#but for older audiences I’d expect them to have at least a bit more of a moral compass

[kiwisandpearls]

I’m putting these words on a high shelf until you guys can actually start applying these words to actual situations where it would be important to apply them to and not fictional content

text behind read more

Text on box: the words “glorify, normalize, sexualize”

text pointing to kid: people who think the depiction of a certain dark topic without demonization equates to endorsement of that dark topic irl

[wubbowrites]

signs

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog

Relationship: Sonic/Shadow

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: Minor swearing (in sign language)

AO3 Link

Sonic discovers that Shadow was taught sign language during his time on the ARK.

Written for Sonadow Week hosted by @starlightzonee on Twitter. Uses the prompt, “Silence”.

(A/N: This was originally posted in December 2021 for a Sonadow week I found on Twitter! I remembered that back then, someone had posted a rec of it on Tumblr that got some notes, so I decided I’d cross post it myself if people here liked it ^_^ Not sure how many other older fics I’ll post here, we’ll see how I feel)

(ALSO the method of writing the sign language here is describing the hand motions. Translations of them are at the end of the fic)

As Shadow complained about his last mission with Rouge, Sonic noticed his hand motions.

It was unusual for Shadow to be so expressive when he spoke…At least, Sonic thought it was. It was only recently that the two became close enough to have casual conversations like this. Sonic wondered: Did he always move his hands this much when he talked with Rouge and Omega, for example? Did he only do it when he was frustrated like this, or did he do it during other heightened emotions too? Why did the motions seem so…specific? Practiced?

It suddenly clicked.

“Shadow?”

Shadow bristled at being interrupted. “What?”

“Do you…know sign language?”

He blinked. “Where did that come from?”

“You’ve been moving your hands around this whole time! I thought it was- Wait, did you not even notice?” Sonic asked.

Shadow looked down at his hands. He shook them a bit, pointedly avoiding eye contact all of a sudden. “I…suppose I didn’t. Yes, I know some sign language.”

This caught Sonic off guard. “Huh! When did you pick that up?”

“I learned it on the ARK.” He paused, waiting for a sign that he could leave it at that. When Sonic kept watching with expectant eyes, Shadow tensed some more and pressed on. “At times, when testing got particularly stressful, Maria would have nonverbal moments. She found it easier to communicate in these moments with sign language rather than writing or typing, so some of the scientists learned it to communicate with her better. Then when I was created, they taught it to me as well. Signing while speaking was an easy way to practice…but it seems the habit didn’t go away,” Shadow said.

Sonic grinned. “Teach me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Teach me some! Teach me some sign language! Even just a couple words, c’mon!”

“Why do you want this so badly all of a sudden? None of your friends know any, do they?”

“Our friends, you mean,” Sonic said. Shadow rolled his eyes. “And, well, no, they don’t. But like, it’d still be useful! Every once in awhile, I end up saving someone that can’t hear or can’t speak. Doesn’t happen too often, and I think I’ve done an okay job finding ways to communicate with ‘em, but it’d sure be easier if I knew some basics! Besides, it could be like a secret code if we’re around people that don’t know it!”

Shadow sighed. “Alright. The first answer I understand. But what use would we have for a secret code? There’s nothing I would have to say to you that I can’t just say aloud.”

“I dunno! Maybe for stealth missions?”

“Please. Your hopeless with stealth. A secret code isn’t nearly enough to save you.”

Sonic glared as Shadow huffed out a laugh. “Whatever! Maybe I do have secret things I would tell you! You’ll never know until we do it.”

Shadow sighed. He thought for a moment. Then, he decided: “Alright. I’ll teach you some. But for the record, your weak attempt at piquing my curiosity did not affect my decision.”

“Alright!” Sonic exclaimed as he pumped his fist in the air. “So…How do we do this?”

“Well…Perhaps the alphabet would be a good place to start.”

—

Slowly, over time, the other mobians began to notice the hand motions Sonic and Shadow would point at each other. It wasn’t often enough to be obvious. It was just something they did every so often. There were indeed a few times they would be battling Eggman together and would send each other a sign that the villain didn’t understand. Or they would happen across each other, and Sonic would smirk and swipe his finger under his nose. Shadow would reply back with a scowl, and he’d curl his index finger and thumb into a circle. Then Sonic would laugh and they’d go about their days and Tails and Rouge would be at their sides wondering what in the world was going on.

Frankly, though, a lot of Sonic and Shadow’s friends were pleased by the development, if only because it cut down on the loud arguing and boasting the two would get into.

—

On a clear, cool evening, Amy hosted a barbecue. Teams Sonic and Rose were invited, along with Rouge, who dragged her two boys with her. Everyone scattered throughout Amy’s yard. Amy herself stood at the grill with Knuckles, the two making food together. Shadow and Rouge sat at one picnic table just chatting amongst themselves, Omega standing beside them. Sonic and Tails sat at a second table a few feet away. Sonic watched over Tails’s shoulder as he played a game on his handheld console. Cream and Big had a blanket laid out that they shared, along with Cheese and Froggy of course. Everyone was relaxing in their own ways. It was already a lovely time.

Big couldn’t help but notice it when Sonic began to steal glances at Shadow. Big wasn’t always the most observant, but he was quiet. And being the fisherman he was, he could be very focused when he wanted to. For some reason, that focus fell on Sonic. The blue blur’s hands fidgeted as he tried to silently get the other hedgehog’s attention. Shadow was too distracted by one of Rouge’s stories to turn his head.

Eventually though, Shadow noticed. He stared at Sonic with a cocked eyebrow.

Sonic grinned back. He pointed to Shadow. He brushed his index and middle fingers down against his chin. Shadow kept staring as if expecting Sonic to take it back. After a second, Sonic chuckled and did it again.

Big had never seen Shadow blush before that moment. It was only the tiniest bit. He gave Sonic the middle finger and quickly turned away. He hid it as fast as he could. Nobody else seemed to have been watching anyway. But Big saw.

“Aw.”

Cream looked up at him. “What is it, Mr. Big?”

“Sonic and Shadow are really sweet.”

“Hm?” Cream looked up. The two were back to what they were doing before, not even facing each other. “What were they doing?”

“Sonic just gave him a nice compliment. But I don’t think anyone else knew it.“

Cream smiled. “Oh! That makes sense! Mr. Sonic is very kind! But…” She scratched her chin, suddenly rethinking. “I thought they didn’t like each other as much.”

“They must have made up,” Big said cheerfully. “That’s nice.”

“I guess so!” Cream nodded. “I’m glad we can all be good friends then!”

“Mhm.”

Froggy croaked and began hopping away. Big watched him go down the yard. He slowly rocked onto his feet and followed close behind. And with him suddenly leaving, so too did the secret message between Sonic and Shadow.

—

Translations of the ASL. I did my best to research these, but please let me know if something isn’t right! I’ll happily edit in corrections ^_^

“Sonic would smirk and swipe his finger under his nose” = fake, meant to invoke “faker”

“he’d curl his index finger and thumb into a circle” = asshole

“He pointed to Shadow. He brushed his index and middle fingers down against his chin.” = you’re cute

[mackmp3]

I’d love to hear you talk about PJ Harvey and queerness, if you’re so inclined!

OH MY GOD ANON I LOVE YOU reveal yourself so i can kiss you /joking and platonic (unless...)

this is gonna be really long so TL,DR, A Lot of PJ's work can be interpreted to be about a sapphic and/or gender non conforming experience.

OKAYYYYY SO

PJ Harvey, despite having never actually said she isn't straight, has written some Very Queer music, both in subtext and fully in the lyrics.

a few examples -

Dress could be interpreted to be about feeling the pressure to be a stereotypically girly girl and trying to navigate social situations where it's expected you have a boyfriend -

'Must be a way that I can dress to please him It's hard to walk in the dress, it's not easy [...]

Filthy tight, the dress is filthy I'm falling flat, and my arms are empty Clear the way, better get it out of this room A falling woman in dancing costume'

but failing to do so because it's just not you. feeling uncomfortable in a dress, trying and failing to have normal interactions with guys - which of course cishet girls can feel as well, but hits particularly hard as a queer, gender non conforming, girl adjacent person

O Stella, while the symbolism makes it about a religious idol, could be interpreted to be about idolising an older girl. Oh My Lover is about being totally fine with a partner's hypothetical polyamory.

Man-Size is a big one, before i even knew the term gender envy i was Deeply Aware that that was what man-size is about (in my opinion, at least) - wanting to things that guys do but not being able to cos you're a girl.

'Good Lord I'm big I'm heading on Man-sized got my leather boots on Got my girl and she's a wow [...]

I'm man-sized no need to shout Let it all, let it all hang out / out out out'

fantasising about a reclaiming of power while presenting in a more masculine way - WITH A GIRLFRIEND I MIGHT ADD - before going back to feeling as though that is unattainable -

'Silence my lady head Get girl out of my head Douse hair with gasoline Set it light and set it free'

like, 'get girl out of my head' is a pretty queer thing to say, yknow?

and 50ft Queenie -

'Hey I'm one big queen No one can stop me [...]

Hey I'm the king of the world You ought to hear my song Ah come on measure me I'm twenty inches long'

which is at the same time using male terms - even though the song is called Queenie, and that word is used a lot, she specifically calls herself King of the world, and proceeds to make fun of the perceived importance of a particular male organ, while at the same time saying she's better than them

more songs with gender and lesbian undertones - Yuri G, Catherine, to a degree A Woman A Man Walked By / The Crows Knows Where the Children Go (that one's quite explicit, word of warning if yu haven't heard that one before) - and songs that are covers of songs written by men without any pronoun changing - Shake Your Hips and I Can't Get No Satisfaction are two notable examples of that.

and then there are her songs that are just sapphic without being specifically gendery - My Beautiful Leah, Claudine the Inflatable One - i first thought that Down By the Water was about sneaking out to meet a sapphic lover under the bridge in the dead of night, a doomed romance, but there are lots of better and far more likely interpretations than that.

Polly herself has also said a lot of things that just kinda read queer. Like Patti Smith before her, she has said that she writes her songs from a place 'beyond gender', and just writes them as stories, sometimes from a male perspective. But of course, to a queer audience, you can hear her singing and *know* she's singing from a male perspective, but also can't help but to hear it as queer as well.

bit of a quote to go with that -

You've said that you don't like to think in terms of gender when it comes to music. Why do you think the gender issue, especially the concept of you being a feminist, is constantly mentioned with your work?

'I can only presume that, especially in the early days and early those labels tend to stick, but I know that I really played with gender in my lyrics, and I might sing in the shape of a man or I might sing in the shape of a woman. Or I might be dressing women in a loving way as a man or as a woman, or sometimes as neither. Sometimes more as just an essence, a feeling or an atmosphere. And I think that feels quite natural to me, but I think for some people it's not natural, and that's where the gender issue seems to become quite important.'

she was also adamant that she didn't want to be seen as part of riot grrrl, but rather as part of grunge - grunge was a very very aggressively male genre, and i don't think she thought riot grrrl had the right idea about how to go about empowerment - she took herself more seriously than that i think. she didn't want to be called a feminist, because she didn't want to be called a 'female artist', but rather just an Artist.

her gender presentation, moving from fairly neutral in 1992 (big black leather jacket, black boots etc, to the hyper-feminity of the To Bring You My Love era, 1995, also comes into play - she was showing femininity to be a performance, while also using it to her advantage, she didn't actually dress like that normally, no one wears that much eyeshadow, it was closer to a drag show than an actual outfits, a lot of the stuff she wore on stage. which is another one of those things that makes sense to a cishet girl, but gains more complexity as a queer person.

there's probably a lot more i can say on this, but that's everything off the top of my head! i cannot tell you how excited i was to get this ask, PJ Harvey is so much of how i've explored my own gender and sexuality, i could talk about this for a very long time!

[fancy-a-dance-brigadier]

For the fic writer ask: ✨🌿🦋🕯️💎

Thank you for the ask friend! These are great questions

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

Ohh this is a good question! I’d have to say my three Troisha fics for this one - “Your Light on the Horizon”, “A Different Kind of Human”, and “Resting Place”. There’s just something about Troisha that makes me write better idk. I’m just very proud of these three fics, and there’s a selfish part of me that wishes they got more attention 🙈 (I also think I might rewrite some of my older Dr Who fics at some point, because I think my writing has improved a lot since I first wrote them! So I guess that counts as breathing new life into a fic too)

🌿how does creating make you feel?

Plain and simple, it just makes me feel good. I like being able to play with words and themes and concepts and characters - it gives my English academic literary brain a lot of satisfaction. Especially when I’m putting theory into practice, if that makes sense.

🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

I guess the fact that I mostly write for rare pairs could count as an insecurity? I worry that nobody will read or care about my rare pair fics just because there’s less of an audience for them. But then again, my brief escapade into writing for a popular pairing resulted in a fair few fics that I’m not that proud of anymore, while I’m generally pleased with the quality of all my rare pair fics. So maybe there’s nothing to worry about after all.

🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?

I’ve got to say my two big DS9 multi-chapters for this one, “Springtime on Jupiter” and “Say You’ll Stay With Me”. They weren’t hard to write necessarily, but they definitely went in directions I didn’t expect! I think I’ve mentioned this before, but SOJ is, on a metatextual level, the story of me falling out of love with Garashir as a pairing - it began as a run of the mill Garashir fic, but as I wrote it ended up going to a much weirder, darker place that explores the issues surrounding that pairing. I certainly wasn’t expecting it to go in that direction when I first started writing it! It’s a bit similar with SYSWM, minus the falling out of love with the main pairing part (because I am and always will be a total siskoshir girlie) but more that it went in a much darker direction than I planned. I went into it thinking it would be just a fluffy siskoshir retelling of ‘Pretty Woman’ but oops I dropped angst all over it my bad!!!!

💎 why is writing important to you?

Ok this is going to sound kind of selfish, but writing is important to me because it reminds me that there is something I’m actually pretty good at. It genuinely helps my self-esteem to know that my favourite hobby is something I can do reasonably well. I know the general message we try to encourage on tumblr is that you should feel free to create things and take joy in them even if you aren’t good at them, but I can’t help it - I like being good at things, and I feel better doing what I’m good at than what I’m not. I’m no great athlete or musician or artist, but at the very least I can write some damn good gay fan fiction etc etc

[curried-mermaid]

A Review: Call of the Night Vol. 1

Author: Kotoyama Illustrator: Kotoyama Publishers: Viz Media Age Group: Older Teen Genre: shonen, romance, comedy, fantasy Type: Manga

Content Warnings: Acohol

Spoilers ahead

Plot

Ko Yamori is an insomniac with a penchant for nightly walks where he meets Nazuna Nanakusa, a vampire, which is fine by him as he decides he wants to be one too. Only it won’t be that easy. 

This plot is pretty relaxing to read. One thing I did notice is when Ko is trying to decide if he wants to spend more time enjoying the freedom of the night, we get different settings. Behind Nazuna is the night, quiet and freeing, shown by the empty street and parks. Ko, on the other hand, is shown in his classroom. It really shows the duality of being normal, following rules and expectations, versus wanting to be free from the monotony of life. 

This drudgery of day life versus the freedom the night provides is not lost on Ko. It gives him time to figure out what he wants out of life.There’s a lot of introspection that Ko goes through in this first volume. He decides the goal he wants is to fulfill the conditions to become a vampire, which means falling in love with Nazuna…only he doesn’t know what love really means. 

Character Development

Ko Yamori, to me, is a very relatable character. He struggles with his emotions to the point he doesn’t know what having friendships and being in love really means. He doesn’t get romance and how other people feel. He is good at picking up context clues so he can at least figure out the right direction someone is feeling. He’s very much a loner and pensive. 

Nazuna may be a vampire but she’s the opposite of Ko. She’s loud and talks a lot. She doesn’t let things get her down and takes everything in stride. At the same time, based on her reactions, she’s never been in love either as she gets flustered when love is mentioned. She is kind of pervy which she uses to tease Ko all the time by misstating things. 

Akira is Ko’s old playmate from when they were little. Not much is known about her except she may have a crush on Ko. She’s always thought of Ko and her as friends. 

World-building

The world is contemporary focusing more on the stillness of the night. It calls to souls that don’t feel like they fit in and that’s exactly the vibe you get. It pleasantly drowns you as the story progresses. You want to be in the night just as much as Ko. 

The bit of world-building we get is mostly about vampires. We find out that vampires can only turn someone if that person has fallen in love with them, and not just any kind of love, it has to be true love. Though all our protagonists don’t know what that actually means. 

Themes

If I had to choose a theme outside the obvious what is love? I’d say it comes from something Nazuna says:

“Live in the night until the day gets better”. 

I take this to mean that it’s okay to withdraw from people. It’s okay to recharge and find something that calms your soul. It can be anything as long as you feel the freedom to relax and be yourself. Accepting the bad and good within a space that you feel safe where everything can just melt away. 

Observations & Predictions

Ko is in a perfect spot to have a lot of emotional growth as he develops friendships with Akira and Nazuna. His introspective personality makes him perfect for the audience to follow his journey with him. Sometimes relating to people is tough especially if you don’t have strong feelings one way or the other. I think that Ko could really fall for Nazuna. 

Yet, we also have Akira in the mix. It doesn’t seem like they’re the kind of girls that will create a love triangle where they backstab each other and fight for Ko, but it could happen. We know that Nazuna got a little jealous when Ko started hanging out with her less to hang out with Akira. So, it’s a possibility that a love triangle will come about. Though I’m hoping that doesn’t happen for a while in the series as Ko’s emotional arc needs to catch up so he could handle something like that. Otherwise, he could just withdraw from both of them. 

Something I really liked during some of Ko’s introspections is that he starts feeling better about the world, not because Nazuna drinks his blood, but because they feel the same way. There’s no deeper meaning to them being together than they want to spend time together. I think this is an excellent epiphany for him because it’s creating a safe space for him to continue to grow as a person. It also helps Nazuna to begin changing and starting her own character arc. 

I’m interested in seeing how Akira handles the fact that Ko just lets Nazuna feed from him. She wants him to go back to school, but Ko doesn’t really want that. How he handles Akira and telling her what he wants will be key in their relationship. I think Akira won’t really understand at first and try to stop him. This could become a problem as it’ll just create a divide. She could also accept it (as she seems more on the mature side) though she’ll be disappointed. 

Would I recommend to give this a read? I think so, it’s not in your face about anything but it’s a nice read where you can relax and just let the story unfold. You can introspect and recharge just as much as Ko does in this. I’m intrigued to see where this series goes. 

Recommendations

Similar Romance:

Insomniacs after School By: Makoto Ojiro

Horimiya  By: Hiroki Adachi

More Vampires: 

My Dear, Curse-Casting Vampire By: Chisaki Kanai

The Case Study of Vanitas By: Jun Mochizuki

Supernatural: 

Bakemonogatari By: Nisio Isin

[humancomedy]

Human Comedy: Tragedy - 10

Shu: Hmph. We're about to begin. Rouse your spirits, Kagehira.

Location: Underground Live House

Shu: Hmph. We're about to begin. Rouse your spirits, Kagehira.

Especially since you let this day arrive without completing the new outfits I had tasked you with.

At the very least, you can make your performance today flawless.

Mika: G-Gotcha! I'll do my best.

Shu: I say this every time, but doing your best and achieving results is only to be expected. This stage is my creation, after all...

You need only nod your assent in silence.

—No, not even that. Once the curtains rise, and lights and music fill the stage, you need only embody the spirit of my vision. That is all we require to make this world ours.

Now... Let us step forth, Kagehira.

Mika: Yeah. ...Oshi-san, you gonna step back and put me up front again?

Shu: No, at least for today, I would like to see our audience from as close-up as possible... It's our last time, after all.

Your output is rather irregular as well. I fear that if I leave it to you, our performance will go to ruin.

Today, I shall toe the boundary between us and them, as close as I will allow myself to be.

Ahh, I do feel a touch of nostalgia... The smell of smoke and alcohol, wafting underground in the gentle darkness—

Back then, I'd thought it repulsive, but in this moment alone, it does tug at my heartstrings.

♪ ~ ♪ ~ ♪

Mika: (Oh... Oshi-san slid right into singing, didn't he. All smooth an' natural-like.)

(He never used t'have much to say 'fore our shows. Always just wanted to show off his work an' split.)

(But today, Oshi-san ain't quite the same as usual.)

Mika: (He's calm, an' peaceful... Like he's stretchin' out every last second of his song, savorin' 'em one by one.)

(Nah, maybe he's tryin' to use every moment to remain in our memories, even if only fer a lil' bit more.)

(Ahh... I could watch him forever an' ever.)

(There ain't no better honor than bein' by Oshi-san's side, but at least in this instant, maybe I just wanna be his audience?)

(Ngah~ ...Oshi-san's just so beautiful right now. ♪)

Shu: ~...♪

...Kagehira. Why must you stand there like a scarecrow? Sing. Honestly, whatever is the matter with you these days?

Do you intend to sully the final performance of my high school career?

Mika: Ngah~ Nah, it's nothin' like that! Sorry, Oshi-san! I'm gonna try my very best!

(...W-Wait, what? Somethin' real weird's goin' on at the back of the audience!)

(No way... Are they pickin' a fight?)

(Ah, right... One of our young fans let out a real ear-splittin' shriek when they saw us just now, huh?)

(And now a long-time fan's givin' 'em an earful 'bout it...)

(Sure, Oshi-san's always hated it when folks make noise while he's singin' his songs.)

(We kinda have this unspoken rule with fans that they're s'posed to watch us quietly... But the newer folks ain't got a clue.)

(So one o' the oldies is up and havin' a spat with a new kid, then? Dangit, other folks've noticed and it's startin' to spread!)

(Gosh darnit, no! The whole show'll go down in flames! This is Oshi-san's last chance, y'all!)

(Uwahh... Oh geez, what am I s'posed t'do?)

(Should we tell 'em right up to stop kickin' up a fuss? But if we bungle it, we'd just be pourin' oil on the flames!)

(Tryin' to preach manners when folks had no clue about 'em in the first place is just barkin' up the wrong tree, anyway!)

('S not like we made it an official rule to keep quiet! It's just somethin' the fans agreed on themselves.)

('S nobody's fault if they don't know, and 'sides, we've got lil' kiddos here too...)

(Of course they'd wanna go hog-wild if their favorite idol's right there in front of 'em.)

Mika: (But I dunno 'bout tellin' off the older fans, either...)

(Even when we were crawlin' at the bottom, they supported us and cheered us on.)

(I mean, who are we to get on our high horses, huh? Whose support helped us stand up again?)

(Ngaaah, what do I do? How do I get 'em to cool off without bringin' down either side...?)

Shu: "Non! Enough romping about, you boorish lot!"

Mika: (...!)

Shu: "Do not shout! Do not clamor! Be silent and listen to my song!"

"For what purpose have you gathered here today? To engage in petty quarrels? To seize someone by the collar and shower them in pejoratives?"

"If that is your wish, then leave this place at once! You are a disgrace!"

"The mere sight of you is offensive! Now, before you anger me any further... Return to the garbage dump from whence you came!"

"There, you can frolic as you so desire with the rotten eggs and moldy fruits—your dear friends, the kitchen scraps~!"

Mika: (Nghaaaaa, what's he up and sayin' to our guests...?!)

(But he's right to say it! With one sharp talking to, everybody's gone stone-cold silent!)

(Well, 'course anybody'd be surprised if someone straight-up yelled at 'em!)

(It's only natural... 'S that what Oshi-san was aimin' for?)

(I mean I reckon it was just a temper flare, but which is it? What're you doin', Oshi-saaaan?!)

Shu: "...If you do not wish to play among the trash, if you are indeed a gracious guest who has come to hear my songs today—"

"Then repent for spouting such unwarranted accusations."

"If you wish to be my audience, I am ready to show you the art I have prepared for all of you today."

"Allow me to present to you what I have meticulously toiled and lavished my hours upon for this very day."

"That is all I could ever want—it is the one and only wish of Itsuki Shu of Valkyrie."

"Now, you foolish peasants! If you are truly rotten to your cores, then by all means— return to your squabbles!"

"I will not stop you. I have neither the time nor desire to extend a hand to those who are unsalvageable!"

"But if you are above that filth; if you are indeed humans, the most artistic creatures on this earth—"

"With the furthest extent of your sensibilities, submit everything to me, indulge in my art, and make praise! This is your right!"

"Rejoice! Through mere contact with my art, you shall climb the ranks of evolution!"

"And we of Valkyrie shall lead you up to the heavens...!"

"We bring only the most beautiful, the most worthy!"

"O, people who have been chosen by miraculous fortune from the vulgar masses—rejoice, weep, and listen to my song...!"

♪ ~ ♪ ~ ♪

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry VII

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), mentions of previous forced oral, abuse of power, these men ain't shit.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You face a reckoning for evading your lord.

Note: This wasn't planned but things just turned out this way because my go to is fuck the reader. Oop.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The nights only got harder. It didn't matter if Lord Barnes wanted to touch you or wanted you to touch him, even just laying beside him was torment. You hated what he'd done to you and what he'd made you do. You hated yourself more for how he made you feel.

You decided that day in the carriage during the rainstorm that you hated him. You hated Lord Barnes more than even Lord Rogers. At least the latter was honest in his lechery, he did not try to veil his true desires but Barnes spoke to you sweetly as he forced his needs upon you.

The night before you were due to reach the capital, you did not sleep. You couldn't in the bed next to Barnes. He wanted to be astride as he entered the city and so you were left to ride alone in the carriage. The sway soon had you across the bench in a deep slumber. It was the best sleep you had in weeks.

You only woke as a hammering came at the door and streaks of sunlight were let in as it opened. A footman called you out and helped you down the step into the dirt. You batted your sleepy eyes and marveled at the castle as it came clear. It was getting colder as the autumn wore on, bitter. It was the wrong season for a tournament.

As you trod through the beaten yard of the castle, Lord Barnes clapped off his right hand, the leather glove dusting, and approached you. He’s gaze strayed to Lord Rogers for a moment then back to you. He dropped his shoulders and scrunched his lips.

“I have an audience with the king,” he said glumly, “as much as I’d prefer you attend with me it has been brought to my attention that… the court might not be as accommodating to you as I am. Regardless, I might have a seat arranged for you at the feast and you were surely sit in the rows for the sparring.”

“I… my lord, I am only--”

“I told you,” he interjected, “you are not a maid anymore.”

You held your tongue as you wanted to spit at him. What were you? A courtesan? A whore? Was that better than emptying his pot? You dipped your head and pulled your cape snug, “my lord.”

“See her to my rooms,” Barnes directed the footman at your shoulder, “once the chests are unpacked, she is to be undisturbed. My guard will have the same orders.”

“Yes, my lord,” the footman bowed, “my lady.”

You looked at the footman and slowly followed him away from Barnes. You were eager to be away from him but not eager to be shown your new prison. You entered the castle and followed the torchlit corridors beside the footman.

“I’m not a lady,” you said at last, “I don’t want you to ever call me that again.”

“My apologies, my--” he stuttered, “the lord bid it.”

“He lies to himself and you,” you muttered, “I was born as you, likely lower. My own mother was a laundress and my father a stablehand. Cut from the finest, I am.”

The footman was quiet as he waved you ahead of him up the coiling stairwell. You regretted your harsh words but knew they could never be delivered to their true target. When you reached the chamber designated to your master, you stopped outside. Lester was already at his station by the lord’s doors.

“I am sorry,” you told the footman, “I was unkind. You do not deserve that.”

His lips curved slightly and he hid his amusement, “I know now you are like me,” he said softly, “the nobles, they don’t apologise.”

You chuckled darkly and left him. You passed the servants as they carried in trunks and opened them in a flurry of duty. You went to the bedroom and climbed up on the large feather mattress. That time you had to yourself, even surrounded by the chaos of your arrival, was a relief. You did not know how long you’d get away from Barnes.

🏰

You fell asleep again. This time, you weren’t floating in your dreams, driven wildly by the tides, but you were still, straight as a board in the ground as dirty sprinkled onto you. The cold earth warmed as the layers piled on you. Deeper, deeper, deeper until you couldn’t breathe.

You woke with a start and nearly screamed as a shadow loomed over you. Barnes sat beside you, his legs over the edge of the couch. He played with the lifeless fingers of his artificial hand. Your hood was on the pillow, crumpled and the folds of your dress were bunched awkwardly beneath your body.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he murmured, “just wanted to sit with you.”

“How long--”

“It is almost time for supper,” he said, “but the feast is not until the morrow. You might remain and rest some more.”

You didn’t move, just looked up at the canopy and laid there. You didn’t say anything more as you folded your arms over the stiff bodice.

“You should sleep… the journey was long. Tiring,” he continued.

You just blinked but didn’t close your eyes. The canopy was a rich green marked with gold. The stitches were woven in the shape of leaves and vines. You thought of the forest and those days you were so scared. You were much more terrified now.

“I wanted to say, and I should now since you are awake,” he began as he leaned on his elbow and his other arm fell limp and heavy, “what occurred with Rogers will not arise again. I made him a promise I regret and it was sorted.”

You held back a shudder as you thought of the salty tasted and the pungent scent of their arousal. You swallowed and hugged yourself tighter.

“If he attempts to reenact the scene, or more, you will inform me, and you have my leave to see that he does not,” Barnes said sternly, “you are still mine. I would not have you confused.”

You rolled onto your side so that your back was to him. He huffed and his hand fell onto your side. He squeezed and the bed shifted. He said your name and every muscle in your body went taut.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

“I’m tired,” you said.

“I want no mistake. You--”

“I belong to you,” you sneered, “you want to use me, you want to own me, you want me to tell you I know I am nothing but the dirt beneath your boot. Let me assure you I am aware--”

“Do not speak to me as such,” he hissed.

You bit back your voice and heaved. You sucked in your cheeks and wriggled away from his reach. “It is understood, my lord. Now as you bid, I would sleep.”

🏰

The only grace allowed you at the feast, rather denied you, was a seat with your lord. As much as Barnes would prefer to have you close he was still bound by the expectations of court. He didn't let on that you were merely a servant but you didn't think anyone could believe otherwise. For his vouching, you were sat among the lower lords and ladies.

You watched as wine was poured for you. You eyed the girl who kept her chin down as the filled the cups and thought of your own time in a similar duty. What did Barnes find so fascinating about you? You had only done what dozens others had done for him before. You couldn't figure you had an outstanding feature or manner that could explain his interest, it could only be your own poor luck.

You ate without tasting, without zeal, slowly as you brought fork to lip and dissolved into the chatter of strangers around you. All those seated at the long tables had a partner or some family with them. You were alone. Your parents were dead and all those you'd ever had a kindred tie to were far away.

"Uncle," a voice perked up across from you and drew your attention as you chewed the spiced rabbit meat, "if I made the lists, surely I can win!"

"My coin got you on those lists," the older man replied, "it is all formality. Should you gace a king or a duke, you would be remiss to claim victory."

"I am to lay down for their title?" The younger scoffed, "I am a man now and I have trained--"

"But you think like a boy," the other rebuked, "a runner up can take a fine purse still and if you feed the ego of a high borne man he will be more willing to show you favour."

You lowered your fork and looked at the two men as they argued. The elder`s hair was sprinkled with grey but the rest the same shade of reddish brown as the youth. You were heartened by their familial banter but saddened at your own solace. You dropped your hands to your lap and looked at your plate.

"Dear," the woman beside you touched your sleeve, "are you well?"

You turned to her startled and nodded. "Yes, my lady," you cleared your throat, "fine indeed."

She peered past you then shared a look with the older man across the table. She was not so grey as him. She smiled and withdrew her hand. "You are alone?"

"Only me, my lady," you answered.

"And overly polite," she chuckled, "a pity. A young girl sent to court without escort. What family could do such a thing? You must be frightened out of your wits."

"I will… persevere," you said.

"Ay but it is the nature of these events to be cordial. I am May Parker, my husband is a baron," she gestured to the older man across from you, "Benjamin, and my nephew, Peter, a viscount in his beloved father's stead," she smiled at the younger man, "and your name?"

You hadn't been told what to say in the circumstance. You hadn't thought of it and surely Barnes hadn't either. You would have to garnish the truth with enough lies to get by. You twined your fingers together. You offered your name, your truth, then conjured your lies as you spoke.

"My father is, er, was, a baron as well," you said, "I am his only child."

"Oh, you sweet thing, if you would be alone for this tournament, you might stay near to us. My nephew hasn't many peers of his age just yet, and my husband is much too weary to keep up with him."

You glanced around, the two men bowed their heads in greeting. You attempted a smile and thanked her.

"Our Peter will be competing in the joust and in the sword contest," she announced, "we did urge him to enter the bow and arrow but he finds it dull."

"Oh," you were uncertain how to address these people, to speak as if you were their equal, "I've never attended a tourney before."

"Best you stay close then," she squeezed your hand gently, "why look at all these people! Even that Duke from the north came, bless him, that one who did lose his arm in the campaigns."

You reached for your wine to hide your discomfort at the mention of him. All you had to do was pretend for the evening and you'd likely not see these people again. As friendly as they were, you couldn't stand to make friends only to lose them.

You listened for the rest of the courses as May and her family did much of the talking. There were moments you forgot your predicament, even that you were born a peasant, but when it returned to you, the food turned to a lump in your stomach and your heart clamoured.

You were roused from the waking dream only as the music plucked up and the plates were cleared by your own ilk. May chuckled and stood as her husband came around to her. She paused as the bodies flooded from the benches onto the boards. She touched your shoulder kindly, "if you would be in want of a partner, our Peter is rather graceful."

You looked to the younger Parker and he lit up. "Only if you like, miss."

"I… would say I am not so," you said evasively.

"It would not bother me, I trained with the old hound that slept in our barn, he slobbered quite heavily," he laughed, "but I would be indebted should you allow me the treat of a true partner."

"I suppose…" you looked to the high table where Barnes scowled at Lord Rogers, entirely unconcerned with you for the first time in a while. Perhaps this was a chance; lose yourself in the crowd and you might find the opening you needed. Or perhaps merely a respite from him at least, "I do warn you however, I would not know where to place my feet."

May and Benjamin swept away as Peter came around to you. He offered his arm and you mimicked the other ladies as you took it.

He lifted his shoulders proudly as he led you to the floor, "only step around my own and I will do my best not to trod on your slippers, lady." He turned you in time with the music, your arms hooked so that you faced in opposing direction, "follow me and do not worry so much. No one is watching us so closely."

You smiled, a real smile that time as the strings and flutes filled your chest. As this kind stranger patiently guided you around the boards. You raised your chin as you did your best to stay on the beat but nearly tripped as your eyes met another pair.

Lord Barnes glared down at you from the high table, the only lord remaining in his seat, and his hand gripped the stem of his goblet tightly. Even at the distance, you felt his chagrin. And as he stood, your sole met Peter's toe but he only snickered and righted you.

"You're doing fine, lady," he assured as he spun and switched arms, you let him lead you dumbly as you watched Barnes descend from the dais, "a natural."

[haitanirindo]

zukka fics that live in my head rent free! 

1. what did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth (what were you digging) by draco_sollicitus status: complete (18k words) rating: mature pairing(s): sokka/zuko  summary: Sokka is immortal; it's been tested, he knows that he can't die. He's immortal, but he's not quite a god like his sister, Katara. He's immortal, but he's not quite powerful like his friends Aang and Toph. He's just sort of Sokka: good at fixing things, good at playing pranks, good at helping people. When a bet against Toph goes horribly wrong, and an attempt to save him goes even worse, Sokka finds himself the unwilling guest of the Lord of the Underworld. And, strangely enough, every story Sokka's heard about Lord Zuko seems to be ... completely wrong. (Also, he's really handsome. Why does he have to be handsome?)

mythology nerds come get y’all juice. a very good fic. 10/10

2. Where I Want to Be by through-the-stars-to-the-pavement status: WIP (83k words) rating: explicit pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: "'The fog was where I wanted to be.'" Everything is different. The pitch of his voice, his posture. The auditorium goes silent. No one can take their eyes off of him.… He's amazing.  Zuko had to perfect the art of acting as a child to survive the horrors of his homelife. When he got older, it was only natural to take his talent to the stage for entertainment and escape. Enter Sokka, a craftsman and set designer with a giant heart who is haunted by plenty of ghosts of his own. A tale of trauma, disability, family, creativity, and love. 

this is one of my all time favorite fics. it’s seriously so good and i think about it often

3. Teaching a Heart by @i-write-shakespeare-not-disney status: WIP (114k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: Sokka is asked to go to the Fire Nation to teach the crown prince how to sword fight. When he arrives, he's surprised to learn he has to pose as a companion before he can teach the stubborn prince because he rejects every teacher. Far from home and among new customs, Sokka struggles to gain the prince's trust and friendship despite the uncertainties of the customs and dynamics he sees. As he slowly finds answers to his questions, his bond with the prince grows until it becomes something far more ardent than friendship. Doomed as it may be with the prince's approaching wedding ceremony and coronation, Sokka and Zuko find themselves consumed by what they find in each other.

i have no words, i just love this fic and it makes me weep.

4. The Road Between Action and Inaction by @donvex status: complete (17k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: Sokka does a shitty k turn in the parking lot across from the bus station, pulls up to the curb where the boy is looking determinedly at his phone, and rolls down the passenger window. “Hey! Which way were you going?” He may die, but at least his conscience will be clear. The guy blinks at him. “Don’t.” Oh, he’s prickly. Or: the hitchhiker au, featuring Sokka and Zuko falling in love without even realizing it.

a classic. roadtrip fics own my ass. 

5. purrfect for eachother by lesmiserablol status: complete (3k words) rating: general audiences pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: “Let me teach you how to be a cat person,” Zuko says. “Learning from the master himself,” Sokka grins. “Alright, this can’t be too hard. Show me what you got.” (because sometimes, it takes going to a cat café four times to realize you're in love with your best friend)

this whole series is adorable, reading it is self care

6. Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by @muncaster status: complete (47k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko, aang/katara, mai/ty lee summary: Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes? (AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

i think this is the longest one-shot i’ve ever read and it’s so worth it

7. a study in matchmaking by @verdanthoney status: complete (12k words) rating: general audiences pairing(s): sokka/zuko, aang/katara, bato/hakoda summary: Zuko and Sokka try to play matchmaker, but things don't go exactly as planned.

this fic makes me want to scream, in the best way. it’s so cute

8. A Predictable Story by mindbending status: complete (7k words) rating: general audiences pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: "On this night, you shall share a kiss with a great love of your life!” That lying, scummy Aunt Wu predicts a grand romance for Sokka. To disprove her "fortunetelling" once and for all, Sokka decides to spend the night with least romantic person he knows. Zuko.

again, i have no words. this fic is cute as hell

9. that’s murder, buddy by @bisexual-atla status: WIP (14k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: Throughout the streets, on quiet nights, it was rumored the screams of those missing could be heard. Some say the sounds were coming from underground. Where were the young girls? And what was happening to them? Was an evil spirit haunting Gaoling, or something more human? More sinister? My name is Zuko, and you’re tuning into another episode of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’. Or: Sokka has no idea that his crush is the host of his favorite podcast. (But everyone else knows.)

i love the entire concept of this one, we love oblivious sokka

10. We’ll play hide and seek (to turn this around) by @crosspin status: complete (5k words) rating: general audiences pairing(s): sokka/zuko, bato/hakoda summary: Sokka gave him a sheepish smile. “It’s…well, you see, there’s this boy…” Hakoda sighed and set down the sports section. This was going to take a while. “He works at Barnes & Noble. At the big information desk in the middle. Every Saturday. And I really want to ask him for his number, but it’s super awkward because there’s always this other guy working the information desk at the same time. He’s old, like you. But I have a plan." Sokka’s eyes lit up deviously. “You come with me to Barnes & Noble today when they’re working and distract the old man. And while you have him distracted, I’ll swoop in and get the goods!” Sokka has a plan to ask out the cute boy at the bookstore. Hakoda is a begrudging participant until he meets the boy's beautiful older coworker.

this fic!! this fic! adorable, incredible, magnificent

11. feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe status: WIP (88k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: [Time passes oddly. Between one second and the next, Sokka has the Fire Lord pinned to the wall with his hands around the bastard’s throat. Golden eyes (one gold eye, his mind whispers) widen in shock. “Sokka?” he chokes out. And then he smiles. What the fuck? “Sokka, I—” Sokka slams his head against the wall, once, twice, and the smile wipes off his face. Good. “What,” Sokka bites out, “have you done to my sister?”] Or: An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends. Yeah, nah.

if you’ve been following me for a while you know this fic fucks me up beyond belief

12. breakable heaven by @fruitysokka status: WIP (43k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

this just in: sokka and zuko being oblivious makes me want to yell

this turned out a bit longer than i expected but it also doesn’t even cover all my favorites. i had to stop somewhere, or i’d be here forever. maybe i’ll make a part two someday.

anyway, enjoy!

[narrativelysignificantturtleduck]

so a while ago @volkswagonblues left a reply on this post saying that jeong jeong was an example of "someone who is ideologically 'right' but whose character is absolutely not likeable, or at least not in the mainstream fandom-popular way". i started writing this response, but i totally forgot it was in my drafts until i wrote my iroh analysis. it doesn't seem right for me to have an iroh analysis post and not a jeong jeong one so here it is, the jeong jeong character analysis nobody asked for:

volkswagonblues's response hits on exactly why i find his character so fascinating - he's good, but he's absolutely not nice or well-adjusted about it. and he's definitely not mainstream-fandom "likable". it's rare that i see hate for one of my minor character faves (one of the benefits of having them), but i have actually seen people say they don't like jeong jeong. mostly, it centers around him being "wrong" about firebending, as opposed to the sun warriors. i can see where that comes from. jeong jeong has the noticable accent and proverb-y speeches of the ~mystical asian master~ trope, but his viewpoint comes off as pretty harsh and simplistic. this can confuse an audience expecting easy answers from a kids show - are you supposed to see him as wise or not? for me, i think asking "are jeong jeong's beliefs wrong?" is the wrong question. instead, you should ask: "why does jeong jeong have those beliefs?"

and the more you think about that, the more you see that he isn't actually wrong. firebending is the only type of bending where the bender produces the element from their own body rather than using their surroundings. it is someone imposing their will on the world, even more so than the other forms of bending. iroh sums this up nicely:

"Fire is the element of power. The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will, and the energy to drive and achieve what they want."

there's nothing wrong with that in theory, but in the show, this drive and power manifests as the fire nation's imperialist conquest, and the goal they're trying to achieve is world domination. as a former high-ranking military official, jeong jeong has seen firsthand the ways firebenders use their power to hurt people. the culmination of the fire nation's ideology is a plan to burn the entire earth kingdom to the ground - exactly the kind of wide-scale destruction he describes in his first cautionary speech:

"Without the bender, a rock will not throw itself! But fire will spread and destroy everything in its path if one does not have the will to control it!"

you could say that firebending is misused by the fire nation, but that feels like a No True Scotsman fallacy ("that's not true firebending!"). the fact is, firebending's unique qualities fall in line with the nation's imperialist ideology. jeong jeong hates his bending because it is inextricably tied to the war he hates.

like many, i once thought a trip to the sun warriors would be healing for jeong jeong, but i've since realized that's not what he needs. jeong jeong is perfectly aware that firebending isn't always destructive - he counsels restraint and control, not total suppression, and he even alludes to sun warrior beliefs:

"Feel the heat of the sun. It is the greatest source of fire. Yet, it is in complete balance with nature!"

going to see some dragons who tell him that firebending is about the sun and life won't change his mind. 'of course it's not inherently evil,' he'll say. 'but it has been used in terrible ways'. his feelings aren't about firebending in the abstract. they're about firebending as it is used. that it has the capacity to support an ideology of conquest, that he and others have given into its destructive side and committed such atrocities with it. he's right to hate that. (i also feel like he'd resent the sun warrior civilization for their isolationism. i mean, i would, if i'd put my life on the line to fight against my nation and it turned out there were a bunch of people who agreed with me but did nothing about it.)

so if jeong jeong and the sun warriors aren't philosophically opposed (except re: their involvement in the war), why does his view of firebending seem so much harsher? because - and here we come back to the original point - he's not likeable. he's a strict teacher and plenty of us (especially if we were kids when we watched the show) have a knee-jerk negative reaction to that. his speeches about the danger of fire are grandiose. but here's the thing: the speech where he says the most derogatory things about firebending is not one where he's teaching. it's one where he opens up to katara:

"I've always wished I were blessed like you - free from this burning curse."

this reveal that he wants to be a waterbender means that everything he says to her about his bending is less about what he believes about firebending in general and more about his own personal struggles. and in that context, it's heartbreaking:

"It forces those of us burdened with its care to walk a razor's edge between humanity and savagery. Eventually, we are torn apart."

this is the core of it all - jeong jeong doesn't just hate the fire nation and its war, he hates himself, hates that he holds that destructive power inside him. he doesn't seem to struggle with the act of bending (another reason why the sun warriors wouldn't necessarily be any help) but he clearly doesn't want to do it, probably because it reminds him of when he did terrible things with it. no wonder he calls it a curse.

and so here's what we're left with: jeong jeong leaves the fire nation military because he is right that the war is wrong, and he counsels control and restraint in opposition to the imperialist ideology of constant expansion and conquest. however, he is severely traumatized and full of guilt from his participation in said imperialist conquest, and that means he comes off as harsh and overly negative. right, but not likeable.

while i was writing this post, i was rewatching a lot of clips from the show, and i got curious about his voice actor, who i suspected was actually asian (unlike most of the voice actors). it turned out i was correct - his name is keone young, and he's had a very long career - but he's hawaiian and doesn't have the accent that probably made me guess that. he has this to say about how he portrays the one-dimensional accented characters he often plays:

“I want to portray that person with an accent who is real instead of a stereotyped version of it," he said. "I’ve always wanted to see myself as the one the story revolved around so that it was my story not your story. I always try to convey I have some kind of philosophy or point of view.”

(read the full interview here)

i bring this up because while i think jeong jeong's memorability can partially be attributed to the atla writers giving him a cool backstory and dramatic lines, what keone young says here about taking a character who's a bit of a stereotype and making them seem real, with their own philosophy and point of view...well, that's exactly jeong jeong. despite his limited screentime, we get a clear picture of who he is and what he believes. and who he is is someone who fully embodies his radically anti-imperialist politics, who has come to his beliefs from traumatic experience that's made him bitter. as the atla renaissance pushes us to reevaluate these children's cartoon characters with older eyes and modern-day politics, it's worth looking at a striking minor character like jeong jeong, who might not be fandom-likable but who has a lot of depth to offer and a perspective worth considering.

[violetlilysunshine]

Late Night

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Summary: You meet Chris working in a bar, before he invites you to his house after closing.

WC: 3,525

Warnings: maybe a quick make out?? idk if I need to warn that, but better safe then sorry. Fluff, fluff, fluff 

A/N: I’m sort of feeling a part two, because I’ve been in such a fluffy turned smutty mood recently. Anyone down?? Lemme Know :)

Tagging the lovelies that wanted this! @maximeevansblog @saltyflowermakertaco

MASTERLIST

You’ve been working in this small bar for years now; it mainly catered to older folks, the owners having fallen in love with the 40s and 50s and themed their bar after that. You quickly fell in love with the decades as well, hearing the old music and seeing all of the older people’s faces light up, reliving their glory years. However, usually, there were a couple younger groups there to relish in the theme a bit.

You started as a waitress at 18, trying to work your way through college. Quickly, you moved up to bartender, before one slow night when you randomly decided to sing along to one of the songs that the Thursday night live band always played. They were a pretty good group, and you soon found yourself listening to the songs they played in your free time. After you sang with them, the owners decided to add you to the regular Thursday night entertainment, still bartending on other nights.

You were nearing the end of your set, just two more songs to go before you could take off the heels you had ridiculously decided to wear tonight. They were very 50s and you loved the look, but, carelessly, you hadn’t broken them in yet. You thought you would be fine, but your typical little dance during Fly Me to the Moon had suffered greatly. However, they matched your midi-navy-polka-dot dress and your pin-up style curls, so it wasn’t a total loss.

“Alright everybody, we’re getting close to that time of the night,” you hummed into the microphone, “for this next one we’re gonna slow things down a bit. To those of you I’ve been watching sit in your chairs all night, you’ve only got two more chances to ask your ladies to dance. Even if you don’t know how, ask her anyway, she'll love it.” you joked.

The band started to play Paul Anka’s Put Your Head on My Shoulder, a personal favorite of yours.

“And remember, if anyone needs a partner, I’m ready and willing,” you joked as the intro played. Quite a few times, older men who no longer had a partner took you for a spin for a song or two and you loved it.

You hummed a bit before you started singing along.

As you were singing, you watched a few of the younger guys in the back finally bring their girls out on the floor. Smiling as you watched them, you swayed back and forth.

You kept going with the song, almost at the end, glad that someone hadn’t asked you to dance, because your feet were really killing you.

You finally finished it off, earning a small applause as you twirled with the mic.

“Alright y’all, last song of the night and you know what that means as well,” you spoke to the crowd, “last call for alcohol,” you sang out.

You pointed back at the bar, and your friend who was tending tonight, before she waved at the group. A few people left the dance floor to get a drink as you continued your end of the night spiel, “fellas still sitting by themselves, last chance to take a spin on the floor. I see you still sitting there in the back! It’s a short song, I promise,” you chastised the last table you saw still sitting there.

Two couples from that table got up to dance, leaving one man sitting by himself. You felt kind of bad for turning everyone’s attention to him, but you had offered earlier to dance if anyone needed a partner, so the ball was in his court.

You signaled to the band to start up and spoke, “alright here we go,” into the mic.

It’s Been a Long, Long Time kicked off, and you instantly swayed. The band didn’t usually play this song, but after your Marvel obsession kicked in, you convinced them to add it to the set list.

You sang away, loving life, but your eyes didn’t leave the man in the back. He was obscured by shadows - probably purposefully - but you felt drawn to him already. Something about him sent tingles down your spine.

Before you knew it, the song was over. You took a small bow before turning and pointing at your band, getting the audience to applaud them individually.

“Thanks everybody, have a good night and drive safe. Hope to see you next week!” you spoke quickly and everyone filed off the dance floor to collect their things.

“Thanks, you guys, that was a good show!” you spoke to the band before you rolled up your mic cord and packed it away backstage. As soon as it was safely in its case, you took a seat on one of the saxophone cases and started rubbing your feet.

Soon, the band came back to put their instruments away and you reluctantly gave up your seat. You headed to the bar to sit with your friend while she finished cleaning up; this gave you a chance to rest your feet a little more before attempting to maneuver yourself home.

You glanced around the room quickly and everyone had cleared out except the back table. They were all standing, putting on jackets, and just beginning to file out the door. The couples went first hand-in-hand, followed by the single man. You looked back at your friend and began to make small talk about the next night, seeing as you were off, before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“That was a great set,” the man spoke out in a low raspy voice, “I wish I had a dance partner.”

“Thank you, but if I remember correctly, I did offer to dance with anyone. Anyone included you, Chris,” you quipped back lightly, chuckling.

“Well, doll, the way you were stumbling about up there, I didn’t want to risk it,” he joked back, “and you know who I am?”

“I’m gonna head in the back to finish cleaning up and then we can go,” your friend spoke, gently tapping your forearm. You usually carpool to work because you live a few houses down from each other and it just makes sense.

“Alright, sounds good,” you answered her before turning back to Chris, “well I did just sing Steve and Peggy’s song. I wouldn’t be doing it justice if I didn’t know at least its major history. And I don’t think I was stumbling.”

“Okay, fair,” he answered, “maybe stumbling wasn’t the right word, but I can tell your feet hurt in those shoes.”

A small silence settled between the two of you as you got lost in his eyes, barely registering what he had said. His lips curled into a small smile as he gazed back. His eyes darted from yours to your lips for only the slightest second, before wandering down to your feet, which you were rolling slightly on the leg of the barstool, attempting to massage them a little. He looked back into your eyes again, his smile growing. The tension in the room rose quickly, and you began to get a little hot under his gaze. You were wondering how you ever got so lucky to have Chris freaking Evans looking at you like that.

“I’d offer to get you a drink, but you did say last call a little while ago,” he spoke slowly.

“That I did,” you answered, “maybe next time.”

“Or, I could take you somewhere else,” he offered lightly, his voice raising in pitch.

“Hmm, I don’t know if my feet are up for it,” you said softly, “and I don’t know where else we would go on a Thursday night. Everyone is probably announcing their own last call.” You were surprised by your own confidence in front of him. You had no idea how you were keeping it together, let alone flirting.

“Another option,” he suggested, “I could offer you a nightcap at my place. Or maybe coffee? A glass of wine?”

“Eager there are we?” you quipped.

“Well, what can I say, that last song did it for me,” he chuckled, “but really, it would be totally casual, no expectations.”

You thought for a moment, weighing the options. He probably wasn’t a murderer, or a kidnapper. He was probably one of the gentlest guys you could go home with, and lord knows you’ve taken a few risks with others.

“Totally casual doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Really?” he asked, “great! Do you have a car here?”

“No, we carpool,” you said, gesturing at your friend who had just walked back into the room.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Actually I was going to head out with Chris,” you said, looking at him while you spoke.

“Oh, okay,” she said, her voice dropping slightly, “well, I’ll lock up the front and we can head out the back together then.”

“Great,” Chris answered, his eyes never leaving you.

You slipped your shoes back on and stepped down from your stool. You grabbed your purse from next to you and turned to grab your jacket, which was no longer on the back of your chair. You looked up and saw Chris holding it open for you and you slipped your arms in, your heart swooning wildly. You smiled at each other and followed your friend out the back.

You hugged her quickly, whispering “I’ll send you my location,” in her ear. After all, a girl can’t be too careful.

You followed Chris to his car around the front of the building, where he opened the door for you before jogging around to the driver’s side.

His car was nice, as to be expected, but not flashy and you enjoyed his modesty. It smelled freshly cleaned - a big plus - but also rode incredibly smoothly. You were more than content to drive around with him, listening to pop songs and belting out musicals, but before you knew it, he was pulling into his driveway.

He got out first, stepping out quickly. You waited half a second, sending your location to your friend quickly. As you were reaching for the door handle, it was being pulled from the outside. Always a gentleman, he is.

Chris flashed you a charming smile as you stepped out, swinging your purse over your shoulder.

“This way, darlin’,” he spoke lowly, shutting the car door. His hand was quick to find a home on your lower back, gently guiding you towards the front door.

Once up the stairs, he crossed in front of you, unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. The alarm on the wall chirped, signaling the opening of the front door. Chris quickly bent down with his hands in front of his knees, preparing for the impact. Dodger came flying around the corner having heard the chirp, and slammed right into his dad’s hands before jumping onto his dad’s legs begging for pets.

“Hey bubba, how you doin’?” Chris spoke to his best friend, rubbing his ears, “this here is Y/N, be nice to her buddy, no jumping.”

Dodger quickly took notice of you and immediately tried to jump onto your legs, a greeting you weren’t necessarily against, but since Chris said no, you quickly pushed your hand down and met him on the ground. He sat at your feet, immediately accepting your presence.

“He never does that!” Chris spoke, shocked at how quickly Dodger took to you.

“What can I say? I must be magic,” you joked and shrugged at him, making him laugh.

“Well let’s move out of the doorway, yeah?” Chris asked before closing the front door behind you.

Chris moved to the side of the hallway quickly; he kicked off his shoes and encouraged you to do the same. You happily followed suit, aching to get those damn heels off again. You sighed in contentment once your bare feet hit the cool hardwood floor, throwing your head back slightly, closing your eyes, and breathing deeply.

“That bad, huh?” Chris chuckled, waiting for you at the end of the hall.

“Oh yeah, I definitely have to get used to those before I try to wear them again,” you answered back.

“Well, follow me and we’ll figure out that drink I offered.”

You set your purse on the bench next to your shoes before following him into the kitchen. He strolled around the island, resting his forearms on the island.

“Take a seat, doll,” he encouraged you, gesturing to the barstools on the other side.

Usually you wouldn’t have obliged so quickly, offering to help him make whatever, but given the state of your feet, you hopped up quickly.

“Alright, so you have a lot of options, water as always, coffee, beer - my personal favorite - tequila, a slew of other liquor, juice, soda, milk, - which would be weird but whatever - wine, take your pick,” he said smiling at you.

“Coffee sounds good to me, to be honest,” you answered quietly. You would’ve chosen beer simply because it was his favorite, but you weren’t a big fan if you’re being honest.

“Coffee it is, gorgeous,” he answered, filling the pot with water and loading in the grounds, “milk, creamer, sugar, black? What do you like?”

“Milk and sugar would be good.”

“You sure? I’ve got peppermint creamer,” he coaxed you.

“On second thought...” you chuckled, taking him up on his offer.

“Alright, doll, peppermint it is,” he laughed.

Soon the coffee was ready and as excited to try the peppermint creamer as you were, you could’ve watched him flutter around the kitchen for days. He handed you a sleek navy blue mug, taking a red one himself.

“Shall we head to the living room?”

“Whatever you want, it’s your house,” you laughed.

“Alright, follow me,” he said, leading the way, “you too, Dodge,” he called over the island. Dodger had been sitting at his feet the whole time, watching his dad.

He settled into one arm of the couch, pulling the coffee table closer to rest your mugs on. He placed his mug down and gestured for you to join him. You sat on the other end of the sofa, gently, looking over at him. He threw an arm over the back of the couch, kicked his feet out in front of him, and turned his body towards yours. Dodger watched you sit down and looked at you, almost saying “you’re in my spot,” before turning around and going over to his bed by the fireplace.

“How’re your feet doing now?” he asked you.

“They’re okay, it may take a few days to recover,” you laughed back, turning to face him as well. You held your mug in one hand, bringing the other to your foot as you swung your legs up at your side.

Chris reached over towards your feet, pulling them into his lap, “here let me,” he spoke.

You blushed lightly at the very domestic action, but who would say no to a beautiful man rubbing their feet? He massaged them gently and you let out a little groan.

“You really don’t have to do that, but you’re so good at it I don’t want you to stop,” you told him.

“Well then I won’t stop, darlin’.”

He looked at you from across the couch, making your heart swoon again. You let out the quietest moan, enjoying the work of his hands, and closed your eyes.

Chris laughed lightly, whispering something to himself under his breath. You were a little lost in the moment, so you didn’t hear him.

“Sorry, what was that?” you asked him.

“Oh, nothing, just talking to myself,” he answered. You knew that wasn’t the case, but let it rest anyway; it couldn’t have been too important.

Chris started asking you about your work and friends and family, what kind of movies you liked, and music preference of course. You asked him as well, really getting to know each other. He had stopped rubbing your feet a long time ago, but kept them in his lap, an arm thrown across them, rubbing your shins and ankles lightly. Dodger was snoring loudly across the room, and had been for quite a long time. The both of you were so lost in the conversation, that you didn’t realize how late it had gotten. You glanced out the window behind him, beginning to see the sunrise.

“Oh my goodness, what time is it?” you asked him, chuckling.

He glanced at his phone quickly, “almost 5:00,” he said with wide eyes, “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said a little embarrassed, “I’ve stayed way too long, I’ll just get out of your hair.” You began to pull your legs out of his lap, but he locked them down.

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” he spoke quietly, “I’ve really enjoyed your company.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…” you trailed off.

“Positive, sweetheart. Please, stay.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” you asked him, raising an eyebrow. He nodded slightly at you. “Then I'll stay,” you said, settling back into the couch.

“Can I get you another cup?” he asked, gesturing to your mug.

“Sure,” you answered lightly, handing it to him. He got up and trailed into the kitchen. You waited half a second before following him.

Chris heard you walk into the kitchen, turning around to look at you quickly, “sorry, can I get you something else?”

“No, I’m fine,” you answered.

“Oh, well, uh… I would’ve brought your mug back to you,” he chuckled.

“Oh that’s okay, I felt weird just sitting there,” you laughed lightly.

“Oh, okay,” he chuckled back, “well, since you’re here now, can I offer you breakfast?”

You didn’t realize how hungry you’d gotten until he offered, “only if I can help,” you responded.

“Oh well, that’s a deal breaker, darlin’,” he answered, almost seductively.

“Well then no breakfast for me,” you laughed.

He was starving too, only having had a small dinner before he went to the bar last night. He didn’t know when you’d eaten last, so you must be hungry as well.

“Well, maybe there is one way, you can help,” he said in a high pitched voice.

“What can I do?” you asked quickly.

“Come here,” he said.

You walked around the island you had been leaning on, joining him between it and the cabinets on the wall. Chris extended a hand towards you. You took it quickly and allowed him to guide you closer to him. Once you were fully in front of him, he dropped your hand and grabbed both of your hips. He picked you up quickly, surprising you, before setting you on the counter.

You laughed lightly at him, “okay, now what?”

“Now, you sit there and look pretty while I make breakfast,” he chuckled out, standing between your knees, keeping a little distance between the two of you.

“Chrissssss,” you whine out at him.

“What, doll?” he asks, taking a step closer to you as you wrap your hands around his shoulders.

“I can do more than just sit here.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, taking another step towards you, now standing between your thighs, almost flush to the counter.

“Yeah, I can,” you breathe out, barely able to contain yourself now that he’s slotted between your legs.

“Nope, darlin’, this is enough help. Promise,” he says quietly.

Chris glanced down at your lips quickly before looking back into your eyes. He ran his hands up your thighs, starting at your knees, before settling onto your hips again. The temperature in the room seemed to rise at an unbelievable rate as you stared into each others’ eyes. You could feel his breath on your lips, you were sure he could feel yours as well, the smell of coffee and peppermint radiated between you. He slowly leaned in and connected your lips.

It was like time stood still. He moved one of his hands around to your lower back, pulling your body to the very edge of the counter and flush against his chest. The other hand stayed firmly on your hip, digging in just a little. You wrapped your arms around his neck even tighter as you molded your lips together. He licked your bottom lip slightly, asking for entrance, which you granted. He explored your mouth just a little bit before pulling back, breathless, and resting his forehead against yours.

“Well, that was, uh…” he spoke.

“Yeah,” you answered, breathless as well.

You held his gaze for another second before moving forward and kissing him once again. You pecked him sweetly, before mumbling against his lips.

“I’ll let you cook, as long as you let me clean up,” you laughed a little before connecting your lips again.

Chris let the kiss hang just a little longer than a peck before pulling back completely. He pecked your forehead quickly, before answering.

“No,” he said firmly, turning around and letting out a loud laugh, one you knew so well.

You laughed right back at him, watching him start to cook and shaking your head to yourself. How did you get so lucky?

[amor-immortalem]

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever ch.6

Previous

Warnings: major gaslighting, Lucifer being a horrible older brother, controlling behaviour, manipulation

if you want to be tagged please let me know or if you're already tagged and want me to stop tagging you let me know as well

taglist: @mediocredetective @it-hurts-when-i-blink

A/N: I don’t think I ever mentioned or implied it, but I wrote this with the intention of it being an AU.

The end of the work day was one of Arella’s favorite parts of the day- not because she didn’t like her job. It was quite the opposite actually. No, the reason the end of her shift was her favorite part of her day was getting to go home to Mammon and the home they had made together. And today she had special news for her beloved demon.

“Mam, I’m home!” The human calls as she rushes through the door, hanging her purse on the coat rack next to the door and her keys on the key rack next to that. “Mammon...?” When she gets no response to her calls, she sets about the house looking for the white-haired demon. It was odd for him not to meet her at the door.

She thought maybe he was just taking a nap so her first stop was their bedroom but when she didn’t find him there, or any place else she looked for that matter, she grew confused. Maybe he had just gone out for something- she did leave him money during the day in case he thought of something they needed from the store or anything of that nature, but his human world cell phone he had in place of the D.D.D. that he’d left at the House of Lamentation was sitting on their bedside table. Had he just forgotten it at home? Arella half expected Mammon to come walking through the door any minute now.

When there was a knock at the door, she went to go investigate it. She opened the door and to her surprise, Solomon standing there.

“Solomon? Well, this is a surprise.” She looks at him wide-eyed. “You didn’t say anything about coming to visit.”

“Sorry, I know it’s spur of the moment. Is Mammon home?” The sorcerer looks almost worried- like he’d been rushing to get here. “I text you earlier to warn you but you must’ve still been at work.”

“N.. No. I think he went out to get something- wait did you say warn?”

“Lucifer found you two a couple months ago. He’s been watching ever since. If Mammon’s not here then he must’ve made his move while you were away...”

Arella’s jaw dropped. He had found them? How? She’d been so careful but it just wasn’t enough apparently. She turned on her heels and marched in the house proper.

“Arella, what are you doing?” the silver-haired male follows after her.

“What do you think? I’m going to the Devildom to get my boyfriend back and give Lucifer a piece of my mind.”

“Arella wait. You can’t.”

“I think I can. It’s not like he can actually kill me- not when I hold a pact over him.”

“No, Arella, I mean you literally cannot. You’ve been banned from the Devildom for the foreseeable future.”

“I’ve what now?”

--------------------------------------------

It's only been a few hours since Lucifer forced Mammon to come home and he was miserable every minute of it. His brothers save for the eldest were all at school for the time being. He figured once they came home, they would laugh at him- at the way he thought he could leave them behind for his own selfish happiness. He plans on hiding away in his room for the rest of the night in silent protest. He’d stay here in this room forever if that would mean that his older brother would see how unhappy he was- but really, when has Lucifer ever cared about what made him happy. He wondered if any of his brothers would come looking for him when they got home.

--------------------------------------------

As dinnertime came around, the brothers had gathered around the table. It had been Beel’s turn for dinner duty so he got to decide their meal tonight. It was home-made ramen- Mammon's favorite- as a sort of show of good will. They all knew that the reason their brother had taken so long to come back from the human world that he had to be escorted back by force was because he was genuinely happier with the human than he was with them, but as a few minutes turned into thirty, a couple of them exchanged worried looks. Asmo placed napkin over the top of Mammon’s bowl so the food wouldn’t get cold when even more time passed and Mammon still hadn’t shown his face.

The Avatar of Greed wouldn’t join them until it was Lucifer who escorted him to the table, tugging Mammon by the arm like a father dragging his unruly child off for a scolding.

“Everyone, welcome our precious brother back.” He gave their brother a pat on the shoulder before going to take his seat. “Make sure he remembers how much we value his place in this family. How much we love him. He seems to be a little confused.”

The others looked between each other before looking toward the Avatar of Greed.

“’m not confused. I wanna go home... back ta where I belong.” The white-haired demon’s voice is quiet.

“Of course you are. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re already at home and in the one and only place you belong.” Lucifer picked up his chop sticks as he began to eat. He didn’t need to say it but the look he shot Mammon relayed it perfectly: ‘under my thumb,��

And it’s at this point the rest of the brothers turn to their own bowls, realizing that this is why none of them dared to step a foot out the line Lucifer had so meticulously constructed for them. This was the worst kind of punishment.

--------------------------------------------

The following three months were just as horrible for Mammon as that first day back. While his brothers hadn’t been particularly nasty to him, their presence was beginning to feel suffocating. One of them was always in his room trying to get him to do something with them- at least they were trying to be better. The only one he really took up the offer on was Satan who offered to study with him to get his grades back up because it was a necessity.

What was worse, Mammon couldn’t leave the house without constant monitoring from Lucifer. If he was at RAD, Lucifer was never out of ear shot. If he went out for a walk just to get some fresh air, Lucifer’s familiars were there to follow him until he returned back to the House of Lamentation. Mammon couldn’t even spend time in the Aviary with his crows- the only creatures that brought him some semblance of happiness- without the Avatar of Pride being more than a few yards off. He couldn’t go on like this much longer and still expect to remain sound of mind. It was overbearing, to put it mildly.

He had seen Solomon a few times in the halls at school. He wanted to talk to him- to see how Arella was doing, to relay the message that he was doing alright but he missed her. And the sorcerer looked like he wanted to give him something, often pulling out a white envelope for him, but each time the pair was interrupted by none other than the Avatar of Pride. He would confiscate the envelope from the silver-haired human and go as far as to burn it in front of Mammon with the coldest look in his eyes before escorting him to their next class together.

“Lucifer, please, jus’ let me read one letter. Just one, please?” Mammon pleads as they walked together after the latest letter burning incident. “I just wanna know how she’s doin’. Is that too much to ask?”

“No.” His voice is stern. “Mammon, can’t you see how bad she is for you? Look how unhappy you are now as opposed to before Arella came into your life. Back then you knew we loved you. She’s the one who put those outlandish ideas in your head so she could separate you from us. Arella played tricks on you. She didn’t take you away from us because she loved you, she wanted to use you- take advantage of you and your abilities.”

“No...” He takes a step back from his older brother, “No, ‘Rella wouldn’t do that. She loves me.”

“Does she though?”

“What?”

“Well, you yourself said her primary sin was greed, didn’t you? One of the benefits of keeping herself in your good graces is boundless wealth- we all know that. If you were in that position isn’t that what you would do?”

“Not that. I’d never mess with a person’s feelin’s for my own gain.”

“Mammon,” Lucifer’s voice is soft and firm as he placed a comforting hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “Have I ever lied to you unless it was to protect you?”

“No...” the white-haired demon says quietly. “Ya haven’t.”

“Then why would I choose to lie to you- my precious little brother- now?” He asks.

“I don’t know...”

“I wouldn’t. Look at you now. You’re so worked up over one insignificant, greedy human. Forget about her so you’ll feel better. I know this is a lot to realize so suddenly, would you like to go home and lie down for a bit?”

Mammon only nods as the eldest smiles softly and ruffles his hair just like he did when Mammon was small back when they were angels in the Celestial Realm.

“It hurts now, but you’ll be alright, Mams. You have your brothers. That’s all you need.”

Watching from behind the corner, Asmodeus’ eyes widened in horror. They’d heard the entirety of that exchange between their older brothers and they were in shock. As soon as the pair had gone, the strawberry-blonde-haired demon took off to demand an audience with Diavolo. Lucifer, in his attempt to keep Mammon under his control, was going far off the deep end.

--------------------------------------------

Next

find more on my masterlist

[secondbeatsongs]

After reading your four posts I HAVE to know what your thoughts are for the adult/older audience (I forget which they said its gonna be) reboot and what could it mean for the plot with Sam's actress not returning

I have heard of this reboot, and honestly? no thoughts. head empty.

well. maybe a few thoughts...

I haven’t heard much about what the actual plot is going to be like, though I have heard rumors that Freddie is divorced and has a kid, and that bothers me in ways I can’t get past

like, of course I know that in real life, there are people who are divorced and/or have children by the age of...26?

(no, wait - Freddie’s birthday is Feb 4th, and if they’re sticking with a ‘94 birth year, he’d be 27. and yes, I know that off the top of my head; shut up)

anyway yes, there are actual real-life people who are divorced and/or have kids by 27, but I think it’s a really weird direction to take the plot with him. in the show, his ending just killed me, and I’d hate for him to have been unhappy (or mostly living with his mom!) for the past 9 years

when it comes to Sam’s actress not returning - I mean, good for her, honestly. I’ve read only a bit of what Jennette McCurdy went through during her acting career, and I’m happy that she got out and is doing her own thing now. like yes, I will miss Sam because she was a great character, but Jennette’s happiness is way more important!

also, jesus christ, people have been vicious about there being new characters? and I genuinely do not care. so what? lots of shows add new characters during a reboot/revival!

the amount of racism people were hurling at the actresses for the new characters is despicable. there’s no other way to process that - it was horrible, and nobody should ever attack people like that. I feel so bad for the new actresses! they don’t deserve this at all, and it’s horrifying.

now, all of that being said...uh. I don’t really expect much out of this show.

look, you know me - I loved the original iCarly, even though it was very stupid, had really questionable morals at times, and made almost no sense! I adore it, and it makes me happy.

so I will be watching the iCarly revival...but I don’t expect it to be as enjoyable (or anywhere near as enjoyable) as the original.

it’s not their fault - that’s just how revivals work! nothing is ever going to be as good as (or better than) the original show. it’s just impossible.

(I mean, I’m holding out hope that Leverage will be, but that’s it, y’know?)

I fully predict that the iCarly revival will be disappointing. I think it might be boring, or unfunny, or try too hard to be “relatable” to a generation that it lost touch with 9 years ago. I am prepared to heavily dislike it.

and even though the revival will technically be canon, I reserve the right to ignore it if I don’t like it. and if I ever post one of my iCarly fics that I’ve been poking at since 2017, I will take joy in tagging them as not canon compliant, because there’s no way I’d change my work to reflect whatever probably-dumb decisions the show is probably going to make.

anyway, there is a bright side to all of this: I will now get to continue thirsting over Jerry Trainor! he grew his hair out again, and it looks nice! :D

so like. even if the show is bad, at least there’s that!

[nanasparadise]

“Your musketeer in a blue tunic” Yan! Polnareff x female reader (musketeer AU)

Hiya everyone! As promised, here is a Yan! Polnareff writing, since he was in the top four of the poll for the special but hasn’t reached the top three. I thought it might be a fun idea to make him a musketeer and now I’ve realised this fic turned out to be low-key a Belle and Gaston situation from Beauty and the Beast lmao. Anyway, there might be historical inaccuracies in the story, I’m sorry for that.

Summary: You’re a farmer woman in 18th century France and a certain musketeer keeps crossing paths with you…

TW: toxic relationship, noncon kiss, low-key harassment, forced marriage, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Word count: 3900

“Just about half an hour and I’ll be there”, you mumble to yourself. 

The pouring rain drenches your whole form, an icy cold having already nested deep in your bones. But you can’t stop now, even if it’s raining cats and dogs. You know you have to arrive to the main market place, which is located a good three hours from the farm you live in. If the wool – which you hope isn’t too wet, knowing the burlap bags aren’t protecting it well from the rain – won’t be sold today, you don’t know how you could afford some bread for your family. You think of your little siblings, how they always stare at you with big eyes, expecting at least some crumbs of stale bread in order to satiate their hunger a bit. Your heart aches painfully at that mental image. No, you’re going to sell the wool at all cost, no matter if it means you get sick due to the weather. You owe it to your loved ones, needing to protect and provide for them as the oldest sibling. 

A chilly wind blows intensely into your face, making you shiver even more. Lucky for you, no other person is currently on the road, meaning you’re in safety. You’re aware about how many sketchy men lurk in these streets by the countryside, just waiting for a young woman like yourself to pass by and to do God knows what with her. As a protection measure, you always carry a knife with you, hidden in your boot. Fortunately, you haven’t needed to use it, yet…

Suddenly, you hear the footsteps of a horse approaching you, the characteristic sounds of its hooves drawing closer to you. Your first instinct is to immediately pull out your knife, but you refrain yourself. 

“It’s probably just another merchant who wants to go to the market, too”, you think, comforting yourself. And even if that shouldn’t be the case, it would be wiser to take your possible aggressor by surprise with an attack if needed. 

The steps are now dangerously close to you, too close for your liking, until they come to a halt. Surprised, you stop your walking as well and look up to the person on the horse. Next to you on his steed is a man around your age, probably a few years older, with peculiar silver hair and bright blue eyes. Through his uniform, consisting of a characteristic blue tunic with a white cross on it, you immediately recognise the stranger as a King’s musketeer. You hastily curtsy and meekly avert your gaze, given that he’s of a higher social rank. Why would a musketeer want from you, a farmer? 

“Good day, Monsieur”, you greet the musketeer politely. 

“Good day, Mademoiselle”, the stranger answers jovially. “Please forgive my intervention, but what does a young lady like you travel alone on such a dangerous road?”, he asks you, sincere concern marking his voice. 

Why would he care? And why would he refer to you as a lady when you’re clearly just a commoner? You get the sudden urge to grab your knife again, but of course your rational brain side hinders you from doing so.

“I’m only going to the market place, good sir. I’d like to sell some wool”, you explain shortly, your eyes still not meeting the stranger’s. 

“All alone?”, the Frenchman wonders. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice, Monsieur. My father has to work on the farm and my mother looks after my younger siblings”, you reply truthfully. Honestly, you’d prefer not giving too much information away to the stranger, but lying doesn’t seem like a safe option either. 

“I see, Mademoiselle,” the musketeer utters politely, “in that case, I’d be pleased to escort you to the market place. After all, my heart couldn’t handle if something happened to a damsel.” 

“Thank you for your generous offer, Monsieur”, you answer civilly, curtsying gracefully again. Though internally, you sigh and roll your eyes at the Frenchman’s words. 

“More like his ego couldn’t handle getting rejected by a common woman”, you ponder cynically. You’re about to continue your walking as the stranger stops your action abruptly. 

“Wait a moment, Mademoiselle,” he shouted hastily, “I’ll take your bags and settle them on my horse.” The silver-haired man dismounts from his white horse and takes the bags filled with wool from your hands, placing and tying them on the animal’s back. 

“You are far too kind, Monsieur”, you say with an overly sweet voice. Lucky for you, the stranger doesn’t seem to notice the hint of sarcasm hidden in your tone. Instead, he smiles brightly at you, revealing a row of impeccable white teeth. 

“As a musketeer, it’s my duty to help a lady in need”, he boasts proudly. Again, you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Ah, how rude of me, Mademoiselle, I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Jean-Pierre Polnareff, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss…?” 

“Y/N L/N”, you reply meekly. 

“What a lovely name, Milady.”

~

The pair of you have been walking silently side by side for a while. You simply wish to arrive as fast as possible to the market place, wanting to get rid of Polnareff’s present. After some time, the stormy weather has changed into a brighter, more pleasant sky. Though some sun rays peek through the clouds, the cold from the previous rain remains. Upon seeing your slightly quivering form, Polnareff offers you a blanket he has in his supplies with him. Politely, you decline his offer. You certainly don’t want to be more in the debt of such a high ranking man. 

“I apologise if this may come across as rude, Mademoiselle Y/N, but I couldn’t help but notice that there isn’t a ring on your finger”, the musketeer suddenly mentions. The hairs on your arms stand up at his observation and you instinctively straighten your back. If Polnareff has seen your discomfort, he still chooses to continue speaking. “And you’ve said previously you’re living with your family on a farm. How come such a fair maiden like you isn’t married yet? I reckon you must have many suitors.” Something about his tone and the dangerous gleam in his blue eyes sets you on edge. 

“Oh, I do have had some suitors in the past,” you answer truthfully, but cautiously, “but I’ve chosen to not marry. My family needs me and I don’t wish to let them down.” Polnareff gives you a tender glance, the prying shimmer being replaced with sympathy now. 

“Maybe you’ll soon find a wealthy man who’s able to help your family out”, he mumbles softly, though you still could hear his words. 

“I’d rather not base my life on such an improbable dream. After all, I’m just a common farmer,” you say, slightly amused. “He doesn’t have a clue how life’s for a commoner, does he?” 

“So you’d like to marry? It’s your dream, didn’t you say that, Mademoiselle?”, Polnareff counters, hope swinging in his voice. Why is he hopeful? But you decide to not voice this thought. 

“Well, that’s quite a difficult question, Monsieur Polnareff,” you retort,  feeling unsure now “it would be the wisest choice for me to marry, but at the moment, I feel content to take care of my family.” For some reason, the musketeer’s face falls at your last sentence. Disappointment takes over it instead, his lips turning into a bitter, thin line. 

“Ah, I see”, he replies wearily. You immediately notice the change of atmosphere, though you don’t comment on it. Instead, you two continue strolling in silence.

Eventually, the pair of you arrive at the market place. During your travel, none of you spoke further, the mood being too tense and awkward. You settle your burlap bags on the floor on a free spot after the silver-haired man has removed them from his horse for you. 

“My sincerest thanks, Monsieur Polnareff.” You bow politely. Even though your eyes have been trained on the floor for only a matter of seconds, some stealthy thief has been able to snatch one of your bags. Immediately, your head leaps up. 

“Hey, this belongs to me! Give it back!”, you scream angrily. You wouldn’t let some trickster take your wool, not after working so hard for your family! You’re ready to run after the knave, but a hand on your forearm hinders you from doing so. 

“Let me handle this, Mademoiselle Y/N,” Polnareff says confidently, “you’ll have your merchandise back in no time. Just wait for me here.” Quickly, the musketeer dashes into an alleyway after the thief. Confused, you’re left alone at the market place, the man’s horse being your only companion. A sigh rolls off your lips. 

“Guess I’ll have to do what he says if I ever want that wool back”, you exclaim exasperatedly. This is the last thing you’ve needed today. First, you’ve been drenched by the rain, then a weird musketeer has started following you and asking you eerily invasive question and now your precious goods have been stolen. In the meantime, you try your best to sell the remaining wool.

After half an hour, you still haven’t sold any wool at all. Though you were definitely drawing attention on you by shouting out some offers, no one has seemed to be interested yet. No one even cared enough to look towards your direction. 

“I guess I’ll just have to stay all day, then”, you think gloomily. From the corner of your eyes, you notice an all too familiar form approaching you, though this time with a bag in his hand. 

“Mademoiselle Y/N!”, Polnareff shouts excitedly, “I’ve retrieved your bag from the thief!” A sincere expression of gratitude appears on your face. Yes, the man is more than annoying to you with his clingy behaviour, but at least he was chasing the trickster for you! 

“Thank you so much, Monsieur Polnareff!”, you exclaim happily, relieved to have your wool back. Now there’s only the matter of selling it left… 

“Of course, nothing to thank for, Mademoiselle! I’d never want to see such a charming lady like you in need.” 

Purposefully, you ignore his statement, an awkward feeling bubbling up in you. Instead you’re thanking him again. All the while, the Frenchman keeps staring at you with a look of fondness, a huge and proud smile adorning his face. In his mind, he’s just proven to you how capable he is of taking care of you and your family. How could you refuse him now? He’s literally your knight in shining armour! Or your musketeer in a blue tunic. It doesn’t matter, he’s practically your hero! 

Polnareff’s grin only widens at the thought of you swooning over him. The silver-haired man doesn’t know why he feels like this towards you. Maybe it’s because you just looked so pitiful when he saw you on that road, soaking wet from the rain. Maybe it’s his pride that doesn’t let him relent. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparked with determination and love when you talked about your family. Maybe it’s your radiant atmosphere, which draws him in like a moth. Maybe you’re secretly a witch who put a love spell on his poor self, making him a fool for you after having only met you. Maybe, maybe, maybe…  

Polnareff quickly stops his pondering. “It’s not of importance,” he muses, “as long as she’ll realise I’m the best choice for her.”

“I see you haven’t sold any of your goods yet”, the musketeer says, trying to sound casually. Though in his thoughts, he already has a plan schemed. 

“No, unfortunately not,” you reply, an exasperated sigh following swiftly, “but there’s still some time left until I have to return home. Surely, I’ll be able to sell some.” 

“You know, Mademoiselle Y/N, I’d rather not see you standing here all day, maybe even for it to be in vain,” Polnareff utters, concerning coating his voice, “let me help you, I’ll buy the wool.” Your eyes grow big at his proposition. Even though it’s more than a generous offer, especially after all he’s been through for you today, you can’t help but feeling alerted. Why would he go all these lengths for you? He can’t be that kind, there must be something he wants in return. 

“You’re far too generous, Monsieur Polnareff. I can’t accept such an offer”, you tell the musketeer, hoping he’ll actually drop his suggestion. But the Frenchman remains stubborn as a mule. 

“Ah ah Mademoiselle,” he tuts you condescendingly, “I’m a man of my word. How much would you like? Are two livres enough?”

Your eyes widen so much at his offer, you wouldn’t be surprised if your eyeballs fell out. Two livres? Is that man insane? The wool is hardly five sous worth! 

“I think you must have meant two sous, Monsieur Polnareff,” you answer him, still shocked. 

“Pas du tout, Mademoiselle. Two livres is what I said and what I meant. Or would you maybe want more?” 

Vehemently, you shake your head. Two livres… That would feed your family for at least three months! “No Y/N, you can’t take this offer!” Your thoughts interrupt you suddenly. Not only does your conscience forbid you from doing so, your parents would also wonder where all that money comes from. They might assume you’ve stolen it as no one would believe a stranger to be so kind to just give a random farmer way too much money. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you try again to change his mind, “I really don’t think you should-“ 

“Ah, there’s my pouch!”, the silver-haired man exclaims happily, ignoring your previous words. Eagerly, he takes two shiny coins out of it, pressing them in your palm. Admitting your defeat, you curtsy and express your deep gratitude again. Though a small part inside you does enjoy the fact of getting provided for.

After your exchange, Polnareff insisted on bringing you home again. You dislike the idea of him knowing exactly where you live, but that man’s stubbornness and pride is bigger than the Palace of Versailles. Which is why the two of you are walking back to your farm, the wool resting on Polnareff’s horse’s back. 

“What are you doing with all the wool, if I may ask?”, you say with a questioning look on your face, “Surely, a musketeer doesn’t need to fabricate his own clothes.” The Frenchman rubs sheepishly behind his neck and offers you a smile. 

“Ah Mademoiselle, you see, I might just donate it. I’ve just wanted to help you out, I don’t need it myself.” Even though you still cannot bring yourself to trust him, your heart warms at his statement. 

“That’s indeed very noble of you, Monsieur Polnareff”, you reply candidly. The musketeer sends you another bright grin, a subtle blush forming on his pale cheeks.

The sun has begun to set as the two of you arrive on the farm. With a polite curtsy, you’re ready to finally return home, excited to tell your family the good news regarding the money. But Polnareff stops your goodbye. His hand finds its way to your wrist, halting your movement. 

“Before we must depart, Mademoiselle Y/N,” he counters hastily, “I’d like to be assured that we’ll meet again soon. I find myself enthralled by your presence.” 

Your heart beats faster at his proposition. Suddenly, you realise the dangerous situation you’re in, the big hand capturing your smaller wrist. Could you really deny him without facing consequences? Thoughts like these rush through your head as the man in front of you keeps waiting for your reaction. Still, you’re going to try. If something should happen, you still have your knife with you and your father would surely rush out once he hears your screams. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you start hesitantly, “I’m deeply flattered by your words. You are truly an admirable and honourable man whose kind actions shall always carry my most sincere gratitude. Though I must admit, I don’t think it would be a wise idea to meet again.” The Frenchman makes a crestfallen face at your words. You feel almost bad for him. “Ah, I think I should explain myself further. Well, Monsieur Polnareff, we are of two different social classes, continuing mingling with me would put a bad reputation on you. I cannot offer you something of interest. Plus, I like staying with my family so far, this is my home.” 

“Y/N”, Polnareff whispers affectionately, his thumb rubbing softly on the inside of your wrist. You shoot him a surprised look, confused by him dropping the formal title. If anyone would have heard this, they’d turn it into a scandal. 

“I know my offer might appear strange to you, but I wish to marry out of love one day. I’m aware it’s fairly uncommon and even looked upon with scorn to marry below someone’s station, but the matters of the heart outshine the matters of the mind in my case. I have more than enough money, a comfortable estate and an honourable title. So you’re correct by saying you can’t offer me anything. Though you forgot one important thing, dear Y/N: you can offer me companionship, love, a meaningful bond between two souls.” Upon his last sentence, Polnareff tenderly grabs both of your hands in his, admiring how they seem to fit perfectly. Too astounded by his words, you let the man do as he pleases. Quickly, Polnareff catches on with his speech. “Please Y/N, let me see you again. Let me court you properly. I can give you and your family a beautiful life, a life you deserve.” The silver-haired male’s form moves now closer to yours, his blue eyes fixated on your lips. This action breaks you from the spell you’ve been caught in previously as you abruptly rip your hands off his grip and step back. 

“I’m sorry, Monsieur Polnareff,” you manage to say, your voice sounding breathless from the adrenaline rushing in your veins, “I don’t think I’m the right woman for you. I do not wish to disappoint you further, that’s why I’m being direct with you. I’m going home now, please do not seek out for me. Have a good evening, Monsieur Polnareff.” You give him one last glance, noting his furious facial expression, before you eventually walk rapidly the path up to your family’s farm. 

“I’ll be coming back, Mademoiselle Y/N!”, you hear the musketeer shouting behind you, “I’m not giving up that easily!” His sentences only make you pick up your pace as fear makes itself present in your body. Why couldn’t he just respect your choice? You’re sure there are enough suitable ladies in his rank pining for him, so why would he bother you? Finally, to your happiness, you arrive at the front door. Quickly, you enter your home, locking the door from the inside. Still, it feels as if a pair of blue eyes continues burning holes in your back…

The following month had been both positive and negative. Positive, because your family didn’t need to worry about food thanks to the two livres Polnareff gave you. Negative, because the latter had been true to his word and kept showing up at your place. Every time you told him you won’t change your mind, the musketeer only seemed to be more encouraged to prove you otherwise. 

Today isn’t any different. As you make your way to the market to buy some food, you hear the familiar hooves approaching you. Annoyed, you let out a sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Bonjour Y/N! What a pleasant day to see you again, mon amour!”, Polnareff exclaims happily while he dismounts from his horse to walk next to you. 

“Bonjour Polnareff”, you reply politely. In the meantime, you’ve dropped the titles when you two were alone, not seeing the point of them anymore. Plus, the Frenchman even decides to call you pet names, so why showing him respect? 

“Ah, ma puce, no need to be so cold today! After all, I bring some splendid news”, the Frenchman replies excitedly. You eye him suspiciously, brows knitted together. What on earth is he planning now?  

“And that would be?”, you answer matter-of-factly. “You’re finally leaving me alone?” 

“You see, before I came to meet you, I’ve finally talked with your parents.” At these words, you immediately stop your steps. A feeling of dread emerges in your stomach, making you feel sick. 

“Oh no,” you think desperately, “this can’t be good.” 

“Very lovely people, indeed. It hurts my feelings knowing you haven’t invited me to them, mon cœur”, Polnareff continues his talk, a hand put on his chest in mock concern. 

“And why should I have done such thing?”, you reply coolly, though internally you’re freaking out. You already know you won’t like the answer… 

“My dearest, how come you act so cruel? Don’t you think your future husband should see your parents? After all, we’re betrothed now!” 

“No”, you retort without thinking. Your palms grow sweaty, a deep fear manifesting in your body. The silver-haired man smirks at your reaction. 

“Non? I think your parents disagree with you, ma chérie. In fact, we’ve already picked out a date for the ceremony. Can you believe it? In two months, we’ll be finally one.” Panic overflows your mind, your breathing becoming laboured. How could your parents decide on such a matter behind your bag? After everything you’ve done for your family? Polnareff notices your stress as he softly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to his chest. The musketeer tries to comfort you by shushing you and gently brushing over your back, though his actions only fuel your terror. You squirm in his grasp, trying to escape him, escape this situation, but his grip on you only strengthens. 

“Let me go!”, you scream all while tears stream down your cheeks, “I don’t want to be with you! Why can’t you just accept that?” 

“My little Y/N,” Polnareff mumbles calmly, “if you hadn’t  been so stubborn, we could have discussed the wedding plans together. I know you think our union is not favourable, but if even your family agrees to it, it surely can’t be that wrong, hm? You’re so blinded by your little provincial life that you can’t see what’s best for you. And trust me, my dove, I’m the best choice.” The Frenchman grabs your chin, staring lovingly in your by now puffy eyes. “It’s fine if you need some time to realise that. As long as you remain by my side.” With these words, the silver-haired man puts his mouth on yours, his hand now wandering to your cheek. You wriggle harder in his grasp, though your attempts to escape remain futile. Tenderly, Polnareff caresses your face as his lips finally leave yours. 

“Je t’aime de tout mon cœur, mon ange*”, he whispers adoringly, pressing your face against his chest again. Your tears smudge the blue fabric of his tunic, your voice hoarse from screaming. And even though you wish this is but a nightmare, you start comprehending you’re truly trapped in Polnareff’s oh so loving arms for the rest of your life.

*former French currency. 2 livres are about 30 euros, which was a lot of money back then

*former French currency. 5 sous are about 3,70 euros, which was still quite some money back in the day

*”I love you with all my heart, my angel”

[whythehellnaut]

The secret brilliance behind Nickelodeon All Star Brawl‘s marketing

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the Nickelodeon fighting game after it was announced, progressing from mild interest to ironic excitement to unironic excitement for it.  So many jokes and memes have been made about it that they’re almost impossible to avoid.  But when I thought about it, I realized that that’s exactly what the marketing team for this game wanted.  The idea of the game is so absurd that no one would expect it to exist, but they figured out a way to make absolutely sure that it would create just the right buzz to get people like me to take serious interest in it.

Watching the trailer again, I figured out that every character they picked to showcase in that minute and a half trailer were carefully and strategically chosen to cater to as many people as they could.  Even the order of their appearance had deliberation behind it.  Here are my thoughts:

Michelangelo comes first, establishing that the game is combat focused.  After all, who better to show off first for a fighting game than a character that has already appeared as a playable character in at least two of them?  Plus, the Ninja Turtles are the oldest characters in Nickelodeon’s library when you consider that they first aired in the 80′s, before Nickelodeon even started making cartoons.  This is a character that everyone recognizes, parents included.

Lincoln Loud comes next, a more modern character that adults might not know but kids will.  This is to quickly lure the kids, who have less patience than adults, into watching the rest of the trailer, assuring them that it won’t just be older characters like the turtles that show up.

Powdered Toast Man comes next to snatch up the other side of the equation, the adults/90′s kids who remember him from the original Ren and Stimpy show from 1991.  I’m not sure if it’s still airing as reruns on Nick today, but considering I hear very little about the show online, I’m guessing not.  This is a bit of a surprise to the adults who thought it’d be a kids’ game, so it lures those folks into staying for the rest of the trailer as well.

Sandy is important to show off early for a number of reasons.  Spongebob is popular among kids and Millenials, and is arguably the only property here as well known as Ninja Turtles, so they’re luring in more fans.  It also serves to imply that other Spongebob characters will join, as, even though Sandy’s passion for karate makes total sense for her to appear in a fighting game, you still can’t leave out Spongebob himself.  Showing her first implies more possibilities of characters to come, proving it won’t just be a festival of protagonists like Jump Force was.  It also shows off their female representation to keep women interested.

Patrick is just a fan favorite to get out of the way before the sponge shows up, so he’s only here to confirm that the game is going to be full of characters that people actually want to see.

Oblina was personally a shocker to me, as I barely remember Ahh Real Monsters from my own childhood, but I remember enough to know that she wasn’t the protagonist, necessarily.  I also know it’s relatively obscure in comparison to Spongebob or Ren and Stimpy, so they proved that they are willing to take characters from more obscure shows that the young kids won’t remember.  This solidified my interest as I could tell that they are doing more to cater to the 90s generation than just confirming Powdered Toast Man.

Nigel Thornberry is arguably their most important addition at the halfway point.  Outside of Spongebob characters and maybe Stu Pickles, I would say Nigel is the internet’s favorite Nickelodeon character to use for memes.  The marketing team had to have known this.  After getting some of the core audiences hooked, they now have the memer crowd invested, ready to spread the word about the insanity of this game’s premise across the internet.  This is exactly what happened, and why the trailer has 2 million views on Youtube right now.

Lucy Loud is shown off quickly to remind the younger crowd to keep watching, and to add a little bit more female representation.

Spongebob is shown off a little bit late, but since we were expecting him to show up, it’s just to make sure the casual fans who only know the big names stay watching.

Helga is an older character, but I recently saw a young kid wearing a Hey Arnold tee shirt at the supermarket, so I’m positive it’s being shown as reruns on Nick today, so most Nick fans of all ages will be excited about her.  Moreover, since she came immediately after Spongebob, who is a protagonist that was introduced after Sandy, a side character from his show, it gives an implication that Arnold will also appear.  Although he is not introduced in this trailer, it allows the fans to speculate that he will soon be showcased, perhaps in the next trailer.  Also, she’s the fourth female character shown, confirming that the game is being fair and inclusive to both sexes and not simply catering to male gamers, like say, Jump Force or Dragonball Fighter Z.

Reptar is another shocker, because although Rugrats is very popular and well known throughout the generations, he is a very, very minor character in the show.  He is literally a fictional character within a separate fictional universe.  The marketing team threw him in to show off that just about any character from any Nick property, no matter how minor or obscure, has a chance of making it into this game.  Again, this forces the fans to speculate about future announcements with even more creative thinking, as we now know that it won’t just be major characters joining the fray.

Zim is a well thought out choice because he caters to a specific crowd that I’d describe as the alternative niche.  That is to say, there are people who are fans of Invader Zim who don’t watch other Nick shows, so they are luring in the folks you’d expect to see at Hot Topic and the like.  It was an edgy show with a feel and fanbase unlike other shows of its era, so it’s important to use him to diversify the roster.  They also showed off Gir as his assist, and although that may deconfirm him as playable, it still pleases the fans, who often prefer Gir over Zim.

Danny Phantom is the only character that comes strictly from the 2000s era, so they are making sure to maintain the attention of the teenagers who watched that show as kids.

Leonardo seems like an odd choice to end on, maybe even anticlimactic, since they started with Michelangelo, but it makes sense when you think about it.  They couldn’t show just 1 turtle, or else it might imply that the game’s roster was small.  But if they showed all 4 turtles, they would have needed to leave two other characters out of the trailer to make room for them, and they didn’t want to make it look like a Turtles fighting game with guest characters.  So having exactly 2 turtles allows them to show off enough characters from other properties, while also confirming unofficially that the other turtles would appear later, since you can’t just have 2 of the 4 turtles in the game.  By leaving it open like that, they’re giving an implication that the roster is going to be huge.  So big that the turtles were just a small portion of it.  They end the trailer this way to leave the crowd speculating again: how many characters will appear in total?

The only characters that curiously don’t show up in the trailer are the cast of the Avatar franchise, who are quite popular.  However, one of the stages shown is clearly the Air Temple with Aang’s glider in plain sight, implying that Avatar characters will be announced later.  Another smart move to instill hope in the fans.

Finally, the Rollback Netcode announcement that came afterward solidified a very important group- the serious/competitive gamers.  For those who don’t know, rollback netcode is relatively new technology that speeds up online gameplay to cut down on input lag, which is super important for fighting games in particular, as they rely on strict timing more than other game genres.  It’s so new, however, that not all competitive fighting games use it.  Popular tournament fighters like Super Smash Bros, Tekken, and Dragonball Fighter Z have not implemented rollback netcode for their games yet, so of all games, Nickelodeon All Star Brawl beating them to the punch is causing a stir.  This is a sign that the devs are putting serious effort into making the game enjoyable online, which could potentially help its chances to be taken seriously in competitive settings.  Only time will tell if that truly happens, but it’s a sign of quality, nonetheless.

So ultimately, this short trailer and announcement manage to cater to dang near every crowd that may want to play it: Kids, teenagers, young adults in their 20s and 30s, parents in their 40s, men, women, memers, casual fans, alternative fans, and serious gamers, and opens up a ton of potential for speculation regarding new announcements.  That’s a fantastic way to start off and explains why this game, which for all intents and purposes should have been nothing more than a thought experiment that people joke about in the car with friends, has been trending so much for the past two weeks.  Congrats to the marketing team for what they put together.

[thetravelerwrites]

Courtship of the Headless King: Chapter One

Rating: General Audiences Fandoms: 忘却の首と姫 | Boukyaku no Shirushi to Hime | The Princess and The Forgotten Head Relationship: Female Human/Male Headless King Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Political Marriage, Power Dynamic, Headless King Words: 4366

This is not my original work!

This is a fan retelling of one of my favorite mangas, Boukyaki no Shirushi to Hime, whose original mangaka sadly passed away in 2014, leaving the series unfinished. I will start at the beginning of the manga and go through the entire story that has already been written. Once I reach chapter 20, which is the end of the published chapters, I will have to start extrapolating and imagining how the story may have played out. I hope I can do the original story justice and not disgrace the original author.

I will say that I will be fixing a few things that made me uncomfortable about the original manga, in that the female protagonist was 15, which I didn't like. Otherwise I will try to stick as close to the original story as possible, though I will be arranging it so that it's a bit more linear.

I hope you enjoy!

“Blessings to you, my lady,” The visitor said, bowing deeply in greeting. “My name is Aquamarine. I am a servant of the high king of Banfarie and a chosen attendant to the future queen.”

The summons wasn’t necessarily a shock, but it was definitely a surprise. Lilya, the third princess of the former kingdom of Tritsia, had come of age during a bloody war between kingdoms to either side, and her small, impoverished land had been caught in the crossfire. Tritsia had been absorbed by the victorious kingdom to the east, Couliea, and was now a vassal state. As such, the royal family of Tritsia were now hardly more than paupers in their own kingdom.

Lilya assumed that she would no longer be eligible for the marriage interviews that were famously, or perhaps infamously, conducted five times every month in the largest empire in the continent, Banfarie. The interviews had been happening since before she had even been born, but as of yet, no queen had been selected. Or rather, no woman had accepted.

The rules for who would be chosen for the interviews was standard for most monarchs looking for a queen: a woman of royal or noble blood with proof of lineage, at least eighteen years old but no older that twenty five, no previous marriages or engagements, no children, and… well… consent.

Lilya met most of the criteria… except for one thing: she wasn’t a high born woman anymore. Her family’s royal status had ended when the kingdom was absorbed into another. Besides, even when her father had been king, they had never exactly been what anyone would consider proper royalty. Her father worked in the fields with his people, doing the same back-breaking labor as his subjects. Back then, she could hardly be called princess, but now she was nothing more than a peasant farm girl, more suited to feeding chickens and mucking out stables than attending grand balls and high teas.

So there had been quite a stir when their unusual guest came to deliver the summons. She was a woman who appeared very young in age, no more than perhaps sixteen, though she spoke as if she were a far older creature. She had a short bob haircut and a thick fringe, but it wasn’t enough to hide her pointed ears, her sharp eyes, and her upswept eyebrows, belying a nature that wasn’t human.

Her cloak was plain, but well-made and of fine cloth, likely silk or satin. She had all the hallmarks of a servant of a wealthy, prosperous nation. She had been given entrance to the house by the only servant Lilya’s family employed, Sebastian, and was standing in the receiving room with Lilya’s mother and aunt.

“I come with greetings from my Lord King, to relay a question and to present a gift to you, beloved princess.”

Lilya tilted her head. “A gift? His Majesty didn’t need to send a gift.”

Aquamarine simply chuckled and bowed. “From his Majesty, with his kindest regards.” From her cloak, she produced a velveteen box and opened it, revealing a tiara of breathtaking beauty. Sizable diamonds and sapphires lined the circlet and rose up to create a lovely sloped and winding style like that of wind on water. It was a crown that would suit any head it rested upon.

“Oh!” Lilya breathed. “It’s breathtaking!” She rushed to her mother in delight. “This is the answer to the famine on the outskirts in the south! If we sell the tiara at the biggest market in the neighboring kingdom, we could feed the farmers for months, maybe a year!”

“Lilya!” Her aunt exclaimed in horror. “How could you suggest such a thing? This was a gift from a king, for goodness sake, you can’t just sell it!”

“But, Auntie, I can’t hoard something like this when people are starving!”

“You would not wear it?” Aquamarine asked, her face shrewdly assessing. “Is it not to your liking?”

“Oh, no, that’s not it at all!” Lilya insisted earnestly. “It’s lovely, more so than anything I’ve ever seen. I’ve never worn anything so extravagant. But… truly, for me to wear it would be like putting silk ribbons on a pig. It would be far less useful as a trinket in my wardrobe and better as a tool to feed the hungry. I’m afraid that Couliea doesn’t pay much attention to our struggles, so we have to fend for ourselves. This,” Lilya gently took the box from Aquamarine and turned it so that she could see the tiara properly. “This is indeed a kingly gift. This will save lives. There is no more noble a gift as that.” She bowed her head and handed the box back gingerly. “If his Majesty would not be pleased with my conduct, I understand, but I would hope he would see the sense in my actions.”

Aquamarine laughed a little. “I do not think his Majesty will be displeased. Quite the opposite. Even still,” Aquamarine set the box down on the table and carefully pried a dangling jewel from the very center, threading it through a silver chain she had worn around her own neck, and placed it on Lilya. “His Majesty will want confirmation that his gift was received. This will suffice.”

“Then I shall wear it to the marriage interview,” Lilya said, patting it fondly.

Aquamarine’s head cocked back in surprise. “I had not even had the chance to ask you, and yet you’re agreeing to go?”

“Well, yes,” Lilya said. “That’s why you’ve come to call on me, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Aquamarine said with a smirk. “But usually it takes much more convincing on my part. I don’t believe I’ve ever met someone so… eager.”

“At the very least, I have to thank him for his generosity,” Lilya said. “Even if he decides I’m not a good match for him, I have to express my gratitude in person.”

“You’re not scared? I’m certain you’ve heard the rumors about my Lord King.”

“Well… yes,” Lilya admitted. “I won’t lie and say I’m not apprehensive, but kindness like this can’t go unacknowledged. It’s only right that I meet with him.”

Where Aquamarine’s smile had been playful and mischievous before, it was now wide and warm. “I will happily go now and inform his Majesty of your decision. My sisters and I will return in a fortnight to collect you for your interview. You may bring a guest with you, if you wish, though I assure you that you’ll be quite safe in our care.”

“I have no doubt that’s true,” Lilya said, bowing. “Would you like some refreshments to take with you on your trip back?”

“How kind of you, dear, but that won’t be necessary,” Aquamarine said, patting Lilya’s cheek. “We shall return in two weeks. You make sure you take care now. Our Lord King would be much distressed should something happen to you in the meantime.”

Aquamarine snapped her fingers, and there was a flash of light from which everyone in the room had to shield their eyes. When they blinked, the young woman was gone.

“Witch...” Sebastian said in horror. “My Lady, you can’t meet with this monster! What kind of king employs such demons?”

“Likely someone who understands that people like them also need to earn a living, I’d imagine,” Lilya said reasonably. “Besides, I’ve already agreed and accept his gift. I can’t go back on my word.”

“I can’t believe you’d actually sell such a treasure,” Your aunt said disapprovingly. “You’re so like your father.”

She didn’t mean that in a good way. Lilya’s mother’s sister, Kiya, had always disliked her father and resented him for being too weak a king, unable to protect his people during the war. She had also resented Lilya ever since she had been born. There was worry that Sophie would not be able to carry another child at her age, and that the royal line would end as there would be no male heir to Tritsia.

The birth of Lilya’s little brother shortly before her father’s death was not enough to warm Kiya to Lilya. In fact, it seemed to drive the wedge even further, as Sophie and her brother were both terribly weak afterward and there was concern they wouldn’t survive. Kiya had gone so far as to blame Lilya, telling her that it would have been her fault if they died. As a nine year old, she couldn’t imagine what she’d have done to cause such a terrible thing, but now she understood it was just her aunt lashing out.

Perhaps it was because Lilya resembled her father the most out of all her siblings, or because she was most like him in temperament, but she doubted Kiya would ever view her favorably. She was still family, though, and Lilya tried not to take her criticism to heart, though her aunt’s cutting eyes often wore into her painfully.

“I’m doing this for our country, even if it no longer exists,” Lilya said, determinedly putting the box away in a case so that Sebastian could take it to the neighboring kingdom for appraisal. “The king has called for me. The least I can do is answer.”

“Lilya’s right, Kiya,” Lilya’s mother, Sophie, said reluctantly. “It would be improper for us to take his gift and ignore him. Though I can’t say that I’m pleased with the idea of this.” Sophie sighed unhappily. “Lilya would have been expected to marry soon as it is. I supposed we couldn’t hope for better than a king.” Sophie took her daughter’s hands in her own. “Still, I’m very worried. I should come with you.”

“No, Mama, they need you here. You’ll have to be the one to make sure that the tiara gets a fair price and oversee the distribution of the food to the needy. I’ll be fine on my own, and besides, Aquamarine said that she and her sisters were part of the Queen’s guard, and I liked her very much. I couldn’t be any safer.”

Lilya’s mother grimaced. “That doesn’t make me feel better. You have many lovely qualities, my sweet child, but being a good judge of character is not among them. All anyone needs to do is tell you a sad story for you to want to take them under your wing, regardless of their true intentions.” She smiled fondly. “You’re much like your father in that respect.”

Lilya smiled in return. “Father was not a good king,” She said sadly. “But he was a good man.”

“With that, I cannot argue,” Sophie said, but she frowned in distress. “You’re elder sisters had married before they got the summons, so I’ve never met with the king. Your father met with him only once, during a conference of kings, but he never told us anything about him other than he found him to be… striking. I think he didn’t tell us more because he want to frighten us.”

“Have you heard much about him?” Lilya asked anxiously.

“Reports are varied and hard to believe; that the king is a headless monster, thousands of years old, ten feet tall, winged and hulking, who eats the women who refused him. I’m not sure I believed any of that, but the rumors are still enough to make me trepidatious.”

Sebastian grumbled, his mustache shuddering. “It is the rumors that could be true that make me uneasy.”

“How do you mean?”

“I am an old man now,” Sebastian said. “Well into my seventies, so I remember when the interviews began sixty years ago. In all that time, and no queen of Banfarie has been chosen. It concerns me. The king himself may now be an old man.”

“Is that why he’s being turned down?” Lilya asked.

“No, young madam,” He said. “You see, even before the interviews began, Banfarie had no queen in nearly one hundred years. In fact, since that time, no new kings had been crowned, either. The king from one hundred years ago was an elusive man who few had ever met, and those who did were terrified of him. If the current king is that man’s successor, it’s certainly distressing. But if he is the same man, then he is a creature of deeply evil magic, and Lady Lilya should stay far away from him.”

“Even if he were the same man, which should be impossible, his reputation is less than ideal,” Sophie said pensively. “The house of Banfarie is known historically for it’s cruelty and harsh punishments, even of neighboring kingdoms. It instituted a law that allowed Banfarie to make judgments on the conduct of royals, indict them criminally, and even sentence retribution against them, up to and including execution. The neighboring kingdoms pushed back against this, of course, but eventually they all fell in line and wrote it into their countries’ laws. I don’t trust any man who could wield that level of power over others.”

“But think of what that level of influence could do for Tritsia!” Kiya said. “A king with that kind of power could protect us and provide for us!”

Sophie shivered. “I don’t want to know what he would want in return for that protection.”

“Well, I would think that’s be obvious,” Kiya said, looking pointedly at Lilya.

Sophie, normally a mild, even-tempered woman, grew angry. “And you’re alright with that, are you? You’re willing to sell my youngest daughter to a monster if it benefits you?”

“Sophie, don’t be sentimental,” Kiya said, folding her arms. “Political marriages are common for royalty. If we had been a stronger country, this would be completely normal, even for a third daughter.”

“We’re not royalty anymore,” Sophie said firmly.

“But we could be, that’s the point!”

“Please, don’t fight,” Lilya said, getting between the two sisters. “I’ve already made the decision. Kiya is right; if I were to marry His Majesty of Banfarie, our kingdom would then be his responsibility rather than that of Couliea. However he treats that responsibility, it can’t be worse than the wanton destruction from the war or the indifferent cruelty of Couliea. If he accepts me, even if it is only a political marriage and nothing more, it would greatly benefit us both. He would at last gain the queen he’s been searching for and our country will be protected. I will meet him. Perhaps the rumors are wrong.”

“I can only hope,” Sophie remarked grimly. After throwing an angry look at her sister, she pulled Lilya away from Kiya and spoke in an undertone. “But… is this what you really want?”

“I want my family and people safe and well above all,” Lilya said. “If this king can offer that, then I can ask for nothing more.”

“If this is what you wish,” Her mother said slowly. “Then I will respect it. But… it is not what I would wish for you.”

“I know, Mama,” Lilia said. “We don’t always get what we truly wish for. But this is as close as I can get.”

“If the king accepts you,” Lilya’s mother remarked sadly. “We may never see you again.”

“That may not be true. I would hope that his Majesty wouldn’t prevent me from seeing my family once I settle in.”

“Just be careful, my love,” Her mother said, pulling her into a hug. “Be careful.”

As promised, Aquamarine returned in a fortnight to collect Lilya to take her to the capitol of Banfarie, Rukruf. A carriage had come with them for Lilya’s comfort.

“Couldn’t you transport me like you did the day you first came?”

“I’m afraid that’s a rather disorienting way to travel for humans, My Lady,” Aquamarine said, taking Lilya’s luggage. “It would require some degree of acclamation, and I don’t think his Majesty would want you to be sick during your interview.” She lifted Lilya’s bag up with one hand. “Is this all you’re bringing with you?”

“This is all I have,” Lilya replied simply. “You admit that you’re not human?”

“I was never attempting to hide it. I’m a spirit, specifically an stone spirit, as are my sisters. There they are now.”

She jerked her head toward the carriage. There were two more women identical to Aquamarine near the carriage, one in the driver’s box and another holding open the door to the carriage. All three women had short, pale lavender colored hair and large, glittering eyes. They wore identical uniforms similar to that of an attendant, but the skirts were rather short, stopping just below the knee, giving them a freer rang of movement. Each one had a dagger hanging from their hip.

Both new sisters bowed deeply as Lilya approached.

“My lady,” They said in unison.

“Garnet,” Aquamarine said, pointing to the driver,and then to the coach-woman. “And Peridot.”

“I don’t doubt the three of you are sisters; I can’t tell you apart,” Lilya said.

“Ah, but see?” Peridot said, pointing to a white bow on the right side of her hair in the shape of a butterfly. She then pointed to Garnet, who wore a black butterfly bow on her left side, and to Aquamarine, who wore no bow at all. “Even people who know us well have trouble distinguishing us from the other, so we’ve taken to wearing these. Only his Majesty can tell us apart without them.”

“Here, my Lady,” Peridot said, swinging a beautiful, fur-lined, snow-white cloak around Lilya’s shoulders. “We’ll be going through the mountains and it’s likely to get cold. His Majesty had this made for you.”

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Lilya said, petting the soft, veltvety collar that ruffed around her neck. “I’m starting to get anxious about meeting him.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” Peridot asked ash she helped Lilya up into the carriage.

“I can’t tell,” Lilya replied, laughing nervously.

“Don’t be nervous,” Peridot said as she came in and closed the door behind her, rapping sharply on the roof before settling. “His Majesty is only a threat to humans.”

Lilya looked at Peridot in alarm.

“It was a joke,” Peridot assured her, giggling. “…mostly.”

The carriage lurched forward and Aquamarine put a hand out to steady Lilya before she fell out of her seat.

“When will we arrive?”

“Around sunset tomorrow,” Aquamarine replied. “We’ll continue on through the night rather than stop at an inn. His Majesty is eager to meet you.”

“Won’t you be tired?” Lilya asked.

“Not to worry,” Aquamarine said. “Spirits like us don’t need much sleep, only a few hours a week. We’re all rested up.”

“That’s amazing. I wish I could do that.”

“Yes, it is awfully handy,” Peridot said rather smugly. “Are you hungry? We’ve brought things for you to eat.”

The two days passed pleasantly and Lilya spent the time having long, friendly conversations with all three sisters. Lilya had never had lady friends her age, and though the women were spirits and likely far older than she was, they seemed to enjoy her company and asked her many questions.

“Oh, Lady, come and see!” Garnet said, pointing out of the window. “You can see the capitol city from this vantage!”

Delighted, Lilya looked out of the window where Garnet was pointing. “It’s huge!” She exclaimed. “I can’t even see the end of it! It must be as large as my entire country!”

“Your country is larger by about fifty miles, in fact,” Aquamarine said. “It’s the smallest country on the continent.”

“Yes, that sounds right,” She sighed. “I mean, I didn’t know that for sure, but I’m not surprised.”

“Are you sad to be from such a small country?”

“No,” She replied. “My country is beautiful and my people are good. I just wish we were better able to defend ourselves.”

“Well, you may not have that problem anymore,” Aquamarine said. “We’re nearly there.”

“Will I meet his Majesty today?”

“No, you will be tired from the trip and will rest for tonight. He will conduct your interview tomorrow after you have your breakfast. His Majesty has instructed us to see to your every comfort.”

“That’s just going to make me more anxious,” Lilya said.

“The best things are worth waiting for,” Peridot said.

That evening, they arrived at the castle, which was every bit as colossal as described. Over it was a cloud of purple, blue, and pink particles, as if it were perpetual sunset over the castle.

“What is that?”

“It’s called the Aurora,” Garnet said. “It’s a magical field that has existed over the castle for hundreds of years and is the source of the royal family’s magical power. It ascends and descends over the castle, depending on how the king feels. It’s highly reactive to his emotional state.”

“Oh, goodness,” Lilya said. “It’s rather low right now. What does that mean?”

“Hmm…” Garnet said. “I believe he may be feeling rather withdrawn.”

“I wonder why that would be,” Lilya mused.

Standing at the front steps of the castle as they pulled up were two young men in uniform, one blond and one dark haired. The blond wore glasses and seemed to be the junior of the two. They bowed as Lilya exited the carriage.

“Miss Lilya, these are the King’s personal attendants, Larima,” She gestured at the dark haired one first, and then to the blond. “And Raba. They are meeting you in place of his Majesty today.”

“Does that mean his Majesty is watching?” Lilya asked, looking up at the windows.

“Whether he is or is not,” Larima said as he straightened. “We are pleased to meet you, My Lady. Please allow us to show you to your room.”

“Yes, thank you,” Lilya replied. Curiously, she noticed as they turned that there appeared to be leaves growing out of their hair.

The sisters were following behind her at a short distance. “Are they spirits, too?” Lilya asked them in an undertone.

“Yes,” Peridot said. “They’re tree spirits. All of the staff employed at his Majesty’s main castle are not human.”

“Why?”

“His Majesty distrusts humans,” Aquamarine replied.

“But isn’t his Majesty human?” Lilya asked in confusion.

“Yes,” Peridot responded.

“And no,” Garnet said.

Lilya made a noise of uncertainty under her breath.

“Don’t worry, my Lady,” Garnet said. “You’ll understand tomorrow.”

“This is all very ominous,” Lilya said uncertainly.

“Yes!” Peridot said. “Isn’t it exciting?”

Before she could answer, she was lead to an opulent guestroom, far larger than any of the rooms in her home, filled with luxurious furniture and carefully crafted decorations.

“This can’t be my room,” Lilya said with a laugh. “What would I do with all this space?”

Raba and Larima exchanged looks. “Do you dislike it? We have a number of other rooms. You’re free to choose any one of them.”

“Oh, it’s not like that,” Lilya said hastily. “It’s beautiful, I adore it. Please, it’s not that I’m ungrateful, I just feel like… I don’t know… isn’t it wasted on me?”

The triplets sighed sadly, having become used to Lilya’s unusual behavior, but the men continued to look confused.

“You do realize that if his Majesty chooses you and you accept, you’ll be queen?” Raba asked. “This,” He gestured at the room. “Is nothing compared to the queen’s suite.”

“Oh…” Lilya replied, a little disconcerted. “This will take some getting used to.”

“I understand,” Larima said. “You’re the princess from Tritsia, correct? The smallest, poorest kingdom on the continent, now a captured vassal state of Couliea. I suppose you must not be accustomed to living so resplendently.”

“Larima!” Aquamarine hissed. “Don’t be so tactless!”

Lilya laughed a little, relieved. “No, it’s alright. I’m not used to this at all, that’s true. Will that bother his Majesty?”

Larima smiled and shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t think so. Don’t worry so much about what’s appropriate and just enjoy your time here. Come.” He lead Lilya inside and showed her two cords right next to the bed, a small blue cord and a larger red cord. “The blue cord is attached to a bell in the queen’s attendants’ quarters. If you need for anything, just ring it and one of the triplets will be here in an instant. The red one is an alarm. If you pull it, bells will go off all throughout the castle. Ring it only if it’s an emergency.”

“I understand,” Lilya said. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Raba and Larima bowed and left, and the triplets ushered Lilya into an adjacent dining room to have dinner.

After a restless night of sleep and a breakfast she barely touched, Lilya was dressed in a lovely blue gown that complimented her hair, which was pulled back with matching ribbons. The bodice was tight but comfortable, the cut of the dress was simple but elegant, and for the first time, Lilya felt like a proper grown woman.

A knock on the door revealed Raba.

“His Majesty is ready for you and is waiting in his office,” He said.

Lilya stood and clenched her hands to stop them from shaking and followed Raba out of her quarters with Garnet and Aquamarine following behind her.

“Don’t worry, my Lady,” Garnet said. “I think the king will like you very much.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes,” Aquamarine replied. “We’re more concerned whether or not you’ll like him.”

“Why wouldn’t I like him?” She asked.

“Well…” Garnet began regretfully, but then stopped.

“Here we are,” Raba said, gesturing to a set of large double doors. “One moment please.” Raba knocked on the door. “Your Majesty, I have retrieved Lady Lilya for her interview. Are you ready?”

There was silence, though Raba tilted his head as if he were listening.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Raba opened one of the doors and stood aside. “You may enter.”

Gulping, checking that the pendant was in place, and taking a deep breath, Lilya stepped inside.

There, standing rail-straight behind a desk, was a tall, thin man wearing elaborate garments in keeping with his status as a king and emperor, as well as a sash and badges of his station. Almost immediately, one of the many rumors about the king was confirmed with Lilya’s own eyes.

His Imperial Majesty, the king of Banfarie, had no head.

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Bo-Katan Kryze’s Age

Or rather, it’s not polite to talk about a lady’s age, except in this Lady’s case

How old is Lady Bo-Katan Kryze by the time she appears in The Mandalorian? 

We don’t have a canon answer, but we can get pretty close. And yeah . . . it’s a weird answer. But it’s not without reasoning.

Though Bo’s exact age has not been explicitly confirmed, Bo-Katan is in her mid-60s by Mando S2.

How did I get to that conclusion?

1. Dave Filoni has implied that Bo-Katan and Satine are twins, or at least very close in age.

At least twice, Dave, who has said that he has an “extensive genealogy of Clan Kryze,” has referred to a formative event that happened in the Kryze family when "[Bo-Katan] and Satine are six.”

The first is in a YouTube video (source listed in reblog, or search YouTube for the title listed below)

You ask yourself why is [Bo] acting one way & why was [Satine] a pacifist? I have a theoretical backstory that outlines them even at six years old—the two of them—& what transpired to make them who they are today.

- Dave Filoni, The Clone Wars Hangout - February 2, 2013, start at 28:15

The second is in an interview with IGN (source listed in reblog)

I have a rather lengthy backstory that even explains how [Bo] became a Death Watch soldier that goes all the way back to the time she and Satine are six. Because to figure out how she got to that point, and yet Satine is a duchess… I have a whole story about who their father was and what their relationships were and everything with Vizsla, going back for a very long time and how that intersects with Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

- Dave FIloni, IGN Interview, 2013

Both of these sources come from shortly after The Lawless aired in 2013. Yes, it is possible that Dave has since backtracked on this idea, however, until we know more, that’s unwarranted speculation (however, we’ll speculate on whether or not Bo could be younger than her mid-60s by the time of The Mandalorian later).

-

2. Bo-Katan (and Satine) are close in age to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Even establishing that Bo and Satine are probably twins or close in age, we don’t have a canonical age for Satine in order to solidify how old they are. However, we do know that Satine is close in age to Obi-Wan Kenobi. They fell in love together while they were on the run together during the time that he was a padawan. 

Because this is all we know, the reasoning behind Bo’s age has to rely on Obi-Wan birth (57 BBY). I’m willing to allow for a slight difference between Obi-Wan and Satine & Bo, but it can’t be much (especially since we know that Satine begins ruling Mandlore immediately afterwards). Thus, we’ll consider the difference basically negligible at this point, and just assume that Obi-Wan, Satine, and Bo were all born in 57 BBY.

That makes them 38 years old at the time of Satine’s death in The Clone Wars (19 BBY). Bo and Obi-Wan are about 56 when they appear in Rebels (1 BBY), and Bo is about 67 years old by the time of The Mandalorian Season 2 (~10 BBY).

So yeah. That’s definitely different from how Bo looks in Mando S2. Katee Sackhoff is 40 years old (about the same age as Bo in The Clone Wars), but they really did not try to age her up at all.

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Could Bo be younger?

So, just for the sake of argument, could I be wrong about all this? Let’s say that Dave has backtracked on his original plan to have Bo and Satine be twins. Could Bo be younger? And by how much?

If Dave backtracks on them being twins, he’ll probably have to backtrack on the story that he had about something happening to Satine and Bo when they were six that had a formative effect on why Satine became a pacifist and Bo a warrior. 

(Though it’s only speculation, I’ve always assumed that event was the death of their mother, so in my mind, Bo can’t be more than six years younger than Satine, but I could be totally wrong about that headcanon)

But let’s say that just for the sake of argument, Bo is quite a bit younger. Let’s say she’s 15 years younger than Satine, and that would make her a little older than 50 in The Mandalorian Season 2 (still over 10 years older than Katee). That means that she would have been about 23 years old at the end of The Clone Wars. 

There’s nothing that concretely denies this, but we do know that Bo’s nephew, Korkie is about 18 at that same time (he’s listed as being in his “late teens” in Season 5, in the original novelization of The Lawless), and it’s just hard for me to believe that Bo is only five years older than him. She’s clearly much closer to Satine’s age.

Plus, making her that much younger robs Bo and Satine of a connection that they clearly had at one point. In The Lawless, Satine says that it’s been a long time since they’ve seen each other and that there was a time when the two of them weren’t enemies. Again, there’s nothing concrete here, but I’d have a hard time buying an actual enemies-life feud between them when, for example, Satine is 25 and Bo is 10. 

Impossible? No. But personally, I just don’t think that’s what Dave is thinking about.

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Was her appearance in Mando S2 intentional, or was Bo’s age simply forgotten/ignored?

As I mentioned, Katee Sackhoff is 40 years old, but they really did not try to age her up in The Mandalorian, even though Bo likely is in her mid-60s.

While this is strange, I do not believe that this is an oversight. Dave Filoni loves timelines, and Katee has said that between takes all they would do is sit together and Dave would tell her everything about Bo’s backstory and work through all the timelines with her. 

So what could the explanation be? Well ... it could be an out-of-universe explanation. It could have been decided not to age Katee at all in order to make her as instantly recognizable as possible in live-action for those who already knew her from the animated shows (I struggle with this though, because some streaks of grey in her hair would not make her less recognizable, especially with that iconic armor).

However, there could be an in-universe explanation. Instead of having Katee play someone who looks like she’s in her mid-60s, Dave may have decided to have her play someone who doesn’t look like she’s in her mid-60s (but still is).

Some options include: 1. Canonizing the idea that was present in the EU that Star Wars humans simply live longer than regular humans (personally, I’m not a fan of this because we’ve never seen characters aging in a way different from Earth humans before, so I think it would set an awkward precedence).

2. Giving Bo herself a reason for why she looks much younger than her age. The one I’m most fond of is the idea that maybe for most of the time between TCW and Rebels, Bo was stuck in carbonite (perhaps by the Empire for some reason). 15 years in carbonite would allow her to be 65 but act as if she’s 50.

3. Hanging a lantern on the whole situation by saying that “wearing a helmet in the sun really keeps the wrinkles away!” or something like that. Bo’s in great shape. She’s led a healthy (if dangerous) life, but it’s not unheard of for people in their mid-60s to be very athletic. However, I do think that if that’s the fact, it still needs to be explicitly referred to.

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Will we learn more in the future?

I sure hope so. Katee has basically confirmed that Bo’s story will be ongoing and she expects/hopes to be in The Mandalorian Season 3. It’s possible we’ll learn more about Bo’s backstory (including how old she is), and hopefully we’ll get an explanation for her appearance. 

Katee has said that she desperately wants to know more about the story of Bo and Satine, and how Obi-Wan/Satine’s relationship affected Bo as well. Those are all things that Dave has expressed interest in exploring:

I’d give you more detail [about Bo and Satine’s backstory] except I’d like to tell that story at some point in some form of Star Wars media in the future. I’ve discussed it with a couple people, and we’ve started to architect it into the timeline of Star Wars somewhat, just to see where these things fit.

- Dave FIloni, IGN interview (2013)

So I’m just clinging to the idea that perhaps some day, we’ll be getting more answers. Bo’s appearance in The Mandalorian and bringing her story to a more general Star Wars audience certainly bodes well for more details on the Kryze family story in the future.