing about new york had to be the selection of taverns. the routine of waking up early, going out to fish, spending his entire day trying to sell his catches at the market, and coming home to two rowdy toddlers proved to exhaust the brunette both physically and emotionally by the time he was twenty-four. so, it wasn’t a surprise to often see him spending most of his evenings during the week at the local bar, making several short-term friends who also wanted to make the most of their night. however one night felt different as michel became what was most likely the most intoxicated he has ever been with a room with equally intoxicated men who decided that receiving fists hurt good and fighting felt fun. he was too drunk to process the chilled air (perhaps that hurt good, too), but something felt wrong as the men continued beating on him. leaving him bleeding out in the early winter air, it very quickly dawned on him that there would be no more life for him to live. no more colette. or his family and their quaint bakery. never see his children get married. as he made peace with this reality, in his last moments he thought about the sea.

VAMPIRE

everything felt bright and intense as he gasped his first breath of immortality. focusing his attention on how fast his senses were heightening and the excruciating bloodlust, it took a moment for him to realize his bougie surroundings. confused, capricious, and super fucking hungry, aleksander was there to guide him into this new underground world.

which honestly terrified the fuck out of michel. as his senses began to settle, his heart sank to his feet thinking about his death — the stupidity, carelessness and impulsivity causing an eternal separation to the life he worked hard to achieve. he grew depressed and the intense bloodlust that he wasn’t able to get a grasp on wasn’t doing much to uplift him. he depended on the older vampire emotionally as transitioning into a life completely vacant of his family was very challenging as he witnessed the rest of their lives at a distance. this often resulted in michel coming to him, very depressed as he questioned his vampirism, with aleksander always finding a way to lift his spirits and remind him of his purpose. because he saw it in michel that night before he died at the tavern. he saw the charm and how he could make anyone in the room feel like his best friend. he knew that once this cloudiness of despair and self-loathing blows over that a magnetic charisma would lie underneath. something he can use.

so, aleksander stayed beside him. reassured him. and ultimately invited him into his home to live as he would adopt him as a son, passing down his millennia of knowledge on to him and sowing seeds that he hoped to one day reap. luckily, the stages of grief passed away quickly throughout the coming months as michel realized the potential in this unfortunate situation. firstly, he has never seen so much opulence in his life. he heard stories of it, though mostly negative ones as they were all passed down from the french revolution, but now this was able to be his reality. and he was pretty fond of his newfound speed and strength. now at least it was guaranteed he wouldn’t die from another drunken bar fight.

but as he was increasingly noticing the positives of living in the mansion, the negatives began to bother him. or as others call them: helena. you see, with his human siblings, he didn’t have the problem of trust as they all grew up together and shared blood. but it wasn’t long after moving in that michel realized just how necessary the blood relation would be and how significant the corvinus name is in their world. and perhaps another large part of the problem was they didn’t truly see him as a sibling at all. truthfully, the condescension stung at the beginning and resulted in michel spending most days keeping to himself and reading the literature that occupied the walls.

as decades passed and michel was sure colette and the kids had most likely passed too, he found himself integrating back into human society by the end of the nineteenth century. which he surprisingly felt more relieved than disheartened by, as he’d finally be able to get more separation from his older sibling, but perhaps it could also be one of the signs of vampire cynicism creeping in. because, oh boy, did it creep in. the first couple decades of the twentieth century were probably most notably some of the sloppiest years michel had. he began transitioning from blood bags (the mansion always had them on deck) to feeding directly from humans and while he knew never to bite the neck, he felt it hard to resist biting elsewhere. and found it hard to resist in general, often accidentally killing a few people in the process.

however, once magdelena was born, he found himself becoming interested in the family again and decided to clean up his careless feeding act. as she grew older, he became quite fond of her presence and protective, because she sort of reminded him of his own son and daughter who he had left behind. in a way, it felt very cathartic to (practically) raise her; like he was writing a wrong and filling the void that the act of no longer being a father created. being there for her and caring for her gave him a purpose that he lacked up until that point (which probably explains his tendency to overfeed). he came around the house more, helping her as she developed into her vampirism and taught her all the things aleksander had taught him. minus the shitty values. when he would pop back into society, he spent it educating himself on new ideas and theories that inhabited both human and supernatural spheres, mostly out of curiosity and his love for learning if anything. during this time, he also eventually met others of his vampire kind as well as lycans, though more clandestine. many of which soon became his closest friends.

and that’s why he was fairly devastated to know about aleksander’s plans. his stomach twisted knowing that someone who once raised him could be capable of such cruelty. it sickened him — and he let him know it. which, in turn, earned him expulsion from his home of two centuries. maybe some saw it coming — how michel was often distanced from the start — but it still hurt the vampire nonetheless. he lost connection to his first family and it hurt like a bitch to lose it to another, regardless how he felt about them individually. especially to leave behind magdelena, who he felt attached to since her childhood. but he hoped that this would send a statement throughout their underground world. that they should not turn their eyes away from injustices no matter who it’s coming from. he needed to get the vampires to care about this issue and needed to do something to bring awareness and a call to action. so, in comparison, present-day michel is much less gloomy and blindly naive than early-day michel, luckily. although he still feels guilty and a tinge of regret for his association to aleksander, he finds that offering any resources he can in the fight for the liberation is his best way of coping with it.

[maaaddiexo]

Chapter Eleven | Peter Pevensie

[Red Series Book Two: Ribbons]

Rosemary returned to England to find things just how she left them - her father and brother missing and her mother drinking in her bedroom. But Rosemary wasn't going to give up this time. She took charge of her family as the Pevensies took charge of a country. 

But it's been a year since all five of them returned to England, and when they are called back by Susan's magic horn, they return to a completely different Narnia. Magic has been dormant for centuries and men now rule Narnia but with brute force and terror. 

The Pevensies know why they've been called back to Narnia but Rosemary is once again left in the dark. And with Aslan making himself sparse, the five kids are left to their own devices to answer their own questions.

Do they trust the exiled prince? Can they save Narnia again, and this time without Aslan swooping in to save them? And in Rosemary's case, why was she called back?

[Chapter Twelve] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

Rosemary found Peter sitting with Lucy in the chamber in front of Aslan. She could see the tops of their heads over the edge of the Stone Table.

"You're lucky, you know." Peter's voice was soft. Reminiscent.

"What do you mean?"

"To have seen him," Peter looked at Lucy and then at the carving. "I wish he'd just given me some sort of proof."

"Maybe we're the ones who need to prove ourselves to him."

Peter sighed heavily and tilted his head back against the Stone Table. "I just always thought he'd have our backs."

Feeling like she'd intruded long enough, Rosemary stepped forward and made herself known. "Hey, Lucy? Could I have a minute with Peter?" Once Lucy had turned the corner at the top of the chamber, Rosemary sat down next to Peter and pressed her lips to his cheek, lips lingering on skin. "Talk to me Peter. Tell me what's going on inside that head of yours."

"Caspian was right. They're dead because of me. The gate fell and trapped them in there and I watched them die. It's my fault."

Was this what Rosemary hadn't seen when she left the Pevensies and Narnia behind? The guilt and grief he felt was immense. "Did you take their lives?"

"Might as well have. I put them in that situation."

"But you didn't take their lives, Peter. And they agreed to the plan. When you proposed the idea, I saw Glenstorm look at Caspian, who was begging him to say no. To take his side. But Glenstorm chose your plan. He chose you. Please don't blame yourself."

Peter looked down at the small book in his lap, worn with time. He couldn't promise Rosemary that he wouldn't blame himself. "This was in my chest when we were at Cair Paravel. After every battle, I would write down the names of every Narnian who died, soldier or civilian. I don't want to forget them. They laid down their lives for me and put their trust in me. I may not have been able to save them but I can keep their legacies alive."

Rosemary had never admired Peter more. He cared so much. About everything and everyone that ever crossed his path. She was sure that some part of him cared about Caspian too. She remembered Susan telling her about his temper. Did his temper come from his caring nature? There were so many things about Peter that were a mystery and she wanted to know every single thing.

"It's like you said, Peter. We can't change the past. But we can learn from it. You care so much and there's nothing wrong with it, but please don't get lost in the guilt you feel. Don't shut me out."

"It's just...there's so much guilt," Peter admitted, his voice cracking. "I don't know if I'm meant to be King again."

"You doubted yourself once before and ruled for fifteen magnificent years." Peter rolled his eyes at the joke but his lips quirked up just enough for Rosemary to notice. "Why would things be different this time around?"

"Caspian." Peter looked down at his lap, embarrassed. "For the past year all I've wanted was to come back to Narnia. And now I'm here and it's nothing like I expected. I thought things would be just like we left them. But everything is different - not just Narnia. I'm different too. What if...what if Narnia doesn't need us anymore?"

"Oh Peter," Rosemary stroked Peter's hair. "Narnia will always need you, but maybe you no longer need Narnia. You're right - you are different and in the best of ways. You've become such an amazing person. And you don't need a crown to be amazing. You've proven that over and over again."

"Minus last night's embarrassment. Maybe Caspian will be better than I was."

"I don't doubt Caspian's ability to rule. He'll make a great king one day, but he still has so much to learn. Remember you've got fifteen years on Caspian. Teach him what you know."

"How?"

"You'll get the opportunity soon enough," Edmund came around the Stone Table. "You need to see this." They raced through the tunnels and up to a higher level to a balcony of sorts where they could see the treeline and the army emerging from it.  Caspian, Lucy, and Glenstorm were already there, and everybody else was gathering on the ground.

"That's more than Miraz's men," Caspian spoke nervously. "He must have asked for assistance from the other towns and cities."

"When I went, there were already around five thousand men. That's plenty to overpower us. Why ask for more?"

"Because he wants to squash us like a bug," Caspian growled. "He thought they'd eradicated Narnians long ago and now he has to deal with the embarrassment of failing. He's making a show of defeating us."

"He won't get the chance," Peter stated. "If he calls in reinforcements, then so do we."

•

"Cakes and kettledrums. That's your next big plan? Sending a little girl into the darkest parts of the forest? Alone?"

Peter peered at Trumpkin over a large slab of stone. Back in the How, they were in what had been deemed, 'The War Room'. "It's our only chance."

"And she won't be alone," Susan stepped forward.

Trumpkin was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. "Haven't enough of us died already?"

"Nikabrik was my friend too," Badger spoke softly. "But he lost hope. Queen Lucy hasn't, and neither have I."

"Hope worked last time," Rosemary smiled, bumping Peter's shoulder with hers.

"We have to hold them off until Lucy and Susan get back."

Caspian cleared his throat from the corner of the room. He'd been invited but he didn't feel like he belonged. "If I may?" Peter nodded. "Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer, but as King, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people. There is one that may buy us some time."

•

Rosemary watched as Edmund and two Narnians made their way across the field and into enemy territory. "I don't like this."

"Of course you don't," Peter smiled. "But you know it has to be done."

Rosemary nodded with pursed lips. "It's smart. Miraz has no idea who he's up against. They don't know our true numbers or your skill."

"He'll be lulled by a false sense of security and then- WHAM! Peter Pevensie for the win. The crowds will be cheering!"

"And then we'll go to war." Rosemary looked over at Peter, the sun shining, making his blonde hair look like sand and his eyes like the ocean. "You know they won't surrender."

"Caspian assured me of that. But as long as it buys us some time, then that's all we need."

Rosemary looked out to the field and could see Edmund disappear into the trees. "As long as it doesn't get you killed in the process.

•

I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, hereby challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field. The fight shall be to the death. The Reward shall be total surrender."

[Chapter Twelve] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

[percyscourt]

percy jackson godly parent swap

(those who aren't mentioned in a different cabin stay the same)

PERCY:

son of aphrodite

sally jackson falling for aphrodite in a male form, skin tan and hair jet black, with eyes everchanging between gold, blue and green. sally confused when aphrodite visited her in her usual female form, but realized she loved her just the same

percy asking his mom about his dad, who his mom calls "the most beautiful person she'd ever met"

percy growing up and using charmspeak without even realizing it; "Nancy, just shut up." and Nancy immediately shutting her mouth close, as if she was a robot of some kind. percy brushing this off as the fact that nancy just didn't want to get in trouble

grover and his mom telling percy that they didn't really know who his dad was, but grover had suspicions based on the aura he radiates

his fight with the minotaur still staying the same, except at one point he had to will himself to get up using charmspeak

aphrodite's symbol popped above his head as soon as he was conscious after his fight with the minotaur and percy was sure it was a mistake; how could the goddess of beauty be his father? it wasn't even the fact that she was a god!dess!, it was the fact that percy didn't really see him good enough to be an aphrodite kid, not handsome or stylish enough

percy's siblings annoyed by how little he cares about his looks at first, then helping him find his right style- which they describe as new york skater junkie

aphrodite constantly sending him gifts; letters with love advice, new clothes, all that. and percy secretly reading the love letters but throwing away everything else. (hey he's a confused teenage boy, can you blame him?)

aphrodite constantly voicing her approval of annabeth, and begging percy to just ask her out

percy being absolutely crushed about silena, whom he was closest with, and him and clarisse shutting down anybody who called her a traitor or the enemy

percy being the cabin counselor due to a note silena left behind, just in case, and him stopping all of drew's dumb ideas (the ugly shoes, which were actually percy's shoes he showed up to camp with)

percy arriving at camp jupiter after training at the wolf house and fighting off the gorgons with hazel and frank, only to have people look down at him for being a son of aphrodite

percy trying to impress everybody so much, always trying to show he's so much more than such a pretty face

percy always trying to show everybody he is strong, smart, and a valid addition to the prophecy

percy and his mom fighting against gaea, and them kicking ass at it too

percy learning that being an aphrodite demigod is about loving yourself and caring for yourself, and how that doesn't make you weak, but rather stronger.

ANNABETH:

daughter of ares

annabeth meeting thalia and luke, being quick in words and with her knife, nearly cutting luke's throat

them traveling to camp and annabeth having the natural battle instinct, dodging and slicing at monsters with uncertainty, yes, but also with a little ease and reflex

annabeth being claimed her first night at the dining pavilion, going to sit down with only about six campers, all glaring daggers at her. annabeth not feeling intimidated, but weirdly at home. more peaceful here than at her dad's, anyway.

annabeth and luke swordfighting, and annbeth slowly yet surely becoming one of the camp's best, though she prefers daggers any day.

annabeth getting named camp counselor despite being eleven, because of her seniority in years of being there

her first act as counselor is to redo the exterior of the cabin, because honestly, it's horrendous. she still keeps the theme of war and everything, just minus the bloody boar, because annabeth gets creeped out by it's following eyes

her second action is stopping the "camp initiation" of dunking kids' heads in toilet bowls

annabeth's battle strategies being the best of camp, and her cabin and the athena one always going head to head in capture the flag.

her being one of her dad's favorites and always trying to please him, always pushing herself to be the best

her fatal flaw still being hubris, and she wants to tear down this world for a new one

her having the strongest Odikinesis at camp. her walking into a room and suddenly people remember that thing their friend did to them months ago, then everybody's fighting

annabeth getting the blessing of ares, and oh my her muscles. she's so fit and muscular and built even before the blessing, but after it's like just. wow. percy gets a lot of shit from it "wow you're girlfriend is more jacked than you" but percy thinks she looks great.

annabeth becoming so lost and distraught after percy goes missing that any time somebody mentions him, her grey eyes go black, and an aura of fear falls over that person. of course, annabeth hates that.

annabeth proving to people that ares demigods aren't just dumb, hot-headed jocks, but also smart, strategic heroes.

JASON:

son of invidia/nemesis

jason arriving at camp jupiter as the first and only invidia demigod, determined to join the fifth cohort and turn it around, to avenge those in the cohort who were mistreated and to bring honor back to their name

reyna choosing him as a leader because 1) his strong sense of justice 2) his refusal to let anyone bully other people of a lower ranking 3) while also giving out fair punishments

reyna, along with having her two dogs in her meetings, but also jason as he can sense when people are lookin for revenge/trouble

him getting his memory wiped, waking up in the bus, feeling a strong sense of missing, something he needed to do

seeing that guy hit on and flirt with piper, and jason hating it. he didn't know much- but he knew that he hated people that thought they were everything, people with big egos

jason and his friends getting picked up by this butch guy and annabeth girl, and jason noticing that annabeth was radiating this very vengeful aura. he was so intimidated he almost didn't get on the pegasus, but he didn't think he'd be better off here

jason arriving at camp and getting claimed almost immediately, a glowing scale hovering over his head.

jason walking into the cabin, on one wall seeing a picture of who must be his sister thalia with annabeth and another dude, and on another seeing a bunkbed pushed against the wall. with somebody on the bottom bunk.

jason meeting damien white, his half-brother, and learning about ethan nakamura. at first, jason was completely appalled by how traitorous his brother had been. then, hearing more about ethan and becoming sad, wishing to have met him.

jason even more sad learning that his brother didn't get a cabin while he was alive, and jason vowing to make it up to him by making sure all the gods' kids got their own cabins

jason and the seven fighting against gaea, and jason almost passing out by all the energy people were putting out. wirh every swipe of somebody's sword, it was as if they were basically yelling, "you! this is what you deserve!" and while jason did not see his mother at the fight, he felt her presence near him, giving him extra power

jason dying, begging piper to fulfill his promise of building the minor cabins, because all jason wanted was to keep his promise.

PIPER:

daughter of hermes

tristan mclean falling for hermes in female form, running into her on the beach. like, actually running. tristan running away from the waves after an early morning surf, and hermes literally going for a run on the beach

hermes and tristan going on dates, spending time with each other 24/7, hermes getting pregnant. then hermes leaving, days after piper had been born, unable to tell tristan the truth about gods.

piper growing up wondering how her mom could flake, and how her dad could still be so in love?? with somebody seemingly so normal?? he was tristan mclean after all.

piper growing up, being able to influence people very easily with her persuasive words alone. and when that didn't work, her talent of stealing and lock-picking came in handy

piper finding out about how all her memories with jason were a trick of the mist and her immediate reaction being to hate the gods, and to hate her mother, whoever she was, because why would she let them do that?

piper arriving at camp, nobody sure where to place her. piper walking into the hermes' cabin, instantly feeling at home. but hermes couldn't be her mother. piper was sure.

piper being claimed in front of the whole camp at the campfire, hermes himself showing up to deliever her a special package equipped with top of the line tennis shoes, a winter jacket, and a demand request for her to be apart of the new quest

piper being insanely annoyed with hermes and how he just waltzed back into her life. and how it seemed like he could read right through her

piper hearing about luke and understanding how he could feel hatred towards their dad (or in piper's case, mother), then immediately feeling horrible for feeling this after meeting the stoll brothers

who by the way, became super protective over piper as soon as they met, and who also told her of their prank rivalry with katie gardner in hopes of her joining them. and she did. of course.

piper growing to sort of like hermes, whoch made her feel horrible about betraying the gods in order to get her dad back. piper telling hermes before her friends, to let him know she wasn't a traitor. piper afraid of hermes grouping her with luke. hermes forgiving her, and recognizing her as the hero she is

hermes and piper fighting side by side against the giants, working together as if it was routine

piper beginning to understand how her dad fell for hermes

LEO:

son of athena

athena falling for all of esperanza: her brains as much as her beauty, her strength as much as her character

leo being born with all of esperanza's exterior; curly hair, dark freckles, long legs, and naturally tan/ethnic skin. this making athena love him one hundred times more, seeing him embody the woman she fell in love with, knowing he was going to be unique. knowing he was going to be that much special when he grew up

leo never forgetting anything, especially not years of torment from tia callida. and especially not his mother's death, how everybody blamed him, the words of gaea, everything. wishing he could forget everything, but having a perfect memory. of everything.

this keeping him up all night through every foster home, forcing him to run from each one, guilt dragging him down every step

leo being top of the class at every school he goes to, without even trying. even with his reading dyslexia. leo carrying these grades to the wilderness school, with all the troubled kids who don't care about their grades, just for everyone to bully ask him to tutor them

leo finding out about his friendship with jason being a trick of the mist, and beating himself up about it. constantly. how could he not see it? how could he, the top of every class, the school's pride and jewel, be that dumb?

leo getting claimed as soon as they landed, and being assigned will to give him a tour. leo arriving at the cabin, immediately feeling out of place in the sea of blonde hair and gray eyes

his half-siblings more or less annoyed with his jokes, but nontheless giving him a chance, and them forgetting how they even got along in life without him

him becoming the backbone of the cabin and, soon enough, getting named camp counselor by malcolm pace, who, quickly became one of leo's bestfriends

leo and malcolm making fun of all the couples, and malcolm spilling about the time he accidentally walked in on percy and annabeth hugging, and it quickly becoming one of leo's favorite stories- which he uses to make fun of both parties

leo arriving on ogyia, calculating ways and distances he'd have to travel to get off the island as soon as he landed. thinking the island was something he could solve, and getting extremely annoyed when calypso pointed out it was just magic

leo flying above his mother during the giant war on his invention, festus, which he built with the help of the hephaestus cabin, throwing off his calculated and mathematically composed weapons.

leo waking up after taking the Physician's Cure, finally able to sort of appreciate magic over logic. sort of.

HAZEL:

daughter of hekate/hecate

marie falling in love with the mystery and magic of hekate, and hekate falling in love with marie for the magic she saw in her

hekate granting marie's wish but warning her of its trouble and refusing to stick around long enough to see her and hazel hurt

marie's wish turning into hazel's curse, hazel touching jewels and treasures and them instantly becoming tainted with unfortunes of marie's selfishness

hazel growing up with things happening to her: her wishing something and it coming true, but marie telling her it was just marie's power of fortune telling and whatnot

hazel's eyes and lips trained to read and speak roman, as most of hekate's enchanments are spoken in roman

hazel's little white lies turning into a mist trick, if she lied and said she had an apple, right after marie saw that apple. it was little things, but not too little to go unnoticeable by marie

marie moving hazel to alaska despite hekate's pleads, and hazel feeling as if some part of her was dialed down, as if moving to alaska had diminished this "light" of hers that her mother loved

gaea choosing hazel to manipulate because of her powerful aura

hazel using her Umbrakinesis to shroud gaea in darkness, then caving the world in around her, taking hazel down with her

hazel and marie getting to the underworld and hazel trying to hold on to her life as much as possible, who knows how much time passing, then being tapped on the shoulder by this scrawny boy

this boy, nico, claiming to be hazel's half-sibling, here to bring her back from the open doors of death, with a tip from their mother

hazel arriving at camp jupiter, the first daughter of hekate, hazel being able to manipulate mist and the shadows, even learning how to shadow travel through nico

basically hazel being a badass all throughout the war alongside nico and their mom

hazel's friends helping her realize that her powers are not a curse, but a blessing that she can use to help others.

FRANK:

son of apollo

apollo meeting emily zhang during war, where lots of his kids were

emily thinking he was an egotistical airhead, yet falling for him all the same. emily falling for his never wavering bravery and risk-taking, and apollo falling for emily's safeness yet strength.

frank growing up wondering how anybody could leave his mom, his great mom. frank growing up not missing his dad. frank growing up hoping his dad was at least a good person, and if he wasn't that he didn't pass that on to frank.

frank being a horrible singer, stumbling over his words, yet still being able to heal with his voice, strength pouring from his words to people's ears, telling them to keep going, you got this. like this warm ball of light and comfort was radiating off of him

apollo visiting frank after his mother's death, in the form of a demigod, giving frank his second bow and arrow

frank getting claimed two days after arriving at camp. frank at first sort of hating his dad, this self-absorbed, annoying dude.

people giving him one glance, unable to believe he was a son of apollo. despite his archery skills, he was shy, in the worst cohort, and had none of that "pizzazz." people usually laughed in his face.

frank being ashamed to be in the fifth cobort, when his father was so used to being in the spotlight, so used to being loved and adored, frank being so scared that his father might think he was less

frank getting a blessing from apollo, making him tall with movie star good looks and seemingly glowing skin. frank begging him to dial it down a bit. apollo demanding his son go on the quest, or else

frank's dad constantly popping in during the quest in forms of some homeless man or another, which frank strangely appreciated

frank growing to like him, as he went through the quest, seeing why his mother liked him. seeing a little of himself in apollo, even

frank having the perfect shot, with anything. frank being able to sense the perfect places to put arrows into monsters' chests, being able to sense which place would kill them the fastest

frank meeting will and the apollo cabin, who, unlike camp jupiter, immediately accepted frank and made him feel at home. who never doubted for a second frank's worth, shy, chubby kid or not

apollo constantly voicing how special frank is, how proud he is that frank can be such a geniune hero without all the bravado that apollo himself used.

REYNA:

daughter of pluto

reyna's dad, Julian Ramírez-Arellano, falling for pluto as a pale woman, jet black hair with purple-ish eyes. reyna's dad coming back from war, scarred, becoming more scarred by learning who pluto really was after reyna had been born, and being disgusted by himself and pluto.

julian shoving this disgust on his daughters, screaming, yelling. julian never being the same afterwards. julian always thinking people are out to get him, ideas of war and pluto always haunting him.

julian reduced to a ghost, but appearing to reyna and hylla as a still alive, solid person. reyna driving an imperial good dagger through him, evaporating him forever.

reyna and hylla meeting Circe, and her telling them who their mother was. her promising them a grand future, one where they could get away and above abusive, crazy men, like their father.

then percy jackson and annabeth chase coming, turning reyna's world upside down. reyna going to camp jupiter, hylla to the amazons

reyna's first time shadow travelling being an accident. reyna and hylla being cornered by the pirates at night, reyna just wanting to hide in the shadows of the forest. and then they did. reyna and hylla appearing just five minutes away from circe's spa, both drained from their joint effort but most of all reyna

reyna arriving at camp and almost instantly earning her title of praetor

reyna being able to cast this feeling of fear over people with a single gaze, leaving people frightened days later still

reyna leading her legions into battle practice, hearing the voices of the dead who once held the same weapons in their hand

nico bringing hazel to reyna, asking for her to let the other girl into camp. reyna sensing almost at once that hazel had just came back to life.

percy coming to camp, reminding reyna of the life she could have had. reyna reading his feelings, reyna knowing his past too inckuded death of close ones, maybe even recently. reyna deciding to give him a chance

reyna meeting annabeth and seeing what she saw in percy in her eyes alone, times ten

reyna touching statues of war gods, and being overwhelmed by waves of dead soldiers pleading, begging for help. reyna being able to communicate with some of them, but most of them just mumbled incoherently

reyna going to find the Argo II only for scipio to later get injured, reyna having to put him out of his misery, but reyna still being able to feel his presence as a ghost

reyna shadow traveling the Athena Parthenos alongside nico and coach hedge all the way to camp, nico helping with his powers as a son of hecate

them stopping for breaks at all these historic places, the dead screaming at reyna, begging to be raised

reyna finally raising them at the battle at camp half blood, hundreds of dead demigods rising, tightly gripping their weapons, ready to win back their honor

NICO:

son of hecate

maria falling for hecate's mysterious yet caring, nature and hecate falling in love with maria's soft spoken and kind words paired with her dark hair spilling over her shoulders

zeus trying to strike down the di Angelo kids but hecate tricking him with the mist, though later it backfires as zeus strikes down maria

hecate, furious and devastated, begging hades to help erase their memories, and later place the kids in the Lotus Casino

Nico and Bianca almost breaking out of the daze of the Casino, and having to be served several flowers just to get them to play games; their mom's magic trying to break through and protect them

the di Angelo kids getting out, going to Westover Hall, and hecate paying all the fees

nico falling in love with this game all about magic, studying the plays and spells, learning them. realizing that if he worded them right, he could do some of the minor stuff; levitating, starting little fires, even being able to hide in the shadows sometimes. bianca convincing him that it was all his imagination

percy, annabeth, and thalia showing up and helping the di angelos escape, bianca becoming so scarce and quiet that she turned invisible. everybody thinking it to be a trick of the light

nico being the opposite, drawing attention to himself, all his questions loud, the sound of the forest and nature suddenly shushed, cut off

nico getting to camp and feeling out of place, as no hecate cabin was built, not being claimed. bianca leaving, percy promising, then bianca dying. percy bringing back a hecate figurine, but it being too late; nico slipping into the shadows

nico slowly teaching himself shadow travel and mist control but having to stop days after a simple trick

nico arriving in the maze, using what he could of the mist to distract and confuse monsters

percy and them finding nico, who casts a black stone wall (a trick of the mist) to stop kronos from coming after them, revealing his godly parent

nico having a little bit of necromancy powers, but only for fellow hecate demigods. nico using this in his advantage in the titan war

nico leaving camp after the titan war, only showing up when percy went missing to help look for him. nico finally having his own cabin

nico's mom tipping him off about hazel, and hades and hecate's agreement to let nico pass through the doors of death safely

nico traveling with reyna and coach hedge, helping reyna shadow travel and healing with spells

nico teaching will stronger and faster healing spells to use on the campers

nico learning slowly how to embrace his powers, despite remarks he got over the years of people calling him a freak. nico not feeling so left out and alone

WILL:

son of iris

naomi solace falling for iris' kind eyes and smile that stretches to her eyes, iris falling for naomi's shining eyes, as if the sun lived there

will getting to camp and staying in the hermes cabin until after the titan war, where he was claimed the minute the iris cabin was finished being built

will being able to pull light out of nowhere, in the darkness of nights, like a beacon

will seeing being a healer as art, fixing what's broken and putting it right again

will using his mom's communication skills to calm people down in time for him to heal them, occasionally with the help of nico

will helping the aphrodite cabin with educating people about acceptance and accepting their selves and others

will being chosen to help apollo after he was turned human because of his kind nature and patience

will overall being a ray of sunshine whenever people need him, whatever the circumstances

BONUSES:

clarisse as a nike demigod, and being almost intolerable with her competitve behavior

meg mccaffrey as a dionysus demigod

alex fierro as a hermes demigod

magnus chase as an apollo demigod

mallory keen as a dionysus demigod

halfborn gunderson as an ares demigod

tj as a nike demigod

blitzen as an aphrodite demigod

hearthstone as a hecate demigod

you're welcome

[tallulahchanel]

“The Rose of Wakanda” Chapter 6

Warnings: Angst.

Words: 2.3k

Tags: @lady-olive-oil @marvelheaux @zaddysqueen7 @ovohanna24 @thegodmother97 @sarcastic-sunshines

Masterlist

November 2, 2016 19:51 My chambers

Dear Diary,

Guess who I finally heard from. Not with a call or a message, but with a….

Let me start from the beginning.

I wanted to get an early start on my day, so I awoke around six to accompany Leo on his morning bathroom break with a light jog in the jungle. Adorned in my pink sports bra with black trimmings and black shorts with pink trimmings, I listened to the energetic drum beats playing from my kimoyo beads. I don’t usually jog, but during my leave of absence, I found it relaxing—minus the sweat of course.

About an hour later, Leo and I returned to the palace, entering the kitchen through the back door, so I can give him his morning steak and shower before making breakfast.

Once inside, I heard the suspicious sounds of shuffling coming from the lower cupboards, an indication that someone was there. Besides Weza and I, no one else in the palace was usually awake and moving around this early.

I inched closer to get a better look, but all I could see was someone squatting and fishing through the junk food stash cabinet. From my view, I could see this person had big Afro-textured hair, sun-kissed mocha skin, and a medium brown dress—intricately woven with furs and complimented by a grass skirt—with a pair of medium-brown fur boots to match.

“Isis!” I addressed her, and she jumped. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t scare me like that, chica,” She responded with a glare towards me, her words laced with a thick Dominican accent.

Isis is a Dominican-Wakandan. She was born a year after me in the Dominican Republic to a Wakandan War Dog and her Dominican lover, who decided to remain unmarried. Unfortunately, an incident, one she hasn't given me the full story on, cost Isis her father and her childhood home, forcing her mother to return to Wakanda to raise her. She and I met in our teens when we both took jobs at the market—she worked the fabric stand while I worked the fruit stand—and have been friends ever since. Of course, T’Challa did have some jealousy about me having another best friend, but I guess chasing after Nakia kept him too occupied to care. Isis now lives in the Jabari mountains as Lord M’Baku’s wife and the mother of their two children--three if you count the little one inside of her now.

“Isis, why are you here?” I asked again.

After grabbing a pack of Oreo's out of the cabinet, she stood and scoffed at me. "You sound like I'm not welcomed."

“I didn't say you weren't," I rebutted while walking to the fridge to find Leo's steak and a bottle of water for myself. "I would've liked it if you called or something before coming over."

I didn't mean to be annoyed with her. After all, it wasn't her fault that I've been jumpy since T'Challa's long-lost cousin attacked the palace. The worse he's ever done to me was grab my wrist after I refused a pass he made at me. Had Ayo not intervened, stating that Weza needed me—which turned out to be the truth—who knows what could've happened to me?

“Hey hermana," she addressed me with her unique nickname for me and put a supportive hand on my shoulder, "what's wrong?"

Heaving a heavy sigh, I closed the fridge and turned to her. “Have you heard from Dakarai?”

It seems that I’m always asking someone that question.

Isis scoffed and rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. “If that idiota knows what’s good for him, he wouldn’t think to contact me.”

“You’re right,” I agreed defeatedly.

“I don’t know why you want to stay with that man after everything he’s put you through.”

All I could do was nod before taking a sip of my water. “I know. I know. It’s just that….” my voice trailed off when Weza entered the kitchen with a sorrowful look on her face, causing me to furrow my brows. “Weza? Is something wrong?”

She reached into her yellow dress pocket and pulled out a pink envelope, holding it out towards me. “This came for you yesterday. I should've given it to you, but you said you wanted to be alone, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

I hesitantly took the envelope from her, and the first thing I noticed was the familiar handwriting. Dakarai's cursive had always been a bit sloppy, but with time, I learned to understand and recognize it. The other thing I noticed was the envelope didn't have a return address, almost as if he didn't want to a return message from me.

“Good morning," T'Challa's cheerful morning voice caught my attention. When we briefly locked eyes, I saw him lift a concerned brow before I shifted my focus back to the envelope.

Biting the bullet, I decided to open it. Inside of it was a white Get Well Soon card, beautifully decorated with red tulips (Dakarai knows that’s my favorite flower). Shaking my head, I made a mental note to scold him for giving me this card of all greeting cards—especially since he knows why I was absent for a month. I, then, opened the card to find a long paragraph, nearly filling the entire card space, of his handwriting.

‘Dearest Rose,’ it read, ‘I hope you won’t take it personal that I chose a Get Well Soon card, but I…’

I wasn’t in the mood for the formalities, so I stopped reading and began skimming over the words, hoping to find something about where he was and why I haven’t spoken to him since I left Wakanda a month ago.

But then, something caught my attention, and I gasped at the words I read, words that smashed my heart into pieces.  As I reread them to make sure that I hadn't imagined them, a lump formed in my throat and a sob escaped my lips.

“Rose?” T’Challa addressed me in concern, gaining my attention. “Yintoni ingxaki?”

Instead of answering him, I turned on my heels and ran out of the back door and towards the jungle, dropping the card in the process.

“Rose!” he called after me, but I kept running, quickening my pace as leaves from the trees slapped my face.

The leaves and my tears blurred my vision, so I didn't notice the root that stuck out of the ground until I tripped over it and fell,  getting dirt on my face and leaves in my hair. Once the shock of what happened wore off, I sat up and winced at the pain in my knee. I looked at it and saw that it was scraped and bleeding from the fall.

“Rose?” I heard T’Challa’s voice, an indication that he caught up to me, killing any chances I had at running from him. Then again, it was stupid of me for trying to run from the Black Panther.

“I'm fine," I tried to keep him from worrying about me, but it was no use.

When he saw me on the ground, he knelt beside me to inspect my knee, causing me to wince at his touch. He scooped me up bridal style and began carrying me away from the area. I assumed he was taking me back to the palace until I saw the path he was taking me on, a path I haven't walked in almost two years.

This path leads to our tree-house that was built for us when we were children. Of course, it looked fancy for a couple of kids to play in, but King T'Chaka always wanted the best for his children. Over the years, it turned from a playroom for two kids, to a teen spot, and now a quiet place for both of us to get away from life's anxieties.

T’Challa carried me inside and set me on one of the chairs before he went to look for something. “Here we are,” he said after a few minutes, returning with a first aid kit—we needed that on many occasions. He knelt in front of me and took an alcohol swab to the wound, evoking a wince out of me. "Sorry." He finished cleaning the wound and placed a band-aid over it.

“Thank you," I told him before he left to put the kit back in its compartment.

A few minutes of silence passed between us before he broke it.

“Rose, we need to talk.”

“About what?!” I snapped, evidently annoyed. I was already emotional from that sorry card Dakarai sent me, so I wasn’t in the mood for whatever ridiculousness he was about to subject me to.

“You told me things were fine between you and Dakarai.”

“They are….were," I corrected myself. "It doesn't matter anymore. Besides, what happened to the you-know-when-I ‘m-lying thing?"

“I knew you were,” he replied. “But I was waiting until you were ready to come to me with the truth.”

Instead of responding verbally, I hugged my knees to my chest and stared at the ground, avoiding eye contact with him.

“What is it that you're not telling me?" He asked, and the concern in his voice caused another lump to form in my throat.

Another silence passed between us before I released a sigh. “He broke up with me.”

T’Challa’s brows furrowed. “When?”

“Just now," I answered as tears fell thick and fast down my cheeks. "He feels that it's in our best interest if we go our separate ways. At least, that's what he said in that card."

I released a small laugh at those words. This wasn't an amused or joyful laugh. This laugh was laced with sadness, anger, pain, despair, and bitterness.

“Can you believe he actually broke off our engagement with a greeting card?” I asked T’Challa, my brown eyes locking with his sympathetic baby-doe eyes. “And of all the cards, he chose a Get Well Soon one.”

One last bitter laugh left my lips before I looked at the floor again, resting my head on my knees and letting the tears fall.

“I am so sorry, intyatyambo.”

I shook my head. "Don't be. I've handled everything else alone, so I guess I'll deal with this alone too."

"Hey now, that's not fair!” He expressed and took a seat in the other chair. “Haven't I always been there for you?"

"You have," I emphasized. "You've been there for me through everything, but you shouldn't have. When I was sick during the early stages of my pregnancy, it shouldn't have been you helping me get through it. It shouldn't have been you that held me after I lost our child or held my hand through the grief. And it shouldn't be you that I run to every time I have a nightmare or a dream about my baba or my son. He should be the one doing those things. Not leaving me to deal with them alone, and certainly not going weeks without speaking to me."

My tears came faster and harder, my body was shaking, and I was struggling to catch my breath. I soon felt T’Challa’s warm arms encircling my small and fragile body as he pulled me out of the chair and into his lap. He began rubbing calming circles on my back while guiding me through a breathing exercise to get it under control. My breathing returned to normal after a while, but the tears were still leaking from my eyes.

“The last time I saw him was when he abandoned me at that mental health center,” I broke the silence between us. “He told me that going there and taking time away from Wakanda would be best for me. Then he left. He never called, never visited. Nothing. Just left me there by myself.”

Silence fell between us again until T’Challa broke it with words that threw me for a loop.

“I know.”

My eyes widen and I sat up to look him deep in his eyes. “You know?”

“I came to visit you one day. You didn't know because you were asleep."

My heart dropped in my stomach and more tears fell from my eyes.

“When I asked the nurse if anyone has checked on you, she said I was the only one.”

“Y...you saw me there?”

“Yes,” he answered with a nod.

I released a small sob before my gaze shifted to the floor in pure shame. "I never wanted you to see me like that. To see me so….so weak."

“Hey, look at me." He lifted my chin, so I could look him in the eyes. "You're one of the strongest persons I know. After everything you've been through, you still manage to fight through it. I've always admired that about you." He cupped my cheeks with his hands and pulled me closer to him, so my head could rest on his. "I know you're going through a tough time right now, but I also have faith that you will fight through it, just like you've done everything else. And you won't do it alone. I promise you that."

“Thank you,” I said softly as T’Challa began wiping my tears with his thumbs.

“Anything for my intyatyambo ekhethekileyo.”

I smiled a bit before wrapping my arms around T’Challa’s neck and snuggling into his warm body. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes contentedly.

“Rose,” he broke the comfortable silence between us.

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad that you’re comfortable, but you’re going to have to get up eventually.

I sighed heavily, assuming that he was talking about work. "I don't feel like doing chores today."

He shook his head. "I have no problem with you wanting to take the day off, but you need a shower. You smell like a mixture of sweat and dirt."

I playfully slapped his chest, receiving his loud, but pleasant, laugh in return.

~~~

Translations

Spanish

Hermana - sister Idiota - idiot

Xhosa

Yintoni ingxaki? - What’s the matter? Intyatyambo - flower intyatyambo ekhethekileyo - special flower

[sheyshen]

Fictober ‘19 - Day 3

Prompt: “Now? Now you listen to me?” Series: SWtoR: Star Wars the Old Republic Pairing: Kara/Arcann/Theron

This is a follow up for a prompt I did last year for fictober, (you can find it here) but this time it got out of hand so it’ll all be found under the read more:

The same nightmare, again and again, and again. Kara grumbled as she braced for the familiar pain to flood her nerves. The nightmare of getting run through on Asylum, again. It had gotten old the second time it repeated, much more so the first dozen, and at this point, it was just plain annoying. She lost track of how many times she had repeated this memory, always the same way, Arcann refuses to listen, she gets run through, wakes up in pain, and usually wakes either Theron or Arcann in the process. The looks of concern on their faces making her feel guilty as she assured them she was fine.

The last thing she wanted was to dredge up that memory for Arcann as well.

So instead she made an attempt at getting him to listen, and like all the other times had clearly failed. Squeezing her eyes shut she waited, all nerves on edge, because dream or not, this was always excruciating.

The sound of a lightsaber deactivating made her open her eyes slowly as Arcann clipped the hilt to his belt and crossed his arms in front of him.

“You say you know how this goes. Then let’s hear it.” He cocked his head to the side as he spoke.

“Wha- Really? Now?” Kara looked at him surprise obvious on her face. “Now, you finally listen to me?”

He glared at her, “Were you lying?”

“No. No I wasn’t. I-”

“Then tell me what happens. This fight, how does it end?” When she just stared at him, he continued. “You offered to surrender before my father appeared and I did not sense you lying then. So, speak, I don’t have the longest patience as you should know if you know me as well as you claim.”

She couldn’t help but huff a laugh, “We fight, you destroy HK,” She gestures towards the still sparking droid to her side. “I get upset and try to shoot you, get one good shot in at your shoulder and after an honestly pretty one-sided fight, you grab me with the force and impale me here.” She puts her hand over where her scar is when she’s awake. Gesturing with her other hand at the platform above, “Koth comes in right when you do and he shoots down the crate above us knocking you off the platform. We both survive, though I don’t like the reason I did. And we fight again months from now on your flagship.”

“So your friend rushes in to save you, ends our fight, and you escape.”

“Yes.”

He glanced up at the platform. “How long until he comes in?”

Kara raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

Taking a heavy breath he continued, “You’re asking for my help in figuring all this out, correct? Then if he shows up when you claim he does then I will help you.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Even though she couldn’t see more than one eye she could tell he had a smug grin on his face. “Then you uphold our deal from earlier and surrender to me and hand over the Gravestone.”

“Deal.” She replied almost immediately earning a huffed laugh from him. “In the time we’ve been talking he should be here soon.” She closed her eyes, thinking, trying to figure out the timing. Pointing at the platform she bounced her hand to her silent counting of 3, 2, 1. “Now.”

As soon as she said now Koth rushed to the railing looking down at them a mix of worry on his face. He glanced between the pair as confusion took over.

Kara shot Arcann her own smug grin, “And there he is. Do you believe me now?”

He narrowed his visible eye at her warningly before striding up to her. “I gave you my word. Now, what do you plan to do?”

“I- I’m not sure yet. I’ve never made it this far before.” She hummed in thought. “I suppose we play this out like it did in reality, go back to the Gravestone and leave Asylum.”

She strode away, leading him up the ramp to Koth who glared at Arcann between sending questioning glances towards the Outlander.

Pulling her aside he asked, “What is going on?”

“I’m trying something different. Just go with it.” She gave him a proud grin before gesturing for them both to follow her and exiting out the door.

“Different? Outlander, what do you mean by that?” After she didn’t explain further he opted to just follow, keeping his blaster trained on the emperor in front of him. He wasn’t sure what she was planning, but he wasn’t about to let down his guard.

They fought their way through the forces that stood between them and Koth’s shuttle. Many stood down at Arcann’s orders, but some refused, perhaps believing it to be a trick or fearful of what Vaylin would do if they didn’t try to eliminate the Outlander regardless of who may’ve suddenly changed sides. If fighting the troops he had just been leading bothered him, Arcann didn’t let it show as he cut down any who refused to follow his orders.

The shuttle ride to the Gravestone went the same as it had in reality, minus the bleeding out and adding in Arcann who stood with his arms crossed as Koth dodged incoming fire, only uncrossing them to catch Kara when she lost her balance and nearly rammed into him.

After landing on the platform as it retracted all three rushed aboard. If Kara had thought the concerned and hostile looks Arcann got when he first joined the Alliance were bad, those paled in comparison to the ones shot his way as he followed her to the bridge as Koth hurried to get the ship airborne.

“Can you do anything to call off the fleet?” She asked, noting the obvious look of surprise on Senya’s face as she watched her son carefully.

“No.” He answered honestly, “If I were on my flagship, I could, but from here Vaylin was the one I left in control of the fleet.”

“Hm.”

“You said you wanted this to go the same way did you not?”

“I did, yes.” Kara huffed, “Thank you for reminding me, but I was hoping for a backup plan in case things go differently since they already have.”

“Then your plan wasn’t well thought out.”

“This was a spur of the moment plan, Arcann…” She shot him a look, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Can I talk to you?” she asked before leading him out into the hall and letting Koth work his magic. Senya followed them a moment after.

Once they were alone, or at least as alone as they could be on a ship bustling with people trying to tend to the wounded and figure out why exactly their enemy was on the ship with them, Kara finally spoke.

“There has to be something different, someone different and I need you to help me figure out who, or what, it is.”

“I’m not sure I would be able to since I’m a change to this am I not?”

“That’s-” she hummed, “That’s true I didn’t think of that.”

“Kara?” Senya spoke up as she approached. “Can I speak with you?” She shot a worried glance towards her son as Kara agreed and stepped away.

“Everything ok Senya? Did Koth manage to break through?”

“He seems to have, yes. But that’s not what I came to speak to you about.” Another glance towards Arcann, “How did you manage to convince him to stand down?”

“It’s a little complicated, but we worked out a deal.”

Arcann watched them speak, closing his eyes as what felt like a headache washed over him. He rubbed at his head, gently kneading at his temple with one hand. It faded after a moment but was followed immediately by another, causing him to huff in annoyance as he used his left arm to cool the exposed area he had just been kneading. Squeezing his eyes shut he attempted to will away the pain as it increased in severity and began to make him feel lightheaded.

Giving up his fight with the sudden pain he approached the pair of women, “Commander, I need to step away for a moment, can we continue this after?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course.” She had glanced at him before turning her attention back to Senya and then whipping her head back around. “Wait, ‘Commander’?”

He raised his exposed eyebrow, “Yes? Or did you not want me calling you that in public anymore?”

“No, no, why are you, I’m not the Commander yet. Are you alright?” she stammered out quickly.

"I have a headache, but yes, I'm fine." He glanced around noting the familiar walls, "Is this the Gravestone?"

"Arcann?" When he returned his attention to her, his visible eyebrow raised in silent question she continued. "You're the real one, aren't you."

"As opposed to a fake me?"

She shook her head, "Theron would be proud of you for that one I'm sure. I mean how are you here, in my dream?"

"Your dream?" He glanced around, noting the walls that were more worn than he remembered and the blue jacket Kara was wearing. Reaching up, he ran his hand along his mask, and connected the dots. "The nightmare you keep having…" He strode forward to put his hands on her shoulders, gripping carefully before pulling her close to him. "Why didn't you tell me that you kept dreaming about when I-"

She returned the embrace, cutting him off before he could continue. "And how exactly would I be able to tell you? Sorry for waking you and Theron up again for the 50th time, just had that dream of the time you almost killed me." She sighed, "I had hoped I could figure this out on my own, I finally managed to get you to work with me too. So much for that I suppose."

He released her, "Have you figured out what's causing it?"

"No, not yet. I was hoping you'd be able to get someone to slip up, whoever's causing this."

"Then I'll find them. I’ll keep acting like my old self, and watch for anyone who doesn’t seem like they belong.”

“Arcann…”

“It will be fine.” He assured her.

“Can someone explain what is going on?” Senya spoke up, “What are you two talking about? Dream?”

"It's a long story." Kara gave her an almost awkward smile. It was meant to be reassuring but she doubted she managed it.

"It will be fine, mother. We'll figure this out." He picked at the mask, the metal almost irritating after having gotten used to not wearing it for so long. "I'll scout the halls see if anything is out of the ordinary."

"I should go with you."

"No, Comman-. Kara. I'll be fine on my own."

"I'll go with him. It'll give us a chance to talk."

"Alright…" Kara sighed, giving in. "But if you see anything strange call my holo right away."

"Of course." He agreed, "Same frequency?"

"Yeah. And promise you'll be careful. I don't know what'll happen to you if something bad happens."

"I'll be fine."

"I'm serious Arcann."

He let out a breath and pulled her to him, leaning his forehead against hers. "I promise. As long as you do the same."

"I'll just wake up if something happens," Kara argued, but the sound of disapproval he made made her chuckle. "I'll be careful. And I'll call if I find anything on my end."

"Good." She couldn't see a majority of his face but the look in the eye she could see told her exactly what he thought.

She kissed his mask, chuckling at the look of frustration on his face before he turned and headed down the hall, Senya at his side already starting to ask him what would likely end up being a plethora of questions he was still avoiding from her when they were awake.

Turning she walked the opposite direction, passing various members of Koth's crew, a majority of which would join the Alliance, some refugees from Asylum, and even a handful of Knights that Senya had recruited when they were on Zakuul.

But nobody out of the ordinary.

Turning down another hall she found Lana talking to another Sith, something Kara wouldn't've paid any mind to except that there hadn't been any sith at asylum or zakuul from what she could remember. But she decided to play ignorant, for all she knew the sith had been there and she just didn't remember due to her injuries.

Approaching the pair, she greeted them, earning a concerned look from Lana and a blank one from the other sith.

"Kara, how are you feeling? Any better?" Lana gave her friend a once over as she spoke, scanning for any injuries.

"Fine, never better." She gave her a grin. When Lana gave her a look that made it clear that she didn't believe her, kara continued. "I'm fine, Lana, I promise. Was just doing some scouting, in case anyone got on board."

"While I appreciate it, you should rest."

"It's fine." She repeated, emphasizing the word fine. "I was hardly wounded and Arcann's helping."

"Something I do find interesting. How did you manage to get him to switch sides?" Lana crossed her arms as she spoke.

Kara shrugged, "I just got a way with words." She winked at her friend, before shooting a glance at the other sith who still stood there patiently.

The other sith was a short woman, shorter than Lana by almost a full head, and while she couldn't place her, she did note the look that flashed across her face at the mention of Arcann.

"We reached an agreement, he helps me with something and I do something in return. Simple as that."

"That is hardly simple given the trouble he's caused up to now. But for the time being, I'll trust your judgment." Lana grumbled.

Kara glanced over at the sith again, raising an eyebrow at the stare the woman had trained on her. "Lana, can I ask, who's your friend?"

Lana glanced over as well, noting the absolute focus the smaller sith had on her friend. "To be completely honest, I'm not sure. She joined us with the refugees from Asylum. We had only just started talking when you arrived. Why?"

"Could we speak a little more privately?"

"Of course." She let the other woman know she would only be a moment as the pair stepped away to talk. "What's on your mind?"

"Can sith…" Kara debated on how exactly to ask this without sounding crazy. "Do sith have the ability to influence dreams?"

Lana raised an eyebrow at that and crossed her arms as she answered. "Some can yes, as I'm sure some Jedi can as well. What makes you ask?"

"Well, this may sound crazy, but I think someone has been messing with my dreams, right now. Specifically making me relive the same event over and over."

"You're saying this is a dream, and you think that someone may be her," Lana stated, disbelief obvious in her voice.

Nodding, Kara continued, "The look on her face when I mentioned Arcann. That she was on Asylum when the only sith that had been there was you…"

"Maybe you should get some rest, Kara. I don't want to sound like I don't believe you, but perhaps you should sit down for a while and then we can talk."

Kara huffed in annoyance, "Fine don't believe me. I'll figure this out a different way." She said as she took a step back and pulled out her comm, calling Arcann. She started talking as soon as his holo image appeared. "Love, can you meet me in the-" her comm blowing up in her hand cut her off. Dropping the sparking device she glared at the other sith in the room, lightning still crackling from her extended hand.

"I would suggest you don't do that." She stated flatly.

Lana drew her lightsaber and stood to defend Kara as the smuggler returned the glare.

"Why?" Kara asked, placing a hand on one of her blasters.

"Really? You ask “why”?" The woman huffed, "Are you really so blind as to not know what your people think?"

"What are you talking about?" Lana narrowed her eyes warningly.

"She means my accepting Arcann into the Alliance…" Kara sighed, "I get it now, all this, making me relive this moment over and over. It's to get me to hate him isn't it?"

Arcann and Senya rushed into the room as she was speaking, weapons drawn. Noting Lana's defensive position Arcann took his own place in front of Kara, lightsaber in front of him with Senya taking a place off to the side ready to intercept.

The sith growled in annoyance, then turned and bolted out the door. Kara stopped her friends when they went to give chase.

"Don't bother. I know who she is so I can catch her when I wake up." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "Arcann…"

"No."

"It's the fastest way I can think of. Please, it'll be quick."

"What are you talking about?" Lana's voice was carefully neutral.

"I'm not going to kill you." He practically snarled. "I promised you I'd protect you from now on and-"

"And you promised to help me. This is the only way I've woken up from these dreams, just make it quick."

The look on his face broke her heart, but this was honestly the only way she could think of at the moment. He stepped to her, hugging her close and put the hilt of his lightsaber against her ribs, in the same spot that her scar rested.

"I'm sorry." Was all they could say as he ignited the blade, cutting through her like he had done on the control spar, only this time it made him sick to do so.

Pain flooded her system as she sagged against him, and everything faded to black.

Her eyes snapping open, Kara used all the energy she could muster to ignore the pain and hop out of bed. Arcann sat up a moment after, as she bolted across their room and out the door. He got up as well, pulling on a spare shirt as Theron sat up on high alert. Scanning the room for threats his expression only showing that he was still half asleep when he spotted Arcann.

"What's going on?" He asked, yawning and noting that their lover was gone, "Where's Kara?"

"She figured out the cause of the nightmares," Arcann grumbled as he pulled out one of Theron's shirts and headed for the door.

As soon as he said that, the spy was on his feet and following after him as both men chased down their Commander.

Further ahead Kara ran down the halls, her mind on a single focus, finding that Sith. So focused she didn't seem to notice the looks as she rushed her way through in her underwear. Not that it would've stopped her if she had.

Skidding to a stop she hit the button to open the door to where the force sensitives would spend time training or meditating. Striding into the room she glanced around from person to person until she found the one in question. The short woman rubbed her temples, obviously attempting to ward off a headache. She glanced up as Kara approached, the look on her face shifting from pained annoyance to something that bordered on fear as her commander strode over. She went to grab her lightsaber but Kara grabbed her by the collar yanking her to her feet.

"I knew I recognized you." She growled out. When she noticed the Sith gesturing for her lightsaber Kara turned and used the force to toss the shorter woman out the door she had entered through, earning gasps of surprise from the others in the room. Stalking forward she continued. "Explain yourself." When the woman remained quiet she gestured, pulling her to her feet using the force. "Now."

Glancing over at Arcann and Theron as they rushed over she smirked. "It's exactly as you said, Commander. I was trying to get you to realize how foolish it was to recruit him."

"By torturing me?"

"By making you remember! The pain he put you and everyone in the Alliance through. The threat he really is that so many seem to be forgetting."

Kara sighed, letting the woman drop to the floor. "I can't believe this…" she shook her head, "I haven't forgotten, even without having to relive it in dreams, I never forgot. I just moved on, I realized that he was worth forgiving. And that’s what you need to do too.”

The Sith snarled, “He took everything from me. My family, my wife, my son! Gone because of him! I spent the last five years learning from the sith to avenge them, betrayed everything I was taught as a Jedi for them. And then you go and forgive him? Why?”

Kara grimaced, the fight she had prior fizzling. This woman was willing to sacrifice anything for revenge.

“I stayed in the Alliance even after you accepted him because I thought you were using him as a tool to get to Vaylin. And when you let him stay free after, I stayed my hand because I was loyal. Because I thought you’d realize your mistake and remedy it. And when you still didn’t…”

“You took matters into your own hands.” Kara finished. “I get it. You felt slighted when I didn’t lock him up or kill him or what have you. I’m sure there are plenty who feel similarly to you. But you have to move on if you just stay wallowing in your misery because of one man, what will you do if he wasn’t around? If he did die, would you go back to living?”

“What?”

“Arcann is different than he was all those years ago. He’s not the same man that caused your family’s deaths. I’ve spent months by his side, I know-”

“Kara.” Arcann cut her off. He strode forward, putting a hand on her shoulder and gave her a look that made her take a step back. Turning his attention to the sith woman, the fallen Jedi, the mourning widow, he continued. “Nothing I, or the commander, can say will appease you. I understand. It’s not the same as what you went through, what I caused you to go through. But I understand.”

“You understand.” The sith scoffed. “You understand nothing.”

“I lost my brother, years ago, because of my father’s influence. I struck the blow, and I bear the shame, but I spent years of my life hating that man, striving to end his life with my own hands that I became him, became everything I hated. And caused people like you to become people like me, to be like Valkorion. The Commander and my mother saved me from that darkness, the same darkness you’re letting control you. If you-”

“Don’t.” She warned. “You can’t just go all ‘poor me’ on me and think I’ll change my mind.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” He frowned.

“He wants you to take a step back. Think. Not with your grief, but with a clear head.” Kara spoke up. “I lost five years of my life that I’ll never get back. I missed most of my sons' childhoods, their first experiences in life, I’ve nearly died multiple times. But I’ve moved on, I’ve accepted that a person can change, and he’s proven himself to be one of us. I’ve forgiven him for the things he’s done to me, and I’ve gained a valuable person by my side who’s managed to save my life more times than he’s tried to take it now.” She gave the woman a sad smile. “I’m not saying you have to forgive him, but take a step back. Look at the change he’s made, the people he’s helped since joining the Alliance. And think of your family, would they want to you to destroy yourself to avenge them?”

“I-” The sith huffed in annoyance. “Enough.” She pushed past them, striding down the hall. No one tried to stop her. “I’ll think on it.” She paused, “And I’ll leave your dreams be. It’s not worth the effort any longer.”

“Wait-” One of the onlookers called out, but Kara held up a hand to silence them.

When the Sith grumbled and started to leave she spoke up. “And Joy…” She paused, watching the woman carefully, “Feel free to come talk if you’d like. Sometimes a friendly ear can help. And there are many of those here, you need only ask.”

The sith, Joy, huffed again, but nodded and left them all standing there.

“Well, that was an event,” Theron spoke up. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine. And I think she will too eventually.” Kara sighed. “I know there’s lots of people in the Alliance like her, I just hope that they can all eventually move on from their pain before anyone gets hurt.”

“Like you.” Arcann pointed out.

“I’m hardly just anyone, I’ll be fine, that's what I’m here for, to take the heavy hits.”

“No, that’s what I’m here for.” He corrected. “And to remind you of this.” He said as he pulled the shirt he had grabbed over her head, pulling it down so she was at least somewhat covered. “While Theron and I appreciate seeing you like this, I’m not sure the entire base needs to.”

Kara chuckled as she maneuvered so she could slide her arms through the sleeve holes. “I knew I forgot something.” She teased. “Thank you. And thank you for helping me, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to figure it out without you. How did you get in my dream anyway?”

“Wait, you were in her dream?” Theron asked, “You can do that?”

“I don’t know. I was only half asleep when you started grumbling. The last time you had that nightmare you had an easier time when I was holding you so that’s what I did. And when I fell asleep I was on the Gravestone with a massive headache.” He explained. “I don’t know how, but at least it helped. And gave me a trial of telling mother about us.”

Kara chuckled, “I figured she was pestering you about that.”

“Yes. I don’t think I’m ready for it just yet.”

“Can’t blame you.” Theron said while yawning, “Talking to Senya does have an interrogation feel to it when she really wants to know something.” He stretched, scratching his neck as he cocked his head to the side, “I don’t know about you, but I’m going back to bed.”

“I think I will too, I could use the sleep.” Kara chuckled as the three of them headed back to their room. “It’ll be nice to sleep without bad dreams for once.”

“Agreed.”

[moon-mirage]

If you’re doing the Cresswell AU thing still, could you do Anastasia? I’ve just been obsessed with that movie/musical lately. Thanks!

Yay, I have so many thoughts about an Anastasia AU. It would be one I would love to write if I enjoyed writing more. :P But I think I came up with a pretty cool story and I hope you’re going to like it.

— — —

Have I watched the movie? Definitely! Several times. :)

Ideas from the movie I’ll use: A whole lot but I’m pretty sure I’ll come up with a few twists make as to not simply copy everything from the movie.

Ideas from the movie I’ll disregard: The magic stuff mostly (which I think the musical did too), and a few other things.

Background

Though I would love a historic setting I’m not sure that I would pick it for fear of getting a few things wrong (though I could place it in a  fictional country I guess). However, like with the Jerry Maguire AU, I could see it in TLC’s Third Era setting (minus Lunars) - I feel that gives me the opportunity to play with the Earthen countries and technology we have in TLC. So, once again, I would lean towards doing that.

Now, for the setting, I would keep it in the future version of Russia. I had some ideas and I’m glad I could find a passage from the book that kinda agrees with my take. What I imagine is that Russia can be part of both the European Federation AND the Eastern Commonwealth, The country is vast and culturally it can lean towards either Europe or Asia. Now in the books we learn that the “South Russia Province” is indeed part of the European Federation. That is something I personally don’t see depending on what counts as “South”. For me, futuristic Russia would be divided in the (North) Western Province (which is part of the European Federation) and the (South) Eastern Province which falls under the jurisdiction of the Eastern Commonwealth (and its monarchy).

Since I won’t have Lunars and glamour, I think I can be a bit more creative with the time period. Because in 126 T.E., which is when the canon books take place, the Earthen countries are largely at peace. Therefore, I would set the story roughly in the years following the Fourth World War that led to the Treaty of Bremen and Earth being divided into the six regions we know.

So we still have the same characters, technologies, countries, etc - it would just all happen around 100 years earlier.

As for the historic background that sets the things into motion, instead of the Russian revolution, the princess gets lost during the last battle during the Fourth World War between what was formerly known as Russia and China (before the peace treaty comes to pass). The Blackburns were the  former rulers (so they replace the Romanovs in this fic though I wish I could use a non-English name) before the invasion of the Huang line of China. The Chinese army wins the battle, therefore managing to expand the kingdom. What was formerly the Artemisia Palace is now the center of “New” Beijing, the New Beijing Palace. When the war ends and the six Earthen regions sign the Treaty of Bremen, what is left of Artemisia is now within the borders of the Eastern Commonwealth.

Basic Plot Outline

- The story starts thirteen years after the war has ended. Nothing is left of the Blackburn line (no documents, no images, etc) except rumors that the last heir, a daughter, might have survived, taken during the siege by a doctor/scientist in order to protect her. Where she was taken no one knows. Some say she was taken to the European Federation, growing up with the former lover of the doctor. Others think that she is still in the Eastern Commonwealth, raised by the doctor as if she was his own. Others believe she is kept under the exiled queen sister’s careful watch, preventing her from reclaiming her throne. Some say she was badly disfigured during the siege, others that she is a prisoner and others think she doesn’t know her true identity, living the life of a normal girl.

[As you can see and I’m spoilering now, the princess in question could be either Cinder, Cress or Scarlet. Since no one knows who the princess’s father is, there is a possibility that it’s one of the doctor/scientist mentioned here. That would leave either Logan Tanner, the doctor who smuggles Scarlet to France, Linh Garan who adopted Cinder or Dmitri Erland/Sage Darnel.]

- Many tried to find the lost princess, some to reinstall her on the throne, some for the reward money, some to make sure she never comes back in order to destabilise the current monarchy.

- One of the people looking for the lost princess is ex-cadet Carswell Thorne - for the reward money, of course. ;)

- He teams up with the cyborg mechanic Cinder (she takes in some ways the role of Vlad from the movie) who knows New Beijing better, trying to look for clues. Cinder only agrees to find that nebulous princess because Thorne promised her to take her to the European Federation - her only way to escape her stepmother Adri.

[Cinder would also meet Kai, the prince of the Eastern Commonwealth, so there would be some Kaider. ;)]

- Thorne actually has one good lead: A photograph Dr Dmitri Erland, the personal doctor to the royal family, has of the princess. The blue-eyed, blonde child has a remarkable resemblance to the girl he stumbled over at the marketplace earlier that day.

- For Thorne, it’s not important to actually find the princess. It would be enough if everyone thinks he did, earning him money and fame - what more could he ask for? (So, like Dimitri in the movie/musical, he didn’t actually expect to find the lost princess but someone he can pass off as her.)

- He finally finds the girl, Cress, again. She’s an orphan growing up in Mistress Sybil’s orphanage, not knowing who her parents are or where she came from. She’s strangely drawn to the old Artemisia Palace, recognising a few structures that were leftover from the time the Blackburn family ruled but not the ones build after King Rikan ascended the throne.

- Like in the movie, Thorne convinces Cress that while she might not be the princess, there is no reason to believe she can’t be. There is only one way to find out - find the last people connected to the Blackburn line who now live in Paris, France: Levana, the sister of the late queen and her step-daughter, Winter. Cress agrees so she can finally learn more about her past.

- Since Thorne thinks giving a part of the money to Cinder is already more than enough, he doesn’t inform Dmitri Erland. He, Cress and Cinder make their way towards France. [I assume they can’t use the Rampion because Thorne stole it like in canon? And maybe finding the princess is part of getting pardoned? Idk, but using the Rampion would mean they would reach France in ten minutes tops and that’s not enough time to develop my favourite slow-burn Cresswell romance. ^.^]

- Throughout their journey, Thorne tries to help Cress becoming more princess-like like in the movie. She somehow picks up some things quicker than he expected though: Getting Cinder to find out things about the customs and language spoken at the Blackburn court, Cress surprises Thorne by speaking Russian with the dialect of the royals (we know that in canon, while everyone speaks Universal, languages still exist), knowing the outline of the palace and some of the customs and even seems to recognise some people from images. Thorne starts to suspect that Cress is actually the lost princess.

- On their journey, Thorne takes his time showing Cress many things she missed out growing up in an orphanage. Cress starts to question if she really wants to be the lost princess despite having always longed for a home and family. For Thorne, the reward money suddenly doesn’t seem so appealing anymore since it would mean losing Cress. Slowly, Cress and Thorne grow closer, despite Cinder’s warnings, and finally fall in love.

- They are being followed and manage to escape the authorities Adri alerted to Cinder’s disappearance (who legally is her property). Soon, the royal family learns about the fugitive and the cyborg who think they have found the lost princess. While they are now the rightful rulers of the newly-founded Eastern Commonwealth, they know that a heir of the Blackburn line could threaten the stability of their kingdom and send out soldiers to intervene. [This storyline would replace the Rasputin one in some ways and would bring in Kai as a character too who, in canon, was also looking for the lost Lunar princess.]

- In the meantime, Cinder researches more about the lost princess and when they reach France, she separates from Cress and Thorne and makes her way to the small town of Rieux. She finds Scarlet whose grandmother had an affair with Logan Tanner, one of the royal doctors of the Blackburns. Due to the connections and secrets (there are no official birth records of Scarlet who wasn’t born in a hospital but at home), Cinder suspects that Scarlet too could be the lost princess.When special forces arrive to arrest Cinder, she and Scarlet flee towards Paris - and miss the hidden cellar underneath the house. The special forces though find it and send their findings, that Michelle Benoit indeed harboured the lost princess (then severely injured and disfigured in a fire that destroyed much of the old Artemisia Palace) to the E.C. royal family.

[I know Wolf’s heritage is Middle Eastern but I would still love him to be part of the E.C royal special forces. I mean it’s not like people can’t move and work elsewhere. And this way, I can include him in the story. So Wolf leads this operation to find the missing cyborg Cinder.]

- Cress and Thorne still haven’t talked about their future if Cress is the royal princess and what it would mean for their relationship. Instead, they focus on finding Levana Blackburn or Winter Hayle-Blackburn to confirm Cress’s identity.

- Dr Dmitri Erland too arrives in Paris. He heard about Thorne finding a girl that matched the description of the child in the photograph and is desperate to see her. Though he said that the picture showed the lost princess, it’s actually his daughter Crescent who got lost while the palace was attacked. He never lost hope of finding her; therefore, he tricked Thorne into believing that he was looking for the princess rather than his daughter, Crescent.

[I tried to play with the plot twist MM initially wanted to include more into her book series. Since we know TLC, the twist probably wasn’t hard to guess in my fanfic either but I really like that it’s a different take on the Anastasia storyline.]

- Thorne manages to corner the elusive Levana and tries to make her see Cress as he wants her to finally find her family and feels she deserves the life she was always meant to have. He tells her about Cress, Cinder and their journey together, shows images in hopes of convincing her. Levana refuses and gets Thorne thrown out. She then tells one of her henchman (Jacin) to find “Selene” and kill her.

- Winter, who overheard the conversation tries to find her cousin and best friend first and warn her. She and Thorne take off together to find Cress but Winder immediately knows that it’s not her “Selene”.

- That’s when they realise Cress isn’t the lost princess but Cinder. From Thorne’s story and images, Levana  figured it out too (she sees the resemblance between her sister Channary and Cinder) and sent out Jacin to get rid of her.  

- Jacin finds Cinder and Scarlet and they realise that he’s there to kill the lost princess. However, they think it’s Scarlet and Cinder tries her best to protect her but is no match for Jacin.

- That’s when Winter arrives and begs Jacin to spare Selene. The special forces arrive, some of them torn about what to make of finding the lost princess, Selene Blackburn, now a cyborg they have to apprehend. Kai gives the order that nothing should happen to her.

[It would lead to Selene coming back to the Eastern Commonwealth without any ambition to seize the throne. Instead, a Kaider romance would be implied in which she later becomes Empress, joining the two royal lines together.]

- When Dr Erland (Dr Darnel) Cress learns that she’s his daughter and is more than relieved to found part of her family. That also leaves her free to travel the world with Thorne like they did in canon and end similar to the ending of the movie Anastasia.

— — —

I know there are a few plot holes and loose ends but I really love the idea and I was almost tempted to write it. I like how I could mix the world building we have in TLC, and the plot of Anastasia with the one in the books surrounding the lost princess. So thank you very much for suggesting it. :D