#being freed and your daughter returned to you only for your husband to blow himself up

[highlifeboat]

Y'know what I'mma rant about this real quick.

(Spoiler warning, I guess for SoR, though it's mainly about Mia's non existent part)

Mia not having a role or being talked about much in the DLC is... actually baffling. The fact that Capcom basically took her and said "Yeah, she's just not a thing in Rose's life." is incredibly stupid.

Why has Rose not seen her mom in ages? Especially when Mia cared so much for her? Are they being kept apart? And if that's the case, why? Especially when Rose is allowed to attend a public school and just go out and so whatever. Unless Mia is being contained for some reason, it just doesn't make any sense.

You can argue Mia just up and left, but that feels so out of character when she clearly loves her daughter. Unless the Connections were catching up to her, she has no reason to leave.

The only thing I can think of is Chris and the BSAA keeping them separated for some reason. (Hell, maybe cause of the Connections?)

It just feels weird that there doesn't seem to be any kind of explanation for it as far as I can tell.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Destiny Has Other Plans | Loki x OFC (Alexis Randall) | Prologue

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him.  He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim.  An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond.  Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.  

After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds.  But it doesn’t mean he has to like it.   A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love.  Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life.  A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them.  Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst,  Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex

Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.  

-

“Your daughter seems quite taken with Loki.” Odin leaned over the side of his throne to comment to Freyr. The two glanced down at the two babies playing on the polished floor on the throne room in Vanaheim. The diplomatic trip had quickly devolved into a family reunion.

Freyr turned to smile at his cousin. “I was about to say the same thing to you about your young prince.”

Vanaheim and Asgard, although related by blood, shared a tenuous relationship. Wars plagued their history and more men, and women, had died than either king would like to admit. The two kings shared a knowing glance.

“Are you suggesting what I think you are, Freyr?” Odin smirked.

“I have suggested nothing.” The other king smiled.

“Perhaps our kingdoms could strengthen their bond through those two.” Odin stated.

“I’m listening.”

Frigga overheard the kings speaking in hushed tones. Gerth, Freyer’s wife, noticed as well how the two men gestured at the two babies. Frigga hoped Loki and Sjofn would become friends and companions, as they were both royal heirs to two of the most powerful kingdoms within the Nine Realms. She feared Odin’s wish was more diplomatic and more destructive.

“I do not like how our husbands seem to be speaking of the young ones.” Frigga leaned to whisper to Gerth.

Gerth furrowed her brow. “I agree. You don’t believe they would—”

Odin stood and knocked his specter against the hard floor. The sound echoed throughout the entire cavernous hall.

“The prince and the princess shall be wed upon the coming of age of young Sjofn, uniting the kingdoms of Vanaheim and Asgard!”

Freyr beamed next to Odin, soon standing to join him. The men clapped themselves on the shoulders, quite pleased with themselves as their wives gazed upon them horrified.

“Dear husband,” Frigga weaved her arm with Odin. “don’t you think it would be wise to not rush our son into an arranged marriage. Vanaheim and Asgard are at peace.”

“Do you question my judgment, Frigga? Yes, there is peace now, but its foundation is weak and unstable. Any slight could send us into another war. A war that would cost us the lives of many Asgardians.”

“I do not question you, Odin. I merely caution against toying with the affections of our sons and his future when he is not even old enough to voice opposition, let alone able to walk away from such an arrangement.”

Odin scoffed. “You fret over the boy. I am certain he will come to love the girl as much as I have learned to love.”

He kissed Frigga’s cheek. A peal of laughter cut the tension in the room, as Gerth argued with Freyr a few steps away. Four heads snapped to see Loki blowing kisses with his tiny chubby hand. Sjofn giggled each time, rocking as she sat.

“See?” Freyr gestured to the two of them. “They are already bonding. When will you women learn that we know best? Come Odin, I am in need of some fresh air and to stretch my legs. Leave our wives to coddle and fret over the babes.”

Odin laughed and followed Freyr out of the room, pleased the both of them. Frigga and insert crossed their arms.

“I will learn to listen when you actually do know what is best when it comes to matters of the heart.” Frigga scooped up Loki to cuddle him. “My darling son, I hope you find your true love, despite Father’s best efforts to prevent that.”

A Half Millennium Later

“Sjofn!” Loki called for her attention. Sjofn glanced up from her book with a look of annoyance.

“Yes?” Her voice dripped with disdain, uncharacteristic for someone so young.

“Check this out.” Loki twisted his hands and transformed himself into a snake for a few moments before returning to his Aesir form. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Hm.” Sjofn mumbled before returning to her studies.

Loki pressed his arms against his hips, huffing. “I would like to see you try.”

Sjofn waved one hand, holding her book with the other, and turned Loki into a snake, and then a frog, and then a squirrel, before returning him to his normal form. Loki stood before her, stunned. She giggled at the dumbfounded expression.

“What?” Her lips curled into a smile. “I’ve been doing that spell before I could walk.” Loki’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you just learn that?” Sjofn pushed back her soft brown hair from her eyes. “That’s so cute.”

“It’s not cute. I am a powerful sorcerer.” Loki’s voice holding a twinge of a whine.

“Yes, it is cute. It’s adorable.” Sjofn set her book down and stomped toe to toe with Loki. Even though she was older, Loki stood a full head taller than her. “In fact, it is hilarious you fancy yourself a powerful sorcerer.”

Loki stared into her light blue eyes. If he wasn’t so incensed, the mischief reflecting in her eyes would amuse him.

“Are you insinuating I’m not?” Loki puffed himself to his full height.

Sjofn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was no stranger to young boys and men trying to impress her. Her friends said they wished to catch her eye and win her heart, her hand in marriage, and all the power and prestige that goes with it.

“I will never marry.” Sjofn declared as she repeated the exchange to her mother over dinner that night. Her father was absent on a diplomatic trip.

“A funny statement coming from the goddess of relationships and love.” Gerth chuckled.

“I have not assumed my duties yet. Besides, who says I must wed in order fulfill those duties.”

“True.” Gerth smiled slyly. She had once said the same things to her mother. How quickly things changed when it came to matters of love. “But do not discard away things until you have experienced it.”

Sjofn rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“I am insinuating nothing. I am flat out saying it. You are not a powerful sorcerer. We teach these spells to Vanir toddlers.”

Loki’s face flitted between crestfallen and furious. “Not all of us are naturally gifted. Some of us have to work at our craft.”

Sjofn spun on her heels, the tips of her hair brushing against Loki’s chest. “Perhaps if you spent as much time studying and practicing your craft as you did on drinking, pranks, and romancing the young maidens, you would be the sorcerer you claim to be.”

Loki yelled in frustration. “You are impossible. There is no pleasing you.”

“Who says I need to be pleased?” She resumed prone position on the sofa.

Loki stalked towards her, his hips swayed. “Everyone desires pleasure, dove. Have you not read that in your books?”

Sjofn’s cheeks burned as Loki gazed down at her. He licked his lips, teasing. “Perhaps you need the right teacher.”

“You?!? I would rather kiss a snake.”

“That can be arranged.”

Sjofn stood up and stormed away. “I do not understand why our families insist on these little get-togethers. It is clear we have nothing in common.”

Loki laughed. “Well, you’re wrong. Because I agree with you about that, so we have that in common.”

“Good then, you stay out of my way and I will stay out of yours.”

“That is the first smart thing you have ever said to me.” The two parted ways.

With each visit to either world, the only feeling that grew between the two of them was disdain. Sjofn delighted in dressing down Loki, mocking his magic skills. Loki, meanwhile, taunted Sjofn at every turn. He enjoyed watching her pale skin reddened at his lewd comments. They hated the forced interactions but said nothing to their parents for fear of any reprisal.

Yet Another Half Millennium Later

The moment Sigrun entered the court, she captivated Loki. Word soon spread that the young prince sought to court the fair-haired maiden. The other young suitors backed off. Without the official blessing of the King, it forced Loki and Sigrun to court in secret. A horribly kept secret, but secret just the same. As the years passed, everyone in the palace expected an announcement regarding their betrothal at every ball or palace dinner. But no announcement was made. Loki and Sigrun grew more bold in their couplings.

“My prince.” Sigrun giggled. “They will find us.”

Loki nipped at her swollen lips. His entire body pressed hers against the cold stone of the pillar in the palace hallway. “That makes it all the much better. The thrill of being caught.” Loki’s cock strained against his leather pants. His hips bucking against her. She let loose a soft whimper.

“Loki…” she moaned as her hands tugged at his pants, struggling to free him. “I need you.”

Loki kissed her hard, his tongue demanding. Her hands freed him as Loki rucked up her skirt.

“My darling, Sigrun.” Loki cooed. “And I need you.”

As he plunged himself into her, Sigrun gasped, her head hitting the hard stone pillar.

“Yes, my love.” she moaned.

Loki snapped hard against her. “That’s it. Mold around my cock, sweet dove. You are so wet.”

Loki grabbed Sigrun’s leg, hooking it around his waist.

“Please Loki.” Sigrun pleaded as her orgasm drew close. “I need to…”

“Come undone for me, my sweet.” Loki adjusted his body to thrust deep into her, hitting that sweet spot.

Sigrun’s nails dug into Loki’s shoulders as she came. Her walls clenched around Loki. He soon followed her, spilling into her. Loki pressed his forehead against her.

He kissed her sweetly. “I love you, Sigrun.” Loki smoothed back her disheveled golden curls.

Her arms wrapped around her neck, burying her head into the crook. “And I love you.”

Loki’s heart swelled. “Then be mine. For always.”

Sigrun pulled back, staring at Loki in shock.

“Are you asking—”

“Marry me.” Loki’s nose nudged along her cheek, pecking along the smooth skin. “Be my wife.”

“But what of your father, he would need to approve of the union?” Her brows knitted together.

Loki’s lips pressed where the frown lines marred Sigrun’s face. “Leave Odin to me. Now is the answer yes?”

Sigrun hugged him tight. “Yes, yes, of course I will marry you.” She hopped in place.

Loki smiled down at her. “I will speak to him tonight after dinner.” He kissed her one more time. “I will come for you and we will celebrate properly. In my bedchambers.”

Sigrun shivered in anticipation. “Yes, my prince.”

Loki groaned. “You know what that does to me, sweet.” His hands fisted her dress. “I shall have to take you again, if you continue to speak in such a manner.”

Sigrun giggled. “I shall keep that in mind. But if I am gone much longer, they will notice my absence.” She did her best to straighten her hair and clothes and kissed his cheek. “Until tonight, my love.”

Loki’s hand held hers as she walked away, his fingers slipping away when she stepped out of range. He smiled, focused on her until she disappeared from sight.

-

“Absolutely not. I can not approve of this union.” Odin retorted cooly from his throne to Loki, who stood before him.

“Why not?” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Lady Sigrun is of noble blood. Her family is favored within the palace. I should think it would please you to see me settling down.” Loki lowered his voice. “Unlike Thor.”

“Your brother’s love life has no relevance in this matter. Lady Sigrun is a fine match.” Odin gripped his specter tighter, expecting a fight. “Just not for you.”

“And again I ask, why not?” Loki quickly grew more infuriated by the second.

“You are already betrothed.”

Loki blinked in disbelief. “I don’t recall proposing to another. Tell me, Father, who am I set to…” Loki’s face narrowed in realization. “… It’s Sjofn. What have you done, Father?!”

“Joined two kingdoms. Strengthened our rule.”

“By promising me to a woman I barely know?!”

“Because you choose not to learn anything about her! Sjofn will be your wife when she comes of age. That is the end of the discussion.”

Tears welled in Loki’s eyes. “And I get no say in the matter?! While Thor is allowed to whore around with whoever he chooses?”

“Has anyone stopped you from seeking the comfort of whatever young maiden caught your eye?”

“ Thor may marry for love, I can not?”

“Precisely. Your mother and I were not a love match. I imagine you too can learn to love Sjofn in time. And I expect you to behave on their next trip here in the coming weeks.”

“And if I don’t?” Loki spat out the words. If he dared, he would strike Odin. Hot tears stung his eyes. “If I refuse to marry her?”

Odin sighed. He had hoped Loki would approach the whole matter with a calm and collected manner. “You would be banished. For the good of the Nine Realms.”

Loki huffed before spinning on his heel. “Well, we wouldn’t want something as insignificant as your son’s happiness to interfere with the good of the Realm. Would we?” He slammed the door behind him, stomping off to his chambers.

He did not call for Sigrun that night. Or the next. Or even the next. Finally, on the fourth day, he sent a note indicating he no longer wished to marry her. Loki cruelly gave no further explanation, believing it would be better if Sigrun thought he rejected her rather than the truth.

-

“Why must I go to Asgard, Father?” Sjofn whined as her maids packed her luggage for the weeklong stay.

“Because it is your duty as my daughter to entertain other kingdoms.” Freyr sighed.

These trips between Vanaheim and Asgard tired both him and Sjofn. While Freyr and Odin hoped frequent contact between the two would spark something. They had not planned on that something being contempt.

Sjofn delighted in insulting Loki, particularly his magic prowess. While Loki ignored Sjofn entirely, his eye wandered to the nearest young maiden instead.

“Then why must I spend the trip entertaining Loki? Couldn’t I hang out with Sif or even Thor instead? Loki is such a bore.” Sjofn rolled her eyes and flopped down on her bed, hair crowning her head. “Or better yet, can we just tell them I am sick and unable to travel? I would much rather stay and be with my friends. People whose company I enjoy.”

Freyr’s patience gave out. “ENOUGH!!” Sjofn jolted upright. “You will accompany me to Asgard and I don’t want to hear another word about it!”

Gerth came alongside Freyr, placing her hand on his arm. His shoulders relaxed at the touch. “Tell her, darling. She has a right to know.”

Freyr nodded as Sjofn panicked.

“Tell me what? What have you done, Father?” She stood and walked towards her father, suspicious.

Freyr cleared his throat, tugging his tunic straight. “You’re old enough to know, but learn to like Loki, your future happiness depends on it.”

“Why?” Her head cocked to the side.

“Because you are promised to him.” Freyr winced for the outburst.

Those words hung in the air heavy as Freyr’s voice bounced off the walls of Sjofn’s bedchamber. She stumbled back as if shot until the backs of her legs hit her bed and she fell onto it. She muttered unintelligible gibberish.

“What did you do?” she hissed, narrowing her at her father, the king.

Hiding his fear of what his daughter might do, Fryer pulled to his full height and puffed out his chest. “I did what I needed to do to strengthen and protect our kingdom. An alliance with the Asgardians only benefits us?”

“By selling away your daughter’s heart and happiness?” Sjofn growled, her voice growing louder by the minute.

“By making a strategic relationship decision beneficial to all of us.” He stepped back and Sjofn rose to her feet.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Sjofn screeched. “I am not marrying Loki! I do not love him.”

“Since when does love have any sort of place in marriage?! You will not speak to me that way!” Freyr fired back. “I am not only the king of Vanaheim, but your father. I demand respect!”

Tears streamed down Sjofn’s face. “Respect is earned, Father! Never demanded! How could you? To your own daughter?!” She collapsed upon the bed, sobbing.

Freyr stood silent for a moment, sharing a glance with Gerth. “We leave in the morning. I expect you to be ready on time.” He turned on his heel and left Gerth in the room to comfort Sjofn.

Gerth sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her daughter’s back.

“Your father means well.”

“Did you know, Mother?” she snapped back.

Gerth nodded sadly. “Frigga and I tried to convince Odin and your father to reconsider. Allow you and Loki to grow to like each other naturally. To see if a love match could be made. But you know how it is when your father makes up his mind.”

Sjofn chuckled through her tears. “You would have better luck trying to capture the morning light in a jar.”

Gerth smiled. “Indeed. Is Loki really all that bad?”

Sjofn harumped to sit next to her mother, wiping away her tears. “He is arrogant, smug, and conceited. Loki cares more about what is between a woman’s legs than between her ears.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“You seem to be awfully perceptive about a man you despise.” Gerth couldn’t resist commenting, earning an eye roll.

“I only notice because it is impossible to ignore.”

“Whatever you say.” She kissed her forehead. “I will make your excuses for dinner, but you will have to travel tomorrow.”

Sjofn nodded, the tears threatening to fall once again.

“Try to find the positive of the situation.” Gerth commented before rising to leave. “Perhaps Loki is not the cad you make him out to be.”

“Yes, mother.”

Sjofn waited until she was certain her mother had left before hurling her pillow at the door.

“Fat fucking chance.���

-

Loki noticed Sjofn’s puffy and bloodshot eyes the next morning as he waited to receive her and her father.

“Have you been crying after me, darling?” His voice sounded sincere, but his smirk betrayed his true intentions.

Sjofn snapped back, in no mood to tangle with him. “Do not flatter yourself. If you must know, I was informed we are to wed.”

“Unhappy news indeed. I am afraid I was informed as well of our intended betrothal. Allow me to put your mind at ease, I have no intentions of marrying you.”

“Did you think I would marry you?! I knew you were arrogant, I did not realize you were stupid too.” Sjofn sneered.

Loki grabbed her and pulled her close. “Keep your voice down. I have plans already in motion to ensure my father no longer wields his power over me or any other subject. I would suggest we go along with this ruse until my plans are complete. Then you will be free to marry or not.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

Loki only smiled in response.

[ivyandink]

How The Ivy’s End - Season 1

it’s long af, so below the cut. at the end is a brief tldr; too for u instant gratification fans

Levi & Penelope

Levi and Penelope, after raising 4 kids together (Luna, Dorian [Penny + Zach’s baby, passed off as Levi’s], Morgan and Charlotte [Penny+Levi’s twins]), have a struggling relationship.

Levi is constantly trying to make things work, to make Penny happy, and to find the ‘spark’ they once had, in an attempt to revive their dead bedroom (yup!!! rip). Penny gets put on a project at work that has her teaming up with a legal consultant... none other than ex-boyfriend Justin Brees!

While Levi is struggling to work on his relationship with Penelope, raise his children, and manage his relationship with Luna’s mom Megan, Penelope is starting to feel things she hasn’t felt in a while-- but for Justin. 

When Levi and Penny’s neighbor hits on Levi one afternoon, after he rejects her she tells him she knows his relationship is falling apart-- she sees it, because so is hers. Turns out... she maybe have been right!! Penelope starts toying with the idea of breaking things off with Levi, to pursue Justin; the way she feels around him is just incomparable.

She’s ready to pull the trigger, and put an end to their ~4 years together when... Zach shows up. The father of her first child (who everyone thinks is Levi’s!), the man who spun a wild tale about a mysterious man he worked for, and some sort of danger which meant he had to disappear for a while. It took time, but eventually Penelope realized she’d been played. Zach, an avid reader nonetheless, made up a wild story all to avoid responsibility. 

Or did he.....?

Feeling the pressure and a surge of emotions from Zach’s return, Penelope finds comfort in the familiar, and reels herself back in from breaking things off with Levi. Together, they try to determine what to do about Zach being back in the picture, and wanting to meet his son. Penelope is adamant that she doesn’t want to give him a chance, but Levi, despite how much he wants to agree with her, can’t, after having experienced what it was like to not be able to see your own child. He urges her to hear Zach out, at the very least.

And when she does, it turns out... Zach’s story wasn’t as farfetched of a lie as she thought. He was on the hook for partaking in a money laundering scheme, through his business, Scratch Publishing. He’d fallen into the scheme thanks to a man he met and befriend in his NA group-- Michael Windsor. By the time he’d realized what was happening, he was in too deep to safely get out. That was why he’d pushed Penelope away in the first place, broken up with her over something trivial, and run when she’d told him about the baby. He couldn’t risk bringing her down with him. Thankfully, the statute of limitations on money laundering was five years, and with a solid four under his belt and no red flags or contact from Mr. Windsor, he figured it’d be safe to come back.

In awe of his words, Penelope’s harsh demeanor starts to slowly dismantle. The thing she’d always held against Zach was his abandonment, his betrayal, and how much he’d broken her heart when she was certain they were truly, deeply in love. How did she feel about him now that it turned out all of that was to protect her?

Slowly, but surely, Penelope allows Zach back into her, and Dorian’s life. Zach and his son bond almost instantly, which is both heartwarming and troubling. Dorian had been raised thinking Levi was his dad... what were they to say now? For Levi especially, it was hard seeing a child he’s come to see as his own, be taken away... rightfully so, by his biological father... but nonetheless, it wasn’t easy. Especially not for a second time. Within himself, now Levi has to grapple with the dilemma of how to tell his entire family he’d lied to them for four years...

Eventually, he tells them all, and once the chaos and confusion of it all blows over, things start to settle into a nice (albeit, strange) routine with Levi, Penelope, Zach and Dorian. As Zach grows closer with his son, he grows closer with Penelope too-- the old inside jokes, the literary references, the intimate teasing they’d once had together, all slowly starts to come back. Meanwhile, Justin is still spending late nights working with Penelope, and talking to her far too much to be considered strictly professional. Oh, and she’s still with Levi, and raising four children with him....

Levi, focusing on his family and his career, is presented with the opportunity of a lifetime. An international trip, to photograph at some of the top fashion events in Paris. He knows it’d be a game changer for his career, but declines the offer, in favor of staying home, where he can keep an eye on his kids, and more importantly, his relationship, which seems to be falling apart at the seems, and slipping through his fingers like water. (Somewhere in there, Luna gets into child modeling lol.)

After months of battling her emotions, dealing with the revisiting of old feelings of abandonment with Zach (both romantic and parental... him leaving Dorian mirrors her own father leaving her much to much for comfort) and trying to make the best decision not only for herself, but for her family(s?), Penelope decides to end things with Levi. She realizes that if she is feeling so conflicted (and over three men, at that!), that Levi deserves better. She jumped head first into motherhood at such a young age, and lost herself in the tumult of it all. She needed time to be alone-- no Levi, no Justin, no Zach-- to be herself for once, and find out who that woman was. 

....to be continued...

Violet & Jordan

Vi and Jordan couldn’t have a more perfect life. A beautiful daughter, a brand new home, a fancy lifestyle, and a brand new baby boy on the way to complete it all. There had never been a couple more in love in the history of time than Violet and Jordan-- that’s what they like to think anyways.

Their biggest crises is Jordan’s desire to start his own business. After near a decade of working in restaurants, and five years managing one, and a lifetime interest as a hobbyist chef, Jordan realizes that his biggest dream is to open his own catering company. There’s only one problem-- it’s expensive. And truth be told, with an obstetrician for a wife, Jordan isn’t exactly the primary breadwinner in his family.

With a mountain of medical school debt still to be paid, two brand new cars, a brand new house, and two children that need college funds, Violet is gun shy over Jordan’s new proposal. Jordan takes this to mean that his wife doesn’t believe in him, which ensues a few nights of arguments, cold shoulders, and sleeping on the couch (J, not Vi, of course).

But suddenly, that all becomes trivial when Jordan gets a phone call..... his father has died. This news rocks his world. His father had never been much of a father to him, and in fact, had been his abuser growing up. As soon as he was old enough, he’d cut ties with both his parents and got the hell out of dodge. He is filled with a strange feeling-- not quite sadness, but not relief, but a weird mixture of the two. His grieving mother begs him to come home for the funeral. For the moment, Vi and J set their disagreements aside, and say goodbye as Jordan leaves his very pregnant wife to catch a flight to Willow Creek.

To put it simply, this is an intense experience for Jordan. Being back in a place he associates with his terrible childhood, in a place he hated and couldn’t wait to run from...He hardly knows how to process it all. He is happy to see his mother, and grateful now she can be free from her husband’s abuse, too. Except... she’s not happy he’s gone. She doesn’t see herself as freed-- she would’ve defended her husband until the grave, no matter how many bruises he left, and she did exactly that. Jordan decides to stay for the week, and help his mother get everything in order, despite it all.

As he spends time in Willow Creek, he is reminded of the crew he used to run with as a teen and young adult-- people he hardly recognizes now. Except maybe... Cami. Cami had been his ex girlfriend, on again off again sort of situation. They’d dated throughout high school, and after he’d broken up with Violet to give her a better shot at life (thinking, wrongfully, he’d hold her back), Cami was the woman he turned to in his time of heartbreak. Feeling stranded and alone in Willow Creek, with his mom blaming him for his father’s death, and generally feeling like he’s at a crossroads in his life, Jordan ends up humoring Cami’s insistence on hanging around.

Cami knew what it was like. She got it. In ways Violet never could. She'd been hurt by her parents too. She’d grown up in a rough part of town, got involved with the wrong people and the wrong things, just like he did. In a way, they were kindred spirits-- it why they always found their way back to each other, despite how toxic it always ended up being. And if there is one word to describe Cami, it is determined. She is determined to get her way.

She calls him JJ-- his old nickname, that he now despises and associates with his tumultuous youth. She tries to remind him of who he was, and still is, deep down. Who they were together. She tries to tell him that this new life he’s got? It’s not him. It’s that boujee bitch wife of yours, JJ. I bet she don’t even understand you-- bet she doesn’t even get how you can miss someone even when they’ve hurt so bad... bet she said ‘good riddance’ when you told her the news. She doesn’t get you JJ, not like how I do... how I always did.

She comes on to him, pushing herself against him. Jordan gets angry, tries to push her off of him. She goads him on. What’re you gonna do, baby? Hit me again? Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree I guess, JJ. That was one time Camille. One time. I am nothing like him. No baby, you’re not... mmm.. not at all. Shhh, it’s okay, don’t cry. I’m here. I’m here. I’m never leavin’ you JJ, not ever again. 

In a moment of incredible vulnerability and weakness, Jordan relents to her seductions. But... only momentarily. It doesn’t take long for him to realize what is happening-- he pushes her off of him and storms away, as she cries out his name. Disgusted with himself, he immediately goes to call his wife. He breaks down, sobs shaking his body, as he tells Violet everything. Except the other end of the line stays silent... Don’t bother coming home, Jordan. There’s nothing for you here anymore. Stay the fuck away from me.

Cheating was the one thing Violet would never, ever stomach. She hangs up the phone, stoic and stiff as a rock, and then collapses into tears, crying on her beautiful, marble kitchen floors. She she looks around her home, she sees Jordan everywhere. She sees the life they’ve built together over the years. And she knows she can’t stay there for the night. Violet packs a bag for herself and her daughter, drops Willow off with her mom, and heads to Wes and Nate’s place to get away for the night.

...to be continued...

Wes & Nate

Wes and Nate, after four years of marriage, are ready to grow their family. With both of them working good jobs, and a townhouse in a nice enough part of the city (that Nate’s parents may or may not have helped out with...), they figured it was time. Of course, the pleading mothers on both sides of the family didn’t help matters!

Turns out, however, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to adopt a child, especially as a gay couple. Agency after agency has turned them down-- either because they don’t work with gay parents, or because they say they’re just ‘not the right fit’ (code for: you’re gay but we’re scared to say that’s our reasoning). The few agencies that have been willing to work with them are still struggling to pair them with a birth mother. Possibly because despite both of them having good jobs, neither has a college education. Or possibly because on more than one occasion, Wes had dropped an f-bomb during the interview process. Or possibly.... Weston’s questionable family history, and his father being a convict-- which came up on several occasions. 

Feeling depressed and defeated, Weston’s connects with Nate’s sister, Thalia, who is also struggling to conceive with her husband Gianni. Neither of them thought they’d ever really want kids one day, and here they are, both in their feelings about not having them. They have their heart to heart, as it feels like the only person who truly gets it is each other. The feeling of letting their partner down, over one of the biggest things.

Despite Wes and Nate’s growing frustrations, they try and stay patient. And finally, it seems to be paying off! A birth mother has agreed to match with them! Finally, it seems they have conquered the beast.

Until..... she changes her mind, and rescinds the offer, after finding out about Weston’s absent dad. Failure, again. They both know there is nothing they can do to change the sort of childhood Wes had, and that it has no bearing on the types of dads they will be-- it’s just a matter of time until they match with someone who won’t hold that against them. But it inspires Nate to bed the question to his husband... should he try and reconnect with his dad again?

It had been years of avoidance since the last time Steven showed up in Weston’s life. He’d avoided him then, and ever sense. But now, with the topic coming up over and over again, he does feel compelled to reach out. It doesn’t take long to get his number from his mom; he finds out he lives just a few hours away, and they schedule to meet somewhere in the middle.

And for the first time ever, Wes willingly confronts his father. His whole life, he’d built him up to be some kind of monster, and he can’t tell if he’s disappointed or just plain sad to see the man his father has actually become-- a tired, old, cracked out looking man with shaky hands. 

As they talk, Steven apologizes for never being a dad to him, but also admits that he never wanted to be a dad-- not then and not now. The times he reached out years ago, he was just hoping to get to know his kid, as a fellow adult, not like some mentor or fatherly figure. That was a role Steven never did well in. Steven tells Wes how despite his actions, he really did care for him, and his mom, Daria, and he’d cleaned up his act ever since he got out of prison. He confesses that he might not be the best grandfather in the world, but says he is willing to try, if Wes is willing to bring his child around him, one day (despite the fact that Steven gets visibly uncomfortable referencing the fact that Wes is, indeed gay and married to a man). With mutual understanding and no more hard feelings, the men shake hands and part their separate ways.

And as if by some kind of strange magic... Wes and Nate get paired with a birth mom just a few weeks later. Although this time, they know better than to hold their breath, there is something different about this woman and this situation that feels... right.

...to be continued...

Wrap It All Up

Jordan has returned home, Violet is still refusing to forgive him, and only seeing him when they exchange their daughter. Inside, both of them are absolutely crushed, but neither of them knows how to begin to fix the wreckage. Jordan has been coping with all the old dirt his father’s death and trip back home stirred up in himself, and throws himself into developing his business idea. He’s added onto it-- not only will it be a catering company, but he will specifically try and work with at-risk youth. Kids from bad homes, and bad situations. Even with no financial backing, he decides to take the risk and go for it.

Penelope, discovering herself as a single woman and trying to cope with the tremendous emotions she’s been having, is finally starting to find her footing. She’s finally figured out a good childcare schedule with Levi, she’s thriving at work, and she’s starting to see herself-- and what she wants-- clearer. She ends things with Justin (or what little had ever been there) once and for all, and finds herself spending more and more time with Zach, out of desire and not just necessity. With all of her reasons to hate him melted away, the feelings of love she thought were gone start to come back. And-- surprise, surprise-- they’re returned.

Violet has been staying with Wes and Nate, and celebrating with them over the news of matching with another birth mom. She’s been helping them coordinate with her, send her the right sort of items, and prepare their future nursery. One night, her and Wes are up late, talking, as they usually do. And finally Wes tries to approach to touchy subject of her marriage. 

Wes looks at Vi, and point blank, asks her if she wants to divorce Jordan. Instantly, she says no. That tells Wes everything. He urges her to forgive Jordan-- he made a terrible, awful mistake, but he immediately tried to do the right thing. He stopped it before it went further, and his first thought was to lay it all on the line to Violet, not hide it. Wes gently reminds her of the time when she cheated on jordan... with himself. It had just been a kiss, but that was besides the point. When the little secret had finally come out, Jordan had laughed, and been more so annoyed that she was never honest, and less about the actual kiss. Violet insists that was soo different, which Weston concedes to. But still, he urges her to find it in her heart to forgive Jordan. He’s a good man, a great father, and they are truly in love-- they shouldn’t throw it away over one lapse in perfection.

Violet considers Wes’ advice... and heeds it. She goes home one day, when she knows Jordan will be off work, and finds him in the once-pristine kitchen, surrounded with food and bowls and tupperware and tomato sauce strewn just about everywhere. It catches her off guard. She laughs. And then she cries. Then she goes to her husband, wraps her arms around him, and tearfully whispers, What the hell are you doing to my kitchen, Jordan?

Jordan tells Violet about how even if he doesn’t know the financial details yet, he’s going to make his catering business happen; he tells her about the change in plans, spurred by his own troubled teenhood. As she listens to him talk about his life, his dreams, and his passion, she cries harder; she realizes that maybe she never did know this part of her husband. Maybe he never shared it, but maybe she never asked. Again, he apologizes for what happened in Willow Creek. She apologizes for her reaction, and for never taking the time to get to know the rough corners of her husband. As they kiss and makeup, Violet decides that they will tackle this catering business-- together.

Levi, more than anything, feels tired. He feels beaten down. The stress of raising four children. His relationship with Penelope falling apart despite how hard he tried to make it work. Watching Violet and Jordan’s strong marriage falter and almost crack, and Wes and Nate struggle to grow their family... It’s all too much for him-- a man notoriously always looking for love (in all the wrong places..). But, it’s even harder watching all those people around him re-find their love, and peace and happiness... while his still lies dormant. As summer draws near in the wake of the hardest year of his life to date, he decides to finally do something just for him... he calls up his boss, and last minute, takes up the offer to travel to Paris for the international project.

Violet goes into labor, and gives birth to her and Jordan’s second child, and first son. They also officially file for the name of his new catering business.

Nate and Wes fly across the country to be present for the birth of their son, grateful that things didn’t fall through this time.

Penelope and Zach finally make things official.

And in Paris, Levi scouts the streets, following the directions scrawled out on a sheet of torn paper, until he finds it. 

He knocks on the door. And Marie opens it.

////////////////////////////

tldr;

Penny has a lil love triangle with Levi/Justin/Zach. She breaks up with Levi to be single, but ends up with Zach.

Jordan cheats on Vi in a moment of weakness with his toxic ex after the death of his abusive father, but they eventually make up, and he starts a catering business and vows to hire at-risk youth.

Wes and Nate struggle to find a birth mom to adopt from, but finally, it all works out and they have a son.

Levi gets fkin WRECKED emotionally (karma fro, everything perhaps??? lool) , and ends up in Paris, knockin’ on Marie’s door. ;)

There was supposed to be a season 2, as well, which details what happens the next year, after all of this.. :) Primarily focusing on Levi + Marie, and what happens with them, and also Luna’s story! May or may not make a post for that one. Season 2 wasn’t as fleshed out. 

Most important detail I guess is that Levi and Marie end up together lol. 

~*~spoiler~*~

[chloca-cola]

The Intern Part 3

Ok...I may have gotten carried away with this one, but I was really getting into it

TW: teasing, blow job, hand job...smut, yall know the drill.

Word count: 2,361

~~~~

You sighed in an extremely tired fashion, leaning back in your chair and stretching. It was Friday thankfully, and you were about to get two days off, and to say you were relieved would be an understatement.

Greta still gave you many side-eyed glances after having basically been put in her place from Leon pulling you away from her snide comments a few days prior. 

Rumors had begun to fly now after said incident; from innocent to the truth. The innocent rumors were actually kind of adorable, saying he just had a soft spot for you, and maybe he has an office crush on you. 

But, then there was the one that was the truth. 'Well I heard from so and so that's close to his office that they have sex in there.' and you even got the satisfaction to hear some of the women tack on 'lucky bitch!' at the end.

You had to play it cool, you only admittedly skimmed through the employee handbook, but you were sure that fraternizing was means of termination, like any other office setting. Especially since this wasn't just any office. 

The phone on your desk began to ring, startling you from your thoughts, and you answered it, nearly dropping the receiver back down in your haste. 

"Hello, Divisions of Security Operations, this is (y/n) and I'll be happy to assist-"

"Hey, no need for formalities." It was Leon, that's when you noticed the light on the phone that indicated he was calling from his office and you blushed heavily. 

"Sorry, sir. What can I get for you?" You placed your forehead in your hand, embarrassed that you hadn't been paying more attention and were once again lost in your thoughts. No wonder fraternizing was frowned upon. 

"Actually, I was wondering if you could bring me something from the break room." You lift your head back up, furrowing your brows in confusion. 

"Of course." Delivering snacks wasn't exactly in your job description, but your assuming he's requesting this over the phone to hide his true intentions. 

"Coffee, like I like it." You purse your lips together, he had always brought you coffee, you had no clue how he liked his. 

"Right away, sir." You replaced the receiver in it place and stood, still a little confused by this odd request, and you could feel Greta's eyes on you.

"In trouble are you?" She snarled, and you rolled your eyes as you walked past her desk.

"You wish."

You lightly knocked on Leon's door which was slightly ajar, before pushing it further open. He looked up at you from his own work, a slow smile spreading across his face, which you returned a bit more shyly, holding up his coffee.

"Now that I've got you in my office," Leon began as you closed the door behind you, he stood and met you halfway, cupping your face and kissing you sensually. "I can ask you what I really wanted to." You were dazed by the kiss you had just received, still trying to hand him his coffee which caused him to chuckle. He took the cup from you, setting it on the table beside you both. "I was wondering if you wanted to come to my place for dinner tonight?" You blinked a few times, trying to clear your head and decide if he really just asked you that.

"What?" You asked a little too dumbly, causing you to blush, and he chuckled again, shaking his head slightly.

"Dinner. My place. Tonight?" He asked, slowly, teasing you, his thumb tracing gently over your bottom lip, the action causing goosebumps to pepper your skin.

"Yes, of course. I'd love to." He gave you a genuine smile that caused a warm healing to erupt in the pit of your stomach. 

"Great," he proclaimed, releasing you so he could jot down his address on a scrap piece of paper, folding it and holding it between his index and middle finger towards you. "Be there around 7?" You nod as you take the paper from him, smiling.

"It's a date!" 

*

You were nervous, and honestly you weren't sure why, you'd already had sex with him, twice, dinner should be the easy part, right? You sighed as you sat in your car, looking at the elevators on the far side of the parking garage of Leon's apartment building, trying to swallow your nerves.

Finally you left your car, moving towards the other end of the garage, still looking at the paper, seeing his number was 809, when you bumped into someone.

"Holy shit, I'm so...Leon! Jesus, sorry for running into you." You apologize profusely, causing him to chuckle.

"It's ok, it's a little past 7, thought I'd come down here to check if you were here." You blushed again, you didn't realize you had sat in your car for so long.

"Yeah, it's actually a funny story. I'm nervous." You sputter out a laugh to match how nervous you felt, and Leon shrugged.

"Sex is easy, feelings are hard." He pointed out understandingly, before placing a hand on the small of your back, leading you towards the elevator. 

That's when your brain froze, did he say feelings? It was obvious now that you looked back on it, you were beginning to develope feelings for him. Does this mean they're being returned from him?

Inside the elevator, the only noise was the terrible music wafting through the speakers above your heads. However, it didn't take long for Leon to crowd you into a corner, gripping your wrists and holding them over your head as his lips met your in a fiery hunger, his tongue already probing against your own, causing you to moan needily.

Leon was making a content noise low in his throat that was similar to noises being made by someone who hasn't had sustenance in days. The sounds caused waves of pleasure to crash over you, settling in your core. Shivers were crawling up and down your spine as he pressed himself into you more, his hands leaving your wrists, so his fingers could lace with yours.

The ping of the elevator brought you both out of your euphoric state, both looking at the door to see a sweet older lady smiling at you both.

"Oh, don't mind me, I'm just here to visit my daughter." She stated as she joined you both on the elevator, you were blushing wildly as Leon backed away from you, still holding one of yours hands, as you wiped your mouth off. "I remember when my husband Harold and I first met, God rest his soul. We were just like you two, couldn't keep our hands off each other." 

You smiled up at Leon who was pinching the bridge of his nose, his jaw muscles bunching and flexing in annoyance, his eyes squeezed shut tightly, still facing the back wall, so he could hide the bulge tenting his pants. He groaned as the lady continued to talk about her Harold, Leon laid his forehead on yours.

"Harold sounds wonderful, lady." He snipped, and you stifled a laugh, as the lady didn't even notice the sarcasm dripping from his words. 

You decide to have some fun, and you palm his cock through his jeans, causing his body to jolt, and his eyes flew open, a loud groan that he couldn't stop escaped him. 

Leon gave you a warning look, which you didn't heed, slowly rubbing along his hardened member, enjoying teasing him like this more than you probably should. The elevator stopped again.

"Ok, you two love birds, this is my floor, I hope you enjoy your evening." She stated, as she exited, Leon tossed his hand up, not even looking over his shoulder. 

"Yeah, ok, see ya." His voice was strained, and as soon as the elevator doors closed again, you slipped your hand into his pants, finally touching skin to skin. His face lifted towards the ceiling and he moaned, his hips bucking involuntarily. 

You freed your other hand from his grip to begin unbuttoning his shirt, so you could run your tongue along his chest, before sinking your teeth into his warm skin. Leon hissed, the elevator finally reached his floor, you reluctantly removed your hand from his pants and he all but yanked your arm out of its socket, hurrying towards his apartment.

"So what are we having for dinner?" You ask, still teasing him relentlessly as you dodged his attempts to kiss you, and you laughed at his growing frustration, growling rumbling deeply in his chest as he chased you. Finally having enough, he cupped his hands under your arms and lifted you slightly, pinning you in place with his hips against the wall. You giggled against his mouth and you wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him.

"Wait, wait." He paused, breathing heavily, placing his forehead on yours again, his fringe of bangs tickling your cheek, causing you to shiver. "Not here, I want you in my bed." A shudder shocked through you at the huskiness in his tone, barely being able to contain how turned on his was. He gave you a soft singular kiss, before you removed you legs and he lowered you gently back to the floor.

Taking your hand again, he lead you to his bedroom, closing the door behind you both, and he wasted no time stripping you of your clothes. Articles were being shed and tossed about his room, as you made your ways towards the bed, were you pushed him onto his back.

Your hand grasped his cock gently, drinking in Leon fully naked for the first time, you dipped down and kissed along his hip bone as you continued to work him, before swiping your tongue from the base of his cock to the tip. He was watching you intently, before his head fell back and pushed into the mattress. A groan filled the room as your lips enclosed the head of his cock and you traced your tongue teasingly around it. 

You hollow your cheeks, slowly taking more of him in, firmly running your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, and you feel him start to shake beneath you. His hand had a death grip on his sheets, his knuckles white in the effort it took to not thrust up into your mouth. He was gasping, sounding much like several 'ah's in a row, as he began to squirm as you bobbed your head on him.

Your name fell from his lips along with curses, and it was then you realize just how much he held back in his office.

"(Y/n), (y/n), please." His voice was needy as he begged, finally thrusting his organ into your mouth, causing you to gag on him. "Please…" You release him with an obscene pop and he whimpers and collapses into a needy heap as you left him teetering on the edge.

"Please what, sir?" You purr, stroking him slowly, but stopping occasionally to keep him in the edge longer. His entire body was trembling, shuddering gasps leaving him, as he looked at you pleadingly. "This is such a beautiful look on you." You positioned yourself on all fours, slowly crawling up his body, leaving a trail of kisses along his toned abdomen and chest, licking up his neck, over his chin where you finally kissed his lips and he whined desperately into your mouth.

Leon grabbed your hips and in an instant you were on your back, you squealed at the sensation, as his knee spread your legs for him.

"I can't take anymore, I need you." The emphasis he put on the word 'need' caused your own desperate whine to sound, as he pinned your wrists above your head again with his left hand, using his right to grip the headboard of his bed after chanting your hips up, and he slammed himself into you.

Your head pushed down hard into the pillows, keening loudly at the sudden delicious intrusion. More desperate gasping erupted from Leon, as he closed his eyes and held back his orgasm again, his entire frame shaking above you.

"Goddamn it." He growled through clenched teeth, and he finally released the breath he was holding in. He finally started moving again, jackhammering into you, causing you to scream out in pleasure, your nails digging small crescents into your palms as you longed to scratch your nails down his back. The headboard he was clutching for death life began to knock against the wall loudly and with such force you were afraid it was going to punch a hold into the wall.

"I'm so fu-ah-cking close. Hnng, please tell me you ah-are." He asked through groans and heavy breaths, and you nodded, not trusting yourself to even be able to talk. He began thrusting faster, your back arched and your toes curled as his cock hit you just right and you saw stars, screaming out his name. He followed house over the edge, his body convulsed are against yours, his own releasing groan coming out louder than your own, followed by several strained groans with every pulsing wave that hit him.

Leon fell limply on top of you, breathing extremely heavily, and you could feel his heart hammering in his chest. you both jumped with the phone next to his bed started ringing. He groaned, not wanting to leave your heat, and answered.

"Hello?" He panted out, and you rubbed your wrists, getting the blood flow back. "No, I'm completely fine, Mrs. Smith. I'm not hurt. No need to call anyone. I promise." You covered your mouth, trying to not snort as he assured his neighbor there was no emergency here. He disconnected the call and flopped on to his back beside you before you both started laughing loudly.

"Guess I really got you worked up, huh?" You tease him as you roll over to curl up next to his side. You absently traced your fingers along different scars on his sinewy chest, wondering what stories were behind them all, as sleep slowly claimed you both.

~~

@imagineleonkennedy @mitsuintheworks @kezikatescribbling @pokemeg @savage-rhi @disneymarina @locus-desperatus @crystaldwightsworld @guettaes @nthevalkyrie @sleepygal124 (I hope I didn't forget anyone)

[shewhowasbornlucky]

Bonded

Read on AO3

Life has given them all another chance. Old wounds are hard to fix.

It was at the twilight of their lives that dishonored Prince and powerless, former Fire lord Ozai met Lady Ursa again. His cell was dark – it was always so dark he could not see past his own nose – but he needed not light to see who the person in front of the bars was. Her perfume filled the air, and it was as if time hadn’t passed between them. The scent carried memories he had sworn to forget.

He breathed, and hated every second how fire no longer escaped from his lips.

Ursa had to squint to see him. Coming from the outside, where the sun shone as bright as ever, her husband’s cell seemed like a nightmare. She could make his form, though. His shoulders were still broad, although she was sure exercise was out of his routine. His hair had grown so long it reached his hips – lifeless and disheveled, it resembled a mop more than a prince’s pride. She recognized him nonetheless; his eyes were just the same; fire gleaming in the dark. The Avatar could take the fire from his very soul, but he could never take it away from his eyes.

She had loved the man before her with everything she had. Had imagined ruling by his side, feeling his warmth caressing her. Ursa imagined them both behind the fire curtains of the throne room.  Their destinies were joined from the moment they locked eyes for the first time! He gave her a golden crown, and she gave him a piece of her mind, and two beautiful children. She imagined waking up every single morning, until her dying day, in his arms.

Nothing felt any better than that.

Their children would be conquerors – their children would be legends. Hymns would be written about their greatness, and he would put the entire world at her feet. He would love her as much as she loved him, and nothing else would ever matter. They would be terribly, utterly happy, as it should be. As she had always dreamed.

But those were the dreams of a naïve girl. The fantasies that were stripped from her the very moment she made her best blend for her Fire Lord Azulon. The very same day she heard her daughter’s words on her husband’s order to kill his own blood. The day she came into their chambers and saw him looking through his knives.

She took a step forward, and pulled down her cloak. Her hair, before a lovely shade of brown, had gotten grey – it reached her lower back, and seemed to flow like silk or liquid. His hands ached with the yearning to bury his fingers in it. It was always soft, and it always smelled of orange blossoms.

“You have returned to me,” the disgraced man said– his voice a mere whisper. A cough follows his words; he had forgotten what it was like to talk to someone.

Ozai did not dare hope for a response. He knew she was a creature straight from his dreams, but he was tired, and he was done, and he was never known for keeping himself from indulging in his pleasures. He took a deep breath, and marveled at the vivid smell of her. If it was a dream, he hoped to never wake up.

This time, however, the woman in front of him did not run to his arms and kissed him for all he was worth. The woman straight from his nightmares did nothing but stare at him in the same fashion she used to, before when they were husband and wife. Before, when there were no murders to cover and no sins to acknowledge. Before, when their love burned brighter than ambition, and family, and crowns, and death. Before, when it was just the two of them.

“I have returned to my family,” she corrected him, and it almost sounds soft. A loving mother scolding his child. He wanted to laugh, but the only sound that came out of his mouth was another cough.

“You’re… you’re real,” he croaked, and got closer to the bars in an attempt at getting a better glance of her. She stood there, draped in white, bags under her eyes and a red nose.

Zuko, he thought, and hated how it sobered him up. He looked in her eyes, trying to see the pain he knew would be there if her beloved son had left their world. He did not find it, but that did not relaxed him either.

“You lied,” she said, studying him with cold eyes.

“You promised you would come back.”

She scoffs, indignant as always. As if missing her was his problem and not her doing. “You hurt my son. You destroyed my daughter.”

Ozai laughed, and shook his head. Her brows furrowed. She grabbed his hair, and pulled hard, forcing him to look at her eyes. There is fire in her, so he knows. It had been sleeping before. It now burns hot. She looks at him with piercing eyes, and he has the grace to lower his glaze, to tremble before her.

He knows a lost battle when he sees one, so he accepted her blow with honor, if such a thing could be found in a disgraced man.

“I loved you with everything I was, and there was never a moment where I didn’t think of you,” he finally said, after a pause, with a trembling voice.

Her lower lip shook and Ursa bited hard on it. “Your brother has died,” she said. “He wanted you to know he was sorry.”

There was a pause too long for it to be comfortable. Ursa looked in the darkness, searching for a sign on his face that would betray the man she had adored. Any signs that the charming man who had promised her the world was there, somewhere. That the man whose small laughter had made her knees tremble was there, with ther. That her lover had mended his way.

Darkness overtook them, and she could not see a thing.

Ursa was no longer a little girl neither an impressionable woman – she would not cry for a man who did not have a heart. She clasped her hands together, and waited. Waited for the man she loved to appear. Waited for her dreams to shatter for one last time. Waited for her family to mend itself – to come back to normal.

“What for?” Ozai finally asked, turning away from her. His tone was unreadable, but she knew better. He was never a good liar for those who knew him. That is why, she suspected, he never allowed anyone to get close to him. “I am not the one who died.”

His attempt at humor was not a surprise, and she did not even bat an eye. How a man on his knees would manage to act so blinded by his idiotic pride, she did not know, but she could not say she expected anything but that from him. “Agni knows what he meant by that,” she huffed and rolled her eyes “– how he thought you deserved it,” she spat, her voice soft as a song. “But I supposed you should know.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement, but did not say more. She thought she saw his shoulders tremble, but she blamed her stupid reveries in the lack of light.

Silence surrounded them like an old lover, the only thing betraying her presence being her soft breath and the fresh scent.

She, immaculate and lovely, shouldn’t be there around the filth, Ozai thought grimly.

“How was it?”

Her eyes were back on him, and he trembled. “Peaceful,” she says, as soft as a whisper. “He went on his sleep.”

He snorted.  “Fit for a lazy idiot,” Ozai said, and Ursa could hear his sneer. Could hear the way his voice betrayed her true feelings.

“He went in his sleep, surrounded by those who love him,” Ursa said, her tone never flickering.  “Who will cry for you once you live this place, my love?” she asked, and moved her hand to caress his bony cheek.

Her touch was so soft he felt he could cry out loud. Her warmth caressed him, and Ozai closed her eyes.

“Have you come back to torture me?” he asked, laughter in his voice. It broke her how much he seemed to enjoy the prospect of it. “Haunt me, my sun. It’s been too long.”

“You could have had it all,” she said, and there was a ‘we’ that seemed to take his breath away if only for a second. She frowned. “I could have loved you until my last breath!” she did not know whom she is angry with – herself, or him. It should sicken her how eager she was to forgive and forget. To want to hug him and never let go. To lose herself to a love that consumed her and burned everything it touched.

Her loving words hurt more than any curses she could’ve said to him. That any knife she could’ve thrown at him.

“I could have forgiven you, but you had to hurt them. You broke us,” she reproached, and he did not need to look at her to know she was pouting. That she was glaring.

“There was a war,” he said, and it sounded pathetic to her ears. He wasn’t even trying to sound convincing.

“They were blood of your blood,” she said, and she felt her tears burning at the corner of her eyes, but did not let her tone flutter. Ursa had practiced for years by his side.

Ozai opened his mouth, tried to say something, but failed miserably.

“You are a monster,” she laughed, full of disbelief. “You were one back then, but I couldn’t see it. How foolish I was, to think that love could change you! You, who killed your own father. You, who rejoiced in your nephew’s blood. You, who can’t even mourn the death of a brother!”

“I can’t mourn a brother I didn’t have!”

“You didn’t have one because you never accepted him to begin with!” she yelled back, her voice echoing in the small walls of his cell. “You push people away, and play with them like toys and pawns for your own entertainment.”

He was shaking then. Wanting his tormentor to be silenced forever. Wanting that nightmare to end at last. Wanting her torture to keep on going until he was done, and he was freed, and he could never have to deal with her painfilled eyes anymore.

“Are you any different, my love?!”

“Everything I have ever done was to protect those that I love and care about!” she said, her fists clenched. “My mistake was loving someone who did not deserve it.”

He accepted the blow, but he couldn’t say it did not hurt.

Bitter tone, he said, “foolish girl, indeed. Weak and pathetic – couldn’t even do something for yourself—“

Ursa laughed, interrupting him for the first time. “Always so predictable,” she shook her head. “Iroh was right, though I can’t say I’m surprised.”

He frowned, his jaw tight. “You seem to forget I know how to read you as much as you know me, my husband,” she said, her voice back at being a soft caress. “Your brother’s ceremony will be held tomorrow morning. You may want to pray for his spirit, and your own. Agni knows you won’t be granted the mercy of a swift passing around your loved ones like your beloved brother.”

“You saw Father,” Azula never asks questions – she only states facts and waits for them to be confirmed. Ursa shared that trait when she was younger. She knows her own mother hated it, she could almost smile.

Azula is surprised at how unreadable her mother’s face is, but that does not stop her from trying.

“Yes, I did.”

“I haven’t visited in years,” the princess admited in a small voice, waiting for her mother to confess. She balances her weight on her feet, almost dancing-like, as if the situation didn’t bother her at all. As if her curiosity was simply picked, and the thought were not eating her mind.

“Not much has changed,” Ursa said, walking with her daughter.

“Was he happy?” the princess asked, looking promptly at her nails.

“With what?”

“Was he happy to learn of General Iroh’s death?” General. Never Uncle. Azula might have made peace with her past and her wrongdoings, but some things never changed. Ursa supposed she felt safer that way – rejecting someone before they could reject her was her most trusted tactic.

Ursa considered her daughter, looking at her as discreetly as she could muster. “He acted like it,” she said, hoping the princess would catch on.

Her daughter was not one to disappoint. “But you don’t think he was,” Azula said, stopping to watch her mother’s reaction.

Ursa’s only reply was a short shake of her head, and Azula’s lower lip trembled. It was then that Ursa noticed her daughter’s shaky breath, and the way she played with her hands.

“Azula—“she called, but was soon interrupted by the princess nervous, silly laughter.

“I know I shouldn’t care – I know it’s wrong,” she smiled, almost apologetically, but it fell cold as ice. Fake. Her lower lip trembled, and the princess was gone, leaving the girl behind. “But I… I- he is my father. It is stupid, and pathetic, but I-”

Ursa stopped her, one slender hand on her daughter’s shoulder. The warmth of her touch seemed to serve to calm her.

“I love him too, my darling.”

What happened next surprised them both equally. Azula’s warm arms found their place around her mother, and she hugged her tight. Ursa did not notice her own crying until she heard her daughter’s muffled sobs.

“He does not deserve it, and it doesn’t make sense, but I do,” Ursa said, caressing her hair.

“I-I wish…” Azula stopped herself, suddenly small and frail. Ursa understood. She wanted her daughter to know so.

With her eyes closed, she nodded, feeling her daughter’s body trembled in her arms. She held Azula tighter.  “Life has given us all a second chance.”

“We mustn’t be crying over him,” the princess said, firmly. The façade of a perfect warrior, crying and all. It is probably what she thought Ursa wanted to hear, and it breaks the mother’s heart. She wanted her to know that it was okay, that she would never harm her for showing emotions. That she felt grateful she could confide in her that way.

All words died in her throat.

“I think he loved you,” Ursa finally said, and she knew that was something that had clouded her daughter’s mind and troubled her sleep ever since she got better. Was she loved, or was she simply groomed to become a warlord? Was she something more than her bending? Did she mean anything for him?

“No one who has known you,” she continued, pushing a strand of hair behind her ears, “–really know you, the girl I always thought you could be – could do so without loving you,” Ursa’s whisper was accompanied by a soft caress to Azula’s cheek, and she smiled despite her tears. “But his love… his love has always been consuming.”

“You didn’t let him destroy you,” she pointed, and looked away, as if ashamed of her own vulnerability. Of the way her father had destroyed her.

“I wasn’t there for the worst part. But I am here now, and I am willing to make things right. I owe you and your brother as much.”

“So you don’t think Father can…?” Azula asked, her hope clear in her eyes.

Ursa shook her head sadly, “I don’t.”

“But you still love him.”

“I suppose I’m not any better than him, after all.”

This was written for the Royal Family Week but it’s been so long I’m actually ashamed of it :( 

This follows my headcanon that Urzai actually at least cared for each other. I hate to think of a woman tied in marriage to a man she detested, passive and barely her own character, when in stories the prompt is so easy to find. I do like the story they made for Ursa in the comics, but I don’t appreciate hot it takes from Ursa’s complexity in the show :(

I’d rather see a complex relationship between complex characters, I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, this is supposed to take place 18 years after the show’s canon. I hc that Azula escaped from the asylum, spent a decade travelling around the world, working as a bounty hunter or guarding towns, before she finally made the decission to come back home.

[aaronsteinbeck]

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[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

RFA as Pirates Part 2

As requested, here is a sequel to this post

This is a really hecking long post 

Jumin

Jumin is officially the First Mate, though in reality has the responsibilities of not only captain, first mate but also the navigator.

Spends most of his time in the captain's quarters poring over charts, maps, reports etc.

He basically never sleeps and at this point no one questions it.

Low key (high key) blames himself for everything that happened years before

Clashes with Zen constantly in terms of stratagem and what the crew should actually do next as they have very different perspectives on an ideal end goal and how to actually achieve it.

He is realistic as opposed to ambitious and refuses to entertain the more extravagant of challenges, settling instead for the safe options that will return a guaranteed profit. 

Jumin is a master swordsman and excellent strategist and he rarely, if ever, has cause to draw his blade.

If Jumin route: Jumin is jailed and forcibly reunited with his father, who has him freed before he faces the hangman's noose. It has consequences, however, for his father has plans for him to set his life on the right path and become the ideal son that he feels was stolen from him. This includes marrying an heiress. At first, Jumin seems to seriously be considering leaving behind the Elly Third and taking on a life of miserable responsibility, which makes MC sad in turn, for it seems as if they bonded and he is leaving them so soon. However, it soon transpires that the heiress has false intentions and the marriage is over before it begins. Jumin returns to the Elly Three and MC connects with him by getting him to open up about the true extent of his feelings, not only in terms of V and Rika, but also in terms of separating with his father.

Zen

Officially, he maintains the cannons of the ship, though he also keeps an eye out for rumours on the activities of the Navy, the EIC and other pirates all while charming wealthy patrons out of their coins and any useful information.

Refers to every woman he meets as his first love and has a gaggle of girls to greet him in every pirate port.

In reality, he has only ever loved one woman; she was the daughter of a Count and he the son of a tailor. He only ever really knew her from afar, but watched her entertain suitor after suitor after suitor and decided that he would make a better husband than each one combined.

In the end, he ran away to sea to find riches, meaning to go home one day and present her with some form of treasure that would win her heart. Unfortunately, he became a wanted man instead.

Zen clashes with Jumin a lot, as he genuinely despises the bourgeoisie, blaming them not only for the bounty on his head but also for being so insufferable prior to leaving.

He also believes Jumin to be a coward, for he commonly rejects most of Zen's ideas in favour of the safe option.

He tolerates V, as he understands (or at least...thinks he does), how it feels to lose someone you care about.

If Zen route: MC helps Zen out with fetching materials from port and develops a very strong idea of who he is based on the self assured aura he gives off. During one such visit, he pays over the odds for a treasure map and gets into a fight with Jumin, who believes it is nonsense and refuses to go. Zen steals one of the rowboats in the middle of the night and the crew are forced to pursue him for fear that he may catch his death on the open sea. When they finally rescue him he is half dead and tells MC of his story prior to piracy. MC encourages him to not only visit his family but also to see the woman he loved so much. MC feels jealous of the way he speaks of the other woman, but decides that they should rather him be happy than keep arguing with Jumin on the slightest chance she might reciprocate his feelings. The crew depart and MC is quickly shocked to learn exactly who Zen actually was (or wasn't) prior to joining the Elly Third. Zen's confidence dissolves before he can greet his crush and his parents, when he checks in on them, have him arrested. After being rescued, and a swift intervention from V, Zen opens up about how MC loved him regardless etc etc.

Jaehee

Quartermaster and in charge of supplies.

She and Zen are the ones who make most trips back and forth into port, sometimes with Seven.

Only Zen and Seven know she's actually a woman.

While Jumin is busy, Jaehee deals with everyone's everyday problems.

It's as much her job to keep Seven out of the gunpowder as it is to check in on how much there actually is.

She keeps a single pistol and practices while in port. Along with her ability to speak a second language and the fact that she is quite well read (all the ordinary pursuits of a young woman of marrying age), everyone assumes she's actually a reasonably well bred young man.

If Jaehee route: After accidentally walking in on Jaehee undressing, MC learns her secret and vows to keep it that way. Jaehee explains that she has been keeping it a secret from Jumin especially because of his old fashioned views about having women on ships. He did not particularly want Rika there either because of the dangers involved in piracy and would not have permitted it were not for V's interest in that regard. Regardless of her resilience, Jaehee fears he will think differently of her knowing she is not only a woman, but has been lying about it for such a long time. After many close calls, Jaehee explains to MC that she has been chasing freedom all of her life, whether it was fleeing a marriage or the literal Navy. She begins to wonder if she can truly count herself free if it means she has to lie about who she really is. With MC and Zen's help, she becomes captain of her own vessel.

Seven

Tinkerer

If he has an official rank, no one remembers what it is.

He mostly spends his time improving the ship's scopes and patching up the sails.

Constantly getting shouted at by Jumin because he tried a new type of gunpowder aGain and came very close to blowing up a part of the ship.

All of his guns and every inch of his bunk is modified.

He has a pet monkey and has it steal scraps from the kitchen and just generally be a nuisance to Yoosung, who he enjoys provoking.

He named the monkey Vanderwood after his favourite, most persistent Naval officer.

Always joking around and, like Jumin, basically never sleeps. When he's not in his bunker or fixing something on the ship, he can usually be found in the crow's nest.

Seven is the one who spies strategies in the most absurd of situations. Being held at gunpoint, with no weapons and your hands tied? Seven is the one who will give you a nudge and tell you the exact floorboard that will smack your attacker in the face if you stamp on it.

His jokes are a front, though, and everyone who remembers Saeran knows better than to bring him up.

If Seven route: The ship is damaged in a clash with a Mint Eye vessel. Seven believes he spots Saeran aboard and demands the others let him climb aboard, but not only is Saeran believed dead, but such an endeavour would risk the lives of the entire crew. The crew are marooned and Seven infuriated. He immediately sets to work to fix the damage to the ship, but the pressure along with the fact that he is reminded of the night Saeran disappeared means that he is not at his best. He retreats from the rest of the crew and MC (believing the pressure is all that worries him), tries to cheer him up but he rejects them quite harshly. Later, he explains about Saeran's disappearance and some of the events that led to him arriving on the crew. Seven gets the ship up and running again and MC proposes to Jumin a new expedition. Investigating the boat that almost left them lost at sea in the hopes of finding answers about Seven's brother. Considering it is so risky, Jumin does not want to hear of it, but when he realises the entire crew is united under one common cause for the first time in many years, he agrees. They head to the nearest bay to load up on supplies and information and they learn two things: fact one Mint Eye is an organisation setting up an armada of sorts to take full command of the sea and uproot the entire established order. Fact two: there is a contact at the bay accepting prospective crews to swear fealty to the organisation, who arranges meetings with their leader. Zen arranges a meeting with the guy in order to gather info and they attend, pretending to join Mint Eye. At the meeting, one of the captains swearing fealty is V.

Yoosung

When Yoosung joined the crew, he took on odd jobs here and there instead of having an official position. 

Rika did not want him to fight or to use a sword, as she disapproved of violence and pain.

Even so, he felt pretty useless so he put what knowledge he had left behind from his parents to good use when members of the crew took sick.

But obviously, injuries and sickness aren't a constant, so he needed something else to occupy his time and after realising how bad everyone's diet was, he became the ship's chef.

His cooking is terrible, though. The running joke is that even though he's the ship's doctor, his cooking will make you ill.

Yoosung still cannot use a sword, as almost everyone still considers him a child.

Yoosung blames V for what happened to Rika and, when drunk, laughs about how glad he is V left the crew because if he was still around he might have poisoned his dinner.

No one actually knows if he's joking.

Yoosung is forbidden from going to the pirate bays because Seven had to go and play blackjack for his clothes one too many times.

He actually holds no affection for piracy and would prefer an honest life. He only stays on the ship because he feels closer to Rika.

If Yoosung route: MC arrives on the ship on the anniversary of Rika's disappearance. Yoosung is convinced there's a connection; that Rika isn't dead and MC is there for a message or as a sign. Once it does not immediately become apparent that this is so, he sees Rika in MC in increasingly ordinary ways to the extent that he mistakes the two and refuses to allow Jumin leave MC at port. This comes even more to a head later on when the crew is captured and Yoosung is unable to contribute to the breakout attempt. It's something of a wakeup call in terms of his own abilities, as he feels he does not contribute to the crew and would not be there were it not for Rika. He spends the next few months trying to help the other members and failing miserably for a number of different reasons...mostly because he has no passion for them to begin with. MC advises him that maybe he is pushing himself too hard to fit a certain sort of role and he reveals that he blames himself for Rika being marooned in the first place. If she had not felt the need to protect him, perhaps she would never have joined the crew and taken on such daring missions. In an attempt to channel Rika, Yoosung acts increasingly brash, which leads to him landing in danger. On one such occasion, he is caught in a skirmish between pirates and Naval officers. A naval officer is badly wounded and Yoosung risks capture to treat his wounds. After hearing the man speak of his dreams and heroisms on the sea, he decides to join the Navy instead and is put under the command of Vanderwood.

V

V left the crew shortly after Rika's disappearance, blaming himself for everything that had happened.

He takes passage on many ships and travels to many countries, picking up strange and exotic plants and learning many different languages along the way.

He falls down a lot of cliffs too.

He learned of Mint Eye on his travels through pirate bays and made the connection to Rika after. 

He gathers a crew, intending to go undercover at Mint Eye and confront Rika. He hopes that things might be put right and she will see sense.

Because of the bounty on his head he could not return home, so instead worked as a cartographer. He made a living selling maps both to pirates and to the Navy, since he could pass as both.

AFTER ENDS

Regardless of route, the crew ends up going to an island base run by Mint Eye; the same island Rika was actually marooned on.

Yoosung and Jaehee are potentially missing from the crew at this point, but I'll get to that.

Also, V's crew are mostly confused about why Jumin punched their captain full on in the face. Jumin and V argue for hours and Jumin does not understand why V means to go to the island and never return. Jumin was the one who marooned Rika, but V will not tell him of her involvement for fear that he might insist on taking a share of the guilt.

Their relationship is strained on the journey, though both crews team up.

They are tracked by the Navy, though more specifically Vanderwood (and Yoosung potentially)

Baehee also potentially insists on tagging along if it's her route and she spies them arguing at port.

Everyone arrives at the Mint Eye island. It's not easy. Saeran attacks the ships and, despite Seven's pleas for him to stop and rethink, he reveals that Seven abandoned him and left him to die. 

Seven is heartbroken by this revelation

Saeran's ship (and Saeran himself) are captured in the chaos and Seven goes undercover to infiltrate the island

Everyone believes Saeran was rescued by a strange cult, right up until they see Rika.

Rika is angry with the entire crew for marooning her and is not entirely welcoming.

V begs her to reconsider what she's doing; that she opposed the EIC for their control of the oceans but now she means to do the same.

Seven confronts Rika about her treatment of Saeran and Rika reveals she always preferred Seven, but Saeran was younger and easier to control.

Saeran, who broke out of the ship, hears this.

The Navy arrive on the island and chaos ensues. Rika is convinced that the Elly 3rd crew invited them there and fights break out

Vanderwood arrives to arrest basically everyone

Yoosung, in any scenario, approaches Rika and demands she tell him it was all a lie and none of it was true. That she was working for someone else.

Rika holds a knife to his throat and takes him hostage.

Vanderwood shoots her between the eyes

V also gets shot but survives

Vanderwood agrees to leave everyone on the condition that Seven renames his monkey.

IF V ROUTE: V doesn't forgive himself after Rika's death and insists on her being buried at sea. MC is there to comfort him and in time they rebuild the island into a new port. MC and V run the port together and develop a close friendship, which begins with MC building bridges between him and the rest of the crew. V never fully forgives himself for everything, but he does see a happy future on the island, with MC's company

[pochqmqri]

I wrote this for Creative Writing class, we were to take a spin on an already established fairy tale and change it up. 

I wrote a transgender take on Cinderella. 

 Once upon a time there was a young mother and father who were deeply in love and cared much for those around them. They were beloved in their little village by many. Despite their kindness, the couple had suffered much hardship as they had failed to bring a baby into the world. After many years, a miracle occurred and a baby was born to the couple. Together they called him their ‘lovely little boy’ and brought him up with the expectation he would grow into a fine young man. However, as the child grew he would begin to feel discontent with his body and the path his parents and the village had set him upon. He felt much love for his parents, but was unable to find a way to tell them how he truly felt. Before he could gather his courage, a terrible calamity befell upon the kingdom. Plague begin to spread throughout the land and struck down many of its people, including the child’s mother. Upon her deathbed, the mother called for her child so she could see him one last time and impart her courage and wisdom upon him. The child, expecting to be told once more to become a fine young man, was surprised when his mother instead asked, “Fair child of mine, I have known that for many years something has been weighing upon your heart which you have been unable to tell me. It has always pained me knowing you have felt such a burden, so please, will you not tell me now what it is that troubles you?”. The boy, feeling much sorrow over hiding his secret, told his mother that he was uncomfortable about growing up into a 'fine young man' as was expected of him. Instead, he wished to become a fair and gracious lady, much like his mother was. His weakened mother smiled and replied, “I will no longer be able to make decisions for you, and there will come a day where your father will be unable to as well. Therefore, knowing that you have decided on this path for yourself fills me with joy. I will always love you, my sweet girl”. The mother then fell asleep, never to awaken again. The boy’s father, now a widower, spent many months grieving. However, he would soon come to marry and live with another woman from a different village who had two daughters of her own from wedlock. Both were very fair and very beautiful like their mother, but their hearts were dark and riddled with contempt for others. The step-mother would often spoil them, and while the father was away would steal money from him and extort others to buy luxurious goods for herself and her daughters. One day, the boy, desiring to admire his step-sisters’ fine dresses, tiptoed into their room. He knew his step-sisters cared very little for their clothing, as they would quickly grow bored with their dresses before demanding a new one. Although knowing it was wrong, the boy borrowed one of the dresses they had cast aside and took it back to his room to try on. He had not noticed his step-sisters following him, however. After spying on him, they burst into his room and began to wail, casting accusations upon the boy and calling him all kinds of names. Hearing the commotion, the step-mother came to investigate and was horrified at the sight. Together, they ripped the dress from off the boy’s back and burnt it, claiming it could no longer be worn since he had tainted it. They then set upon the boy, raining blows and insults upon him until he was black and blue with bruises. The next day, the boy’s father returned from a hard week of work and was mortified to find his child had been beaten and demanded to know the culprit. The step-mother, being very crafty and sly, shifted the blame on a imaginary thief. The father concerned with the wellbeing of his child, quickly believed the story. This pleased the step-mother greatly and her confidence grew. She would begin to manipulate her husband more and more, becoming quite demanding and forcing him to work harder and harder to keep up with her requests. Not wanting to let his new wife down, the father would continue to work until one day he dropped dead from stress and sorrow. Not wanting to feel responsible, the step-mother blamed the son for the father’s death and punished him by forcing him to do menial tasks while she and her daughters continued to live in luxury. Eventually the step-mother would take away the things his father had given him as well, until all he had were rags to wear and a tiny room next to the kitchen to sleep in. His step-sisters, having grown bold and lazy, would call him into their room and make him brush their hair and do their make-up for them. And although the boy secretly enjoyed this, he also felt sorrow in his heart as he felt he would never be able to do it for himself. One day, the king who ruled over the lands held a ball to celebrate his son's birthday. All the fair women of the kingdom were invited to come, which included the two step-sisters and their mother. They all began preparing intensely for this special day, which meant the boy was worked even harder for the next few days. The day of the royal ball came, and the women were just ready to leave the house. The boy asked if he could come along, but was ridiculed and told that this ball was "for fair women only!". The step-mother made precautions to make sure he could not sneak out by locking him in the basement until the ball was over, and so he stayed in his makeshift prison. Tears began flowing from his face, formed from the struggle of keeping his true identity inside himself just to stay safe. Then suddenly, a flash of green light appeared at one of the small windows in the basement room. The boy went over to look, and could make out a shadowy figure in a green cloak. Upon closer inspection, he made out a face. He couldn't tell whether the person was a man or a woman, but that thought was interrupted when the stranger spoke. "What are you doing cooped up in here? The night sky is lovely today!" the stranger said. The boy explained that he was locked up here, to which the stranger probed him for more information on why he was. It took a little bit of time for the boy to work up the courage to tell the truth. He never told anyone outside the family about his identity or his problems at home, fearing the worse that his secrets could be leaked to his family and he would be in trouble even more. A few times he opened his mouth, but nothing could come out to convey the right words. The stranger waited patiently, then the moment happened. The boy told them about despite being hailed as a 'lovely boy' that would someday grow into a 'fine young man' by everyone around him, he did not really want to become one. He would much rather be a fine woman like his real mother, and also be as beautiful as his step-sisters but much less cruel. "Well why can't you grow up to be a fine young lass?" asked the stranger. The boy stuttered for a bit, then told them he was scared of the repercussions he would face for not being 'normal' like everyone else. The stranger laughed a little, and told the boy that there are many people of this fair kingdom that 'normal' could not be used as a single term to describe everyone. "You want to be a fair lady like your mother right? Well then, you are!" the stranger shouted back. The boy looked down at his body and rags worn over, "I don't feel like one." he said shyly. The stranger looked down confusedly, but then realized what he meant. "Just wait, I know how we can make you 'dress for the part'!". The stranger came back to the house but instead of the basement window, they broke in and freed the boy from the front. They were holding a fancy dress with red frills in one hand, "One of the finest dresses made from the finest tailor in the kingdom! Just your size!" they exclaimed. The boy slowly tried on the dress, then the stranger told him to close his eyes. As soon as he opened his eyes again, he noticed his hair was much longer. "You know what to do, right?" the stranger said, handing him a brush. The boy's eyes widened, and he began brushing his new coveted hair. Soon after, he began to do his make up just like he did for his step-sisters. Once that was all done, the stranger directed him to a mirror. "Do you see what I see? I see a beautiful young lady who has finally been able to express her true self from within." standing behind the boy. He began to cry, but this time of joy. He now realized that 'she' was truly a woman all along. "No one can take your identity away from you, or change who you really are. Now then, shall we go to the ball?" the stranger said holding a pair of heels for the girl. The girl suddenly realized, "W-Who are you?!". "Me? Well I'm just a simple hunter, neither a 'huntsman nor a huntress'. Just remember that." they said smiling back. The girl began to try out her new pair of heels, only to begin tripping at first. "Don't worry about it, they'll take some time getting used to. I shall take you to my horse carriage now, we can make it to the ball just in time for the main event." the hunter pointed towards outside. The both quickly hurried over to the carriage, and off they went towards the royal palace. The palace was decorated from top to bottom, many of the women from the kingdom were all dressed up and chatting among themselves once the two arrived. The girl took a look at most of the fair women, and her confidence began to sink. Most of the women compared to their suitors were much shorter than them, but she was about as tall as the average suitor. The hunter sensed this doubt, and reassured her that only she could decide what she truly is. They then urged her to go towards the palace, staying behind. The girl got a few looks from the other women at the ball, but then they began to compliment her on her looks and dress. She began feeling much more confident in no time, making friends in the process. Then suddenly, she spotted her step-mother and step-sisters at the ball. Her initial reaction was to duck out of their sight, only to run into another man. She apologized over and over, but the man raised a hand to and laughed a bit. Everyone around her was staring at the man, he was the prince of the kingdom. He held the girl's hand, and kissed it. "You are one of the prettiest women I have seen in this ball today, would you care for a dance?" he whispered. She turned bright red and looked down, muttering about how she couldn't really dance. He laughed a little again, "That's OK, I shall teach you as we go.". She began to follow his movements as he held her close, everyone else stared in jealousy of the new couple. The step-sisters were watching the new girl very closely, attempting to decipher who she was and where she came from. The girl still not accustomed to her heels, tripped up a little and fell down. It was a small mistake, but that was enough for the step-sisters to fancy their suspicions. "You're not really a girl at all! No fair lady would fall in her heels like that! You must be our wretched step-brother dressed in 'drag'!" one of them shouted. Audible gasps could be heard as everyone stared at the girl on the floor, she froze in terror at what she just heard. The prince looked down at her, and asked her to confirm if this was true. Because lying to the royal family was considered a criminal offense, she told the truth about how she was 'born a boy'. The prince looked stern, but then quickly changed his gaze towards the step-sisters. "Why should the circumstance of her birth determine who she is? Heaven knows, it did not for me!" he shouted for everyone to hear. Even more gasps could be heard around the palace, it was meant to be kept a secret within the royal family that the prince was not actually 'born the way he is'. The step-mother stepped in to defend her daughters, claiming that it was "shame that the kingdom will soon be run by 'people in drag'!". Then, a few of the bystanders stood up. "Our prince is wise and does a lot of good for the kingdom! Why should it matter who they are?" they yelled back. Everyone else began cheering in agreement, while the step-mother and her daughters looked shocked. The royal guards came to detain the three, for not only disturbing the peace but abusing their step-family member on the basis of her identity. The girl noticed that the guard leading the charge was the hunter that helped free her, they winked back and soon left with the three detained. The night went on just fine for the girl and the prince, and she was even allowed to live in the palace to become his fair princess. She was so happy, she would now be able to live as who she really was.

[penbetweenthelines-blog]

Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,   By famous Hanover city; The river Weser, deep and wide, Washes its wall on the southern side; A pleasanter spot you never spied;   But, when begins my ditty, Almost five hundred years ago, To see the townsfolk suffer so   From vermin, was a pity.      Rats! They fought the dogs, and killed the cats,   And bit the babies in the cradles, And eat the cheeses out of the vats,   And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats      By drowning their speaking      With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats. At last the people in a body   To the Town Hall came flocking: 'Tis clear, cried they, our Mayor's a noddy;   And as for our Corporation — shocking To think we buy gowns lined with ermine For dolts that can't or won't determine What's like to rid us of our vermin! Rouse up, Sirs! Give your brains a racking To find the remedy we're lacking, Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!   At this the Mayor and Corporation   Quaked with a mighty consternation. An hour they sate in council,   At length the Mayor broke silence: For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell;   I wish I were a mile hence! It's easy to bid one rack one's brain — I'm sure my poor head aches again I've scratched it so, and all in vain. Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap! Just as he said this, what should hap At the chamber door but a gentle tap? Bless us, cried the Mayor, what's that? (With the Corporation as he sate, Looking little though wondrous fat); Only a scraping of shoes on the mat? Anything like the sound of a rat Makes my heart go pit-a-pat! Come in! — the Mayor cried, looking bigger: And in did come the strangest figure! His queer long coat from heel to head Was half of yellow and half of red; And he himself was tall and thin, With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin, But lips where smiles went out and in — There was no guessing his kith and kin! And nobody could enough admire The tall man and his quaint attire: Quoth one: It's as my great-grandsire, Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone, Had walked this way from his painted tombstone! He advanced to the council-table: And, Please your honours, said he, I'm able, By means of a secret charm, to draw All creatures living beneath the sun, That creep, or swim, or fly, or run, After me so as you never saw! And I chiefly use my charm On creatures that do people harm, The mole, and toad, and newt, and viper; And people call me the Pied Piper. (And here they noticed round his neck A scarf of red and yellow stripe, To match with his coat of the self-same cheque; And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying As if impatient to be playing Upon this pipe, as low it dangled Over his vesture so old-fangled.) Yet, said he, poor piper as I am, In Tartary I freed the Cham, Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats; I eased in Asia the Nizam Of a monstrous brood of vampyre-bats: And, as for what your brain bewilders, If I can rid your town of rats Will you give me a thousand guilders? One? fifty thousand! — was the exclamation Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation. Into the street the Piper stept,   Smiling first a little smile, As if he knew what magic slept   In his quiet pipe the while; Then, like a musical adept, To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled, And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled, Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled; And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, You heard as if an army muttered; And the muttering grew to a grumbling; And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling; And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,   Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,   Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives — Followed the Piper for their lives. From street to street he piped advancing, And step for step they followed dancing, Until they came to the river Weser Wherein all plunged and perished — Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar, Swam across and lived to carry (As he the manuscript he cherished) To Rat-land home his commentary, Which was, At the first shrill notes of the pipe, I heard a sound as of scraping tripe, And putting apples, wondrous ripe, Into a cider-press's gripe: And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards, And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards, And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks, And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks; And it seemed as if a voice (Sweeter than by harp or by psaltery Is breathed) called out, Oh rats, rejoice! The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! 'So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, 'Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon! And just as one bulky sugar-puncheon, Ready staved, like a great sun shone Glorious scarce an inch before me, Just as methought it said, Come, bore me! — I found the Weser rolling o'er me. You should have heard the Hamelin people Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple; Go, cried the Mayor, and get long poles! Poke out the nests and block up the holes! Consult with carpenters and builders, And leave in our town not even a trace Of the rats! — when suddenly up the face Of the Piper perked in the market-place, With a, First, if you please, my thousand guilders! A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue; So did the Corporation too. For council dinners made rare havock With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; And half the money would replenish Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish. To pay this sum to a wandering fellow With a gipsy coat of red and yellow! Beside, quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink, Our business was done at the river's brink; We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, And what's dead can't come to life, I think. So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink From the duty of giving you something for drink, And a matter of money to put in your poke; But, as for the guilders, what we spoke Of them, as you very well know, was in joke. Beside, our losses have made us thrifty; A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty! The Piper's face fell, and he cried, No trifling! I can't wait, beside! I've promised to visit by dinner time Bagdat, and accept the prime Of the Head Cook's pottage, all he's rich in, For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen, Of a nest of scorpions no survivor — With him I proved no bargain-driver, With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver! And folks who put me in a passion May find me pipe after another fashion. How? cried the Mayor, d'ye think I'll brook Being worse treated than a Cook? Insulted by a lazy ribald With idle pipe and vesture piebald? You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, Blow your pipe there till you burst! Once more he stept into the street;   And to his lips again Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;   And ere he blew three notes (such sweet Soft notes as yet musician's cunning   Never gave th'enraptured air) There was a rustling, that seem'd like a bustling Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling, Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering, And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering, Out came the children running. All the little boys and girls, With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after The wonderful music with shouting and laughter. The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood As if they were changed into blocks of wood, Unable to move a step, or cry To the children merrily skipping by — Could only follow with the eye That joyous crowd at the Piper's back. But how the Mayor was on the rack, And the wretched Council's bosoms beat, As the Piper turned from the High Street To where the Weser rolled its waters Right in the way of their sons and daughters! However he turned from South to West, And to Coppelburg Hill his steps addressed, And after him the children pressed; Great was the joy in every breast. He never can cross that mighty top! He's forced to let the piping drop, And we shall see our children stop! When, lo, as they reached the mountain's side, A wondrous portal opened wide, As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed; And the Piper advanced and the children follow'd, And when all were in to the very last, The door in the mountain side shut fast. Did I say, all? No! One was lame, And could not dance the whole of the way; And in after years, if you would blame His sadness, he was used to say, — It's dull in our town since my playmates left! I can't forget that I'm bereft Of all the pleasant sights they see, Which the Piper also promised me; For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, Joining the town and just at hand, Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew, And flowers put forth a fairer hue, And every thing was strange and new; The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here, And their dogs outran our fallow deer, And honey-bees had lost their stings, And horses were born with eagles' wings: And just as I felt assured My lame foot would be speedily cured, The music stopped and I stood still, And found myself outside the Hill, Left alone against my will, To go now limping as before, And never hear of that country more! Alas, alas for Hamelin!   There came into many a burgher's pate   A text which says, that Heaven's Gate   Opes to the Rich at as easy a rate As the needle's eye takes a camel in! The Mayor sent East, West, North, and South, To offer the Piper, by word of mouth,   Wherever it was men's lot to find him, Silver and gold to his heart's content, If he'd only return the way he went,   And bring the children behind him. But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavour, And Piper and dancers were gone for ever, They made a decree that lawyers never   Should think their records dated duly If, after the day of the month and year, These words did not as well appear, "And so long after what happened here   "On the Twenty-second of July, "Thirteen hundred and Seventy-six:" And the better in memory to fix The place of the Children's last retreat, They called it, The Pied Piper's Street — Where any one playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labour. Nor suffered they Hostelry or Tavern   To shock with mirth a street so solemn; But opposite the place of the cavern   They wrote the story on a column, And on the Great Church Window painted The same, to make the world acquainted How their children were stolen away; And there it stands to this very day. And I must not omit to say That in Transylvania there's a tribe Of alien people who ascribe The outlandish ways and dress On which their neighbours lay such stress To their fathers and mothers having risen Out of some subterraneous prison Into which they were trepanned Long time ago in a mighty band Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, But how or why, they don't understand. So, Willy, let you and me be wipers Of scores out with all men — especially pipers: And, whether they pipe us from rats or from mice, If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise.

Robert Browning-The Pied Piper of Hamelin