#but no one would ever accuse the royal family of having a sense of humor

[gingerblivet]

Roommate: Did you hear, King Charles has cancer?

Me:

[solatude]

ATLA Unpopular Opinions

I’ve had some thoughts about various aspects in Avatar: The Last Airbender. So, in order of least to most controversial, here we go:

Sokka looks better with his hair up. Sokka’s wolf tail is one of the more unique hairstyles in the show, at least for the guys. He looks so basic with his hair down. The wolf tail adds to his personality, his dramaticness, and humor. How can a water tribe warrior fight with hair in his face? Please also refer to his topknot in Book Three.

Sokka didn’t have as much pull as fans think he does. Pull, in this context, means to attract someone romantically/sexually. First of all, Toph is a child, so I’m not counting her because a 12 year-old crushing on a 15 year-old should be nothing more than that---a crush. Yue and Suki pulled him first, as he fell for them before they fell for him. Suki could care less for the sexist guy who insulted her on her own island; but teaching him the ways of the Kyoshi warriors, plus a kiss on the cheek had him blushing---HARD! He thankfully changed his mindset after that. Yue, while she barely had a choice, had accepted her role as princess and was prepared to dedicate her life to the values of her tribe in an arranged marriage. The amount of times she ran away from Sokka was both tragic and hilarious. But that only made Sokka want her more, she never chased him. To be honest though, he was probably the first guy who treated her normally, despite her status. I think she mainly wanted a friend, but was surprised to find a potential lover in Sokka. Plus he made her laugh. Ty Lee thought he was cute, but Ty Lee thinks everything is cute. That is all. If you wanna talk about pull, Aang had Zuko risking his life chasing him for three seasons (I’m joking, don’t think too deeply about that).

Azula and Katara are almost equal in power. I get that Azula is a firebending prodigy, but sometimes her skills are overestimated by fans and she’s made to seem as though she can overpower everyone. It makes perfect sense that she lost to Katara in almost every fight. Before meeting her, she’s only ever fought nonbenders, firebenders, and earthbenders. She never had experience fighting a trained waterbender, so her losing to Katara shows that even she has her limitations. Whenever she did win a fight against her, it was because she got help from her friends, brother, or subjects. Katara never hesitated to fight her, and being 14 years-old herself, allowed for an even exchange of combat. Let’s be honest, what bender would go up against Azula fearlessly except the one who’s element puts out fires?

Ursa was not a bad mother. Ursa was a victim of an abusive, arranged marriage. For context, Fire Lord Azulon wanted Ozai to marry Ursa because she was the granddaughter of Avatar Roku, and he felt that they would produce powerful heirs to the royal family. Ursa was forced to leave her village, family, and fiance behind for this marriage; because who would dare turn down the request of a Fire Lord? Ursa never really loved Ozai, but he never cared. He just wanted to increase his status and power. Ursa is often criticized for giving Zuko attention over Azula, while scolding Azula and not showing her any love. However, Azula was praised by Ozai, and as a result showed more of an obedience towards him. Ozai showed a great disdain for Zuko. Ursa was simply doing her best to show Zuko how much he mattered. He was living in his sister’s shadow, while being neglected by his father. I also really feel for Azula, because she was only valued for her firebending skills, and she probably had no emotional outlet that she trusted to help guide her. However, I do think Azula was too far along for her mother to really help her. Ursa encouraged Zuko to play with Azula; she genuinely wanted her children to get along like any other parent. I just don’t think there was anything she could say or do to encourage Azula to be less destructive and show remorse for her actions. She should have never called Azula a monster, but she was a woman filled with fear. She feared her abusive husband and the repercussions of speaking out against him, she feared the destructive tendencies of her daughter and the ways she hurt other people without caring for how they felt, and she feared for Zuko’s life for not living up to the impossible ideals of the royal family. Ursa was not a perfect mother, but she tried given the little power she had. Also, to be fair, we only see Ursa’s life from Zuko’s perspective in the show. Azula probably had many memories with Ursa but she most likely blocked them out to hold space for firebending forms and her father’s approval; one of which she never really secured.

Bloodbending is overrated and unnecessary. Some fans claim that Katara should have had a more positive reaction to becoming a bloodbender. However, it was never in her character to be so controlling, especially against another person’s will. Bloodbending is also not as useful as it’s made to seem. Since one can only bloodbend on a full moon, you would have to wait an entire month to even utilize the skill. That’s extremely inconvenient and because you have to wait until nighttime, it’s even less practical. How often does Team Avatar fight during the night compared to the day? They would be sleeping if anything. Also, when your team consists of an agile airbender, a master waterbender, a powerful earthbender, and a weapons strategist, plus Appa and Momo; why would anyone need to bloodbend? Most of the Gaang’s enemies never required that level of power in order to be defeated. Bloodbending is also VERY niche. If this is allowed, should bonebending be allowed since there are minerals in bones? Should soundbending be allowed since sound is produced from vibrations? I admit it’s a really cool ability, but it’s not that important in the grand scheme of things. Also, speaking of Katara...

Katara gets too much hate. I’m not sure if it’s the surge of new fans since the Netflix debut or the repressed thoughts of old fans but lately Katara’s character has been mercilessly criticized. It’s been said that she brings up her mother too often, and that she’s overly emotional and selfish. First of all, Katara was eight years-old (and Sokka nine) when her mother was murdered. During the run of the show, only six years have passed since then, as she’s 14 when she finds Aang. She lives with survivor’s guilt due to her mother lying about who the last waterbender was so that Katara wouldn’t be taken prisoner. Unfortunately, the firebender soldier Yon Rah wasn’t taking prisoners that day, implying that he was going to murder her. Katara mentions her mother only a handful of times, usually to relate to another character who lost someone close to them in an effort to empathize (Aang, Haru, Jet, Zuko). People forget that she saw her mother’s dead body after running to get help. It was definitely wrong for Katara to tell Sokka that he didn’t love their mother the way she did in the Southern Raiders episode, and she definitely should have apologized. But, she was right. Sokka was shown to be closer to his father. She was in extreme emotional pain and instead of being comforted, she was criticized by Aang and Sokka for wanting revenge. How many times has Katara sacrificed something for the sake of others? She barely had a childhood considering she took on a maternal role in her tribe after her mother’s death. She had to deal with Sokka’s sexist comments, she had to suppress her talent for waterbending, and she felt isolated and alone because the one parent that was alive left to fight in the war. When someone needed encouragement, Katara was always there to encourage them. When someone needed help, she never hesitated to assist them. She often put herself in harm’s way if it meant someone else didn’t get hurt. For a 14 year-old girl in a war torn world, she is immensely brave. How many times has Zuko gone on and on about his honor, or lashed out at his Uncle for a seemingly small reason? How many times has Sokka talked about meat? Or Azula and her speeches about controlling and manipulating people? Toph and her rebelliousness? Even Aang’s laid back attitude turned into carelessness every now and then. Every character has a crutch that they attach themselves to, but Katara isn’t given the grace that other characters have been given. Yes, Aang lost his entire nation, and Katara would never know what that felt like. However, Aang wouldn’t know how Katara felt either. Aang was in the presence of children his age and was able to travel around the world to make friends (i.e. Bumi from the Earth Kingdom and Kuzon from the Fire Nation). He was taught to be less detached, so his idea of family is very different from Katara’s. He never witnessed the dead bodies of his people firsthand, though he did see Gyatso’s skeleton later on. Katara grew up in a world ruined by war. She had little to no friends, and the one person she was closest to left her life very early. Her tribe was VERY small and I doubt she had a lot of people to talk to. She had never left the Southern Water Tribe before, so it’s very likely that she was going to stay there her entire life had she not met Aang. She’s been accused of not allowing Sokka to feel sad about their mother, but why should she? It’s not Katara’s job to burden the weight of Sokka’s emotions, especially about their mother. She cannot force Sokka to open up about his feelings, that is something he must do at his own free will. Sokka hides his pain behind his masculinity. He’s protective because he feels guilty about not being able to do anything to help his mother. He doesn’t even remember what she looks like, he could only picture Katara’s face in her place. He felt even worse when his father left and he, understandably, couldn’t go with him. Sokka is not upfront about how he feels, but Katara should not be blamed for that. Overall it may be said that Katara was a flawed character that has recently been more scrutinized for her flaws than acknowledged for her strengths. We can do both, but there’s been an imbalance. She successfully revolted to free Haru’s father as well as other prisoners of the Fire Nation. She guided her friends out of the Si Wong desert despite the obstacles that stood in their way. She healed Aang and Zuko when shot by lightning, ultimately saving their lives and the lives of many other people who have been physically hurt by someone. She even washed Sokka’s underwear and sewed his pants. We can cut the girl some slack if she wants to talk about her mother, can’t we? She’s the glue that holds everyone together. Katara’s emotions make her a stronger fighter. Her trauma has shaped her into someone determined to master waterbending and has allowed her to be more empathetic to those around her. But she shouldn’t have had to go through all of that. She was forced to mature faster in order to survive. Katara can sometimes be arrogant, misguided, oblivious, and doubtful, yes. But she is also resilient, brave, selfless, and generous. That is the duality of her character. She is NOT to be disrespected. After all, as she said to Sokka in The Painted Lady, “I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me!”. And she hasn’t.

Iroh should be banned from the Earth Kingdom. It’s not an unpopular opinion that Uncle Iroh is a war criminal, but I just don’t think he should be allowed anywhere near the Earth Kingdom; either temporarily or permanently. Yes he played an instrumental role in Zuko’s redemption, with tea in his left hand and wisdom in his right. However, that does not excuse his invasion of Ba Sing Se. He laid siege to the impenetrable city for 600 days. Surely hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people died under his commands. He broke the lower ring, home of the poorest members of the Earth Kingdom. The only reason he stopped was because his son, Lu Ten, died in battle; not aware that many citizens also died as a result of his actions. How many children’s lives has his army taken away? How many sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, aunts, uncles, and grandparents have died under his siege? Not only does he get to establish a business and earn money, he is elevated to the upper ring of the city; meanwhile an entire population can barely afford food and stable jobs. I understand that is was for plot purposes, but It’s a slap in the face to allow him to thrive in the city after Aang defeated Ozai. His wanted poster should be everywhere, not just for supposedly betraying the Fire Nation, but also for crimes against the Earth Kingdom. The very least he could do was shut down his tea shop and hand the building over to a family who may need it, and establish a tea shop in the Fire Nation. I’m not saying Iroh couldn’t be redeemed for his war crimes, but it definitely would take more than what was seen in the show for him to be forgiven for them.

Anyways, let me know what you think. This took an ungodly amount of time to write.

[lesserfandomappreciation]

Bumi II with an s/o that is Zuko’s daughter?

This evolved into so much more than what I was aiming, but here you go. Enjoy!

Bumi II with fem!s/o that Zuko’s daughter (Legend of Korra)

They have been friends since childhood and it shows. Those visits to the Fire Nation were not always possible with the Avatar’s schedule, it did not stop the two from forming a bond at a young age. By “bond” I mean “rivalry” and by “forming” I mean “kick starting a strange competitive rivalry that baffles to this day.”

Bumi as an adult has some sense of common sense, he just chooses to put it to the side sometimes. Bumi as a child is a Sokka gone feral with a need to bug others. S/o being a proper princess with manners was going to become a rival to him at some point or another, it was just natural.

The distance between their homes made it possible for this rivalry to peak and fall with lulls of peace when visits were over. It’s when they both join the newly minted United Forces that things go from “meh” to “oh no.”

Both families knew this day was coming. Aang and Katara knew for sure that the way those two acted, the universe would play a joke on them and force them to spend time together. Zuko knew, but was really hoping that the forsaken day would never come. The amount of damage reports he gets about his daughter and Bumi’s antics...

Their rivalry only worsens with their cadet-hood. Bumi’s happy-go-lucky attitude is nails on a chalkboard for s/o. What’s worse, his cheery attitude means getting unfair attention from higher officers despite his terrible antics, while all her hard word and diligence is commended but hardly noticed. It’s infuriating! To Bumi, her being so diligent and so hardcore about their positions only makes him want to rile her up more to see the cute angry looks on her face. It’s always hilarious to see ‘Miss Princess’ get all frustrated.

Cadet-hood brings a strange moment of understanding though, at least in the final year of it. They unfortunately have to spend more time together much to the amusement of their comrades and commanders. Pranks have gone down somewhat, but the same back and forth hasn’t been lost. It does give them something neither excepted to have though. Understanding.

It strikes Bumi as odd that his rival/friend from childhood is always working hard. In fact, the moments where she is angry with him are the only moments he really sees her not working or training. Chatty as ever it doesn’t long for him to figure out from co-workers that he’s really one of the few friends she has on the ship. Women aren’t common in the new United Forces yet, and there’s a lot of sexism in what is proper in a military/what isn’t that affects her. Princess or not, she’s had to work hard for what she has because she’s had to no choice. 

It explains why she gets so frustrated with him. Bumi gets to make jokes, slack off, be silly and more and no one bats an eye. A female cadet doing that, a royal one at that, would just be proving all the lies and rumors that some of the others believe in. Who wouldn’t be upset with that? 

S/o isn’t without a sense of humor, or a sense of being. There’s a time and place for everything; she’s just of the personal belief that the middle of paperwork isn’t it. A lot of her days and nights are filled with work, and work, and work, and it’s not like she can really complain about it to anyone. Bumi’s jokes and cheeriness are frustrating, true, but time together as cadets has laid the foundation for something new. Respect. Pranks have gone down, he’s respecting her space more even as he’s wasting her time with some form of positive chatter but... it’s nice. Kind of. Not that she would ever admit it.

Plus, despite his cheery attitude he knows when to get serious. It’s strangely refreshing to see to the happy-go-lucky dork be intense and take things seriously from time to time. And she’s not sure why that is yet.

Bumi is strangely the first one to address it. There’s a shift in his behavior around her - a subtle one but one that s/o can recognize. He’s still a jokester but he’s also the one checking in to see how she’s doing, the one who when he sees her working actually sits down to help and then drags her to get a bite from the cafeteria. It’s a strange unexpected shift and s/o is still waiting for the other foot to drop, to figure out what prank he’s up to, but honestly it’s so nice to have someone actually care she doesn’t think about it too much.

Though it is hilarious to see to him pout over the accusation of being up to something. She stifles a laugh at the face he makes.

This weird friendship actually becomes very strong with time. Cadethood become Lieutenant-Hood, Major-Hood, and just keeps going. They make a strange pair, the cheery man and the intense woman, but they’re an interesting duo. It’s amazing to see them work together on missions; having known each other their entire lives they’re almost in perfect sync on rescues and combat missions. And maybe, just maybe, there might be a tiny spark of admiration of each other.

Bumi’s had it for a while. There’s something about a woman who can kick butt and keeps people alive because it’s the right thing to do that hits him right in the heart. He’s just been so sure that she doesn’t see him that way that he’s tried to settle for friendship.

S/o did not ask for this. Definitely did not want to be awake in the middle of the night thing “oh no” as the realization hits her straight on the head.

S/o makes the first move. Bumi has been too much of a jokester for too long for any potential moves he has to actually work (jokingly flirting too long does tend to do that) so it would have to be her taking initiative to actually get the ball rolling. Still, it’s one of his favorite stories to tell, the time “Miss Princess asked me on a completely professional outing that could or couldn’t be a date, don’t make it weird you airhead.”

He acts like a hotshot about it now, but s/o will gladly point out that she’s not the one who had to be pulled back on board after going overboard.

Military power couple. Bumi may be a jokester but he wound up Admiral for a reason, with S/o holding a powerful rank as well. The two work incredibly well together, and their relationship outside of work has only made them that more dangerous in the field.

No where near as dangerous as the time the Fire Lord and the heir apparent to the Fire Lord were told by the second princess that she was dating Bumi, but that’s a story for another time.

Bumi will drop the worst lines on her, with goofiness that would make Bolin cringe, but he’s the one whose face flushes when she takes the lead with word and with action. A single surprise kiss to the cheek will have his head in the clouds for the rest of the evening.

He may be a verbal guy but action and physical contact are his love languages. The first time she placed her head on his shoulder, s/o could feel him go stock still and warm up under the contact. It’s one of the few times she seen him go completely quiet.

Bumi is cheesy, I’m sorry. Over the top gestures like kissing her hand, badly arranged flowers, shouting from the rooftop that his partner is the coolest are going to happen. He has 0 shame as she reminds him he can’t just climb a tower to shout such nonsense, he’s not going to get it.

He is there for her though through thick and thin. Yea he’s got a sense of humor but if he senses that his s/o is genuinely having a bad day he will gladly hold her for as long as she needs and press soft kisses to her forehead. He’s learned there’s a time and place for a joke.

I have more headcanons but this post is long enough as is. To summarize: powercouple mixed with the sunshine/serious trope, rivalry to playful banter, genuine respect and kickassery tropes.

[j-morgan-fly]

Shaena Targaryen!lives/Ned Stark 

The visual in a companion to my rare pair story, inspired by Wallofprompts short wips of the above paring from their “Another Chance to Win The Fight Universe” and also inspired by the “Celiaverse” works of Fromtheboundlesssea.

Please enjoy this glimpse into the first chapter, soon to be posted to my AO3.

Shaena Targaryen was the third child and only daughter of King Aerys and Queen Rhaella’s four living children. She was a genial, practical and well humored young woman that was charm at court and a lovely vision to whom the admirers of her house found great joy to look upon. Her greatest amusement at court was to help her mother arrange happy marriages. She was also her mothers dearest companion and joy. She lived a rich, comfortable life but that was not to say there were not darkness to be found, bruises to have been had and hard lessons learned.

As the only daughter of the royal family, Princess Shaena had been given the expectation by her own father that she would one day marry her elder brother, Rhaegar, or her younger brother, Daeron. They were Targaryen’s after all and the King believed in the importance of certain Targaryen traditions and ideals.

It was mildly surprising then when at nine years old Shaena was in attendance as it was announced at the tourney celebrating the birth of her youngest brother Viserys, that Rhaegar would be betrothed to the host of the tourneys daughter, Cersei Lannister. The little lioness was only a year older than Shaena, so it was not a matter of impatience to make a match for Rhaegar else her father would have waited until the Shaena was of age to marry Rhaegar. This was a matter of nescesity and something Shaena would believe later was under great influence by the small council. The marriage would be a good way to bridge the poor relationship between the king and his hand and also continue to guarantee direct deposits of Lannister gold into the Crowns coffers after the wedding as well.

After the announcement, Shaena was absolutely certain she would be marrying her younger brother. Daeron was only two years younger than her and they always got along well. But marrying him, well, it was not exactly a thought that sparked joy or excitement in her. It was more of a fact she was simply resigned to. Like her mother, Shaena was mindful of her duty, and her duty was to produce pure Targaryen children according to her father. So when she was sat down at fifteen by both her mother and father told she was to be wed to Eddard Stark it was the greatest shock in her young life, or so she thought until she learned the reason for the betrothal.

Rhaegar had gotten Lyanna Stark with child. Shaena had heard the same rumors about Rhaegar and Lyanna. How her brother had abducted the lady after the Tourney at Harrenhall. Shaena had not been present, helping running the castle and assisting in the preparations for her brothers wedding to Cersei Lannister.

After the Tourney the Starks were meant to travel to Riverrun for Brandon Starks wedding to Catelyn Tully. Brandon and his father had rode ahead, Lyanna would follow at a slower pace in a litter. Ten leagues from Harrenhall she was abducted reportedly by Rhaegar and six confidants of his. Lord Rickard and his son departed the Riverlands, postponing the young lords wedding, with the goal of retrieving the stolen girl from the crown prince. The father and son split ways, one coming to Kings Landing and the other going to Dragonstone to try and widen the search quicker and depand the return of their kin.

Shaena remembered the fury of the day the elder Stark arrived, the sounds of yelling, the commotion of it all.  Lord Stark was ushered into a private chamber rather than stand before court when Lord Varys, the master of whispers, advised the king why the man had come. Shaena had not been privy to the conversations inside the chambers as her father did not let her take part in the small council meetings. Only her brothers. Some time later Brandon Stark came to the capital as well after finding Dragonstone not to be hiding Lyanna and Rhaegar. 

She very little crossed paths with the Starks during their stay. Her mother wanted her to help with the care of her little brothers and focus on her lessons, making sure she had little free time to snoop on what was happening.

When she did run into them their words were cold and curt, still courteous but bordering on rude as if she was also to blame for what Rhaegar had done. She tried to not take it personal and reminded herself that Northerners were more brusqe in their manners.

Brandon Stark was a handsome man and she thought Catelyn Stark lucky as any young girl might, if he did not glare at her so fiercely all the time when ever their eyes met. The poor young woman must have been very upset to have her wedding postponed. She and her groom were not strangers at all, and had been meeting over the years since the bethrothel was made when Lady Catelyn was a girl of twelve. Her brother and his fanciful ways was disturbing so many peoples lives. She wished she could only understand him better. Rhaegar was always an enigma to her. He was always a sensible young man so this hadn’t made sense. Had he simply gone mad? She would learn the answer that year.

The Starks spent weeks in Kings Landing working with her father and his council on trying to discover the truth and locate the missing man and girl, sending Varys little birds into flight all over the Kingdoms to try and get word on their location. Her father sent parties to all of Rhaegars known favorite places. Summerhall, Oldtown, villages he frequented but they remained to be found.

They tried to keep things quiet but eventually the news was leaked out. Robert Baratheon was barely being contained at the Vale from coming down and raining hell and fury on them with a rebellion that would no doubt rise once he was able to leave. Already Roberts brother Stannis was picking up arms to come to his brothers aide.

Her father wanted the young mans head, the Starks could be reasoned with it was the Baratheon boy that would be the real issue. If he was dead then they might be able to prevent a war. His younger brother Stanniss was a sensible, strict fellow, he would make a much better Lord of Storms End and would not be so quick to go to war with the crown. He would understand that Rhaegar was a young man and his own older brother had already a number of bastards. Rhaegar was a prince, he could have any woman he desired if he so wished. A highborn losing her maidenhead before a marriage was a scandal, not a crime. 

Of course King Aerys didn’t see things like other men. He thought his family, like many before him, above the law. Dragons did not answer to gods or men.

During the earlier meetings the North had threatened breaking from the Seven Kingdoms again in response to this scandal if not adequately compensated for the insult and possible crimes being committed against Lyanna, completely blaming Rhaeger and accusing him of kidnapping the girl.

Tywin Lannister was eerily quiet during all of this. After all Rhaegar had insulted him and his daughter Cersei to whom her brother was betrothed to by running off with another woman when the wedding was so close. 

Shaena tried to comfort her good-sister to be, but the girl was prickly and haughty. She hid her hurt feelings behind snappish retorts and faux confidence that she would be queen, that this meant nothing and Rhaegar would have his fun and return to wed her as promised. Shaena had tried to be understanding and patient, be a good sister. She had the practice but Cersei made things purposefully difficult rather than just accepting her companionship and comfort. 

Others might have just assumed she was putting on a brave face for herself and others, but Shaena knew this was just pure arrogance. Cersei was called the light of the West, songs were sung that she was the most beautiful woman in Westeros and the richest with her houses wealth behind her.

If Cersei was more personable, more kindly, perhaps Shaena would feel worse for her. But the girl was a viper and not worth more time than was expected spent with.

Shaena had been walking with her brothers around the keep, heading to the gardens when she heard her father loudly threatening to burn Rickard and Brandon in the middle of court for their treasonous words. He might have if they hadn’t received a lead that same day, word from a scout near Dorne.

Rhaegar had taken Lyanna past the Dornish Marches. Just beyond Summerhall to a small place called the Tower of Joy past Nightsong.

Lord Rickard and Bradon wasted not a minute and departed the capital without the kings consent. They rode like the wind to Dorne. When they arrived they learned something even more shocking. Apparently it was no kidnapping her mother explained to her. Rhaegar and Lyanna fell in love at Harrenhall. Lyanna went willingly with Rhaegar and the two have been carrying out a premarital affair despite their individual betrothals to others. Rickard and Brandon arrived in time to stop the couple from marrying, there was even a Septon there. Bran Stark had challenged Rhaegar to a duel for dishonoring his sister. Rhaegar won. Brandon Stark was dead.

Her mother explained that Lady Lyanna, only fourteen, was with child and she would give birth quietly in a remote location per the Starks wishes.

There would be no union between Rhaegar and Lyanna, that Aerys was clear on that. He would not throw away the chance that Tywin would still keep the engagement between his daughter and Rhaegar.

Lyanna’s child once born would then be given over to Rhaegar, to acknowledged as his bastard since Lyanna had been a maid prior. Where the bastard would go after had yet to be decided.

There was still much at stake and something else had to be done to help keep what little peace was to be found. Acting fast it was her mothers idea to offer Shaena’s hand to the middle son, Ned Stark, as restitution for what Rhaegar had done to Lyanna. She did so immediately before it was suggested that Ned be wed to Catleyn Tully now that Brandon Stark was dead and she was without a betrothed anymore. They had to strike to seal an alliance with the Starks against he Baratheon’s.

It was uncertain if Robert would still have Lady Lyanna after this. Shaena could have been offered to Lord Baratheon to replace his betrothed Lyanna as Princess Rhaelle had once been offered to Orys Baratheon when Duncan married Jenny of Oldstones. The consequences of that love nearly destroyed the kingdoms, and now this may prove to have just as horrendous of consequences. No doubt the fields would run red with blood, a rebellion was expected, war. For house Targaryen it was a choice between fighting the North and the Stormland’s or making peace with one to lessen their enemies. It was decided they stood a better chance with making peace with the North and keeping them out of battles. Robert and Ned Stark were friends, but Rickard Stark still lived and had no other attachments and commitments to House Baratheon other than the relationship his son had with the young Lord of Storms End.

The Targaryen’s had never had a close relationship with the North and this marriage would rectify that as well take away an ally from the Baratheon’s. It was a keen opportunity that should not be passed up. Shaena understood the sense behind it.

“And Rhaegar?” Shaena found her voice to ask, though there was a tremble to it she was embarrassed to admit. Her throat had gone dry as she listened to her parents.

Her mother noticed and motioned for a servant to bring her some water. Shaena smiled gratefully at her.

“Your fool brother has been escorted to Dragonstone where he will remain under heavy guard until I say so.” her father sneered, practically spitting Rhaegar’s name as if it was curse in his mouth.

“If we are lucky, Lord Tywin, will overlook this as a young man sowing his wild oats before marriage and not break the betrothal to his daughter.” her mother sighed, watching as her daughter tosses a lemon slice into her goblet of water, her hands shaking.”No need for him to know Rhaegar had planned to marry the girl. That is just between us, do you understand, Shaena?”

Shaena nodded and noticed how her mother was wringing her hands. They were so ashen and dry. Shaena reached out, putting her own hand over them to comfort and support her. She could not imagine the disappointment and stress this was putting her through.

“Gods have mercy on us, we will be ruined if the marriage does not play out. We will need the Lannisters to crush Robert Baratheon in the rising rebellion,” King Aerys stood from his chair, robes billowing.

The back of his long hair looked tangled. Ever since Duskendale he let no man or woman give him a sheer. He was terrified of the blades. Her father could barely sit his own throne, always nervous of being nicked by the still sharp tipped blades it was forged from.

“We should never have went to that Tourney,” Aerys was speaking of the Tourney at Harrenhall, where Rhaegar had crowned Lyanna Stark as the Queen of Love and Beauty.

They hadn’t thought much of it when it happened. Lady Cersei was not in attendance for the Tourney, busy with wedding plans. Besides, many a man had crowned pretty girls and nothing came of it. They had thought this would be no different. They could never have imagined that Rhaegar would do something like this. He barely knew the girl. To their knowledge this was the first time the two had ever met, and they had not even spoken to each other. Now they were in love? It was odd but her brother always had been a somber romantic. Perhaps he really did fall in love at first sight. But still he should know to have restraint and that nothing could come from his affections, recuperated or not. He had duties, responsibilities, a commitment to anther to uphold.

“I understand, your grace, mother,” she swallowed, a strange pit sitting heavy in her stomach at the thought fo the cold north of the glares her soon to be husbands father and brother had once given her. She would not be well received in the North she suspected.

“I wish we had more time but because of the sensitive nature of our situation it is in everyone interest you leave as soon as possible.” her mother than explained that she would be leaving on the morrow for Winterfell and the servants were packing her things as they spoke.

[araluen-arrows]

ode to caitlyn o’carrick

caitlyn was a sickly child. we all know that, right? the royal physicians always advised against the princess going outside for long periods of time. she was anemic. had asthma. her immune system was weak in general.

except what we don’t know is how strong her spirit was. cait was four years and change younger than ferris, and four years and change plus eight minutes younger than halt. so in many ways she was the baby of her family, but she never acted it. 

cait was stern and dark-haired and serious, like her oldest brother, but she had a flashing sense of humor and a witty smile, like ferris. except her smile didn’t hide secrets and political maneuvering—well, not until later, anyway.

she knew her brothers, both of them, from the outside all the way in. she knew ferris’ ambitions, halt’s fears, and a lot more besides. which is why, when ferris returns to dun kilty, dripping wet and holding only one oar, she does not believe him that halt drowned on accident. halt, who swam like a fish and loved the lakes and rivers of hibernia with his whole heart, could not possibly have died like that.

unless, obviously, someone had killed him. 

“cait?” ferris asks, and she realizes that she doesn’t know him any more. not really. “our brother is dead. please, you have to help me. I am King now.” 

caitlyn wants to cry and throw things at him. she wants to scream accusations for the guards and nobles to hear. she does none of those things. instead, she manages a nod and a quiet of course, brother. 

she attends the funeral, her face veiled, dark hair whipping in the wind, as she is expected to. the resultant cough hurts her throat for a week, but not as much as halt’s death and ferris’s betrayal hurt her heart. 

she sequesters herself in her room for that week, and no one bothers her. the castle and nation are in mourning, and they assume their princess wants space. but on the eighth day, ferris’s coronation, she makes an appearance. 

“might I be allowed to play at your coronation, my king?” she asks. “you know I have always had an affinity for the harp.” ferris pulls a face. his crown already sits atop his head like he was born for it. 

“that would not be proper,” he says sternly.

“come, now.” caitlyn lays a hand on his arm. she is the only one that is able to still do so. “you know well that I have not the stamina for dancing and speech-making. it would be my honor to play the harp while you dance tonight.”

ferris eventually agrees. something about caitlyn has always been impossible to deny. that night, she sits in the corner and plucks serenely at her gilded harp. it was a gift from the late king and queen when she turned six and clamored to join her brothers’ violin lessons. she took to music quicker and more readily than they ever had, and now, it is a skill that serves her well. 

as she plays, she keeps an eye on the dancers that twirl through the hall, and she opens her ears to the conversation as well. 

“...happened so soon after the death of the king...”

“a tragedy, to have lost the crown prince, king, and queen within a single year...”

“coronation seems to have been awfully soon, considering...”

at the next royal function, she asks to play again.

and again.

even as her health deteriorates, caitlyn remains a cornerstone at balls and galas, always sitting in the corner, fingers gliding over harp strings, ears and eyes peeled.

even as she is increasingly confined to her quarters by the order of the king, she gathers journal upon journal in the floorboards of her rooms, ledgers full of courtly gossip, files on every minor noble in the kingdom. 

especially those who believe ferris killed his brother. those who believe the monarchy should pass to a more able king.

when sean is born, he is half-royal, half bastard, the son of a guard that was always kind to caitlyn. she knows it does not matter, because he will be stronger than every noble that scorns him, and twice as smart.

“you will be the o’carrick that saves clonmel,” caitlyn whispers to him, her voice weak but determined. “you will be the good thing that comes out of this family.”

the irony to this statement, is, of course, all the good that caitlyn could have done if her brother had not kept her locked away like a damsel in distress.

she passes away, wilting in solitude, five months before she turns thirty. clinging to hope for her son and her kingdom even as she is no longer able to cling to life itself. 

those journals are left to sean as a birthright. a way to reclaim what should have been halt’s, but will now have to be his. they are his nursery tales, his prayer scripts, and his bedtime stories.

when he is older, he forms alliances with the right people, his mother’s voice whispering in his ear all the while. he brushes his fingers over her written words, feeling the press of a distant pen, and devours her political secrets like a starving man given bread.

he maneuvers and maneuvers, gaining favors from the common people. the army. the servants. the titled nobility. caitlyn left him books full of advice on them all. 

before he turns twenty, his uncle is dead, cut down by an assassin’s crossbow bolt. sean assumes the throne and brings the good his mother so desperately hoped for. clonmel is at peace, stronger and wealthier than ever before. 

and none of it would have been possible without caitlyn o’carrick, the woman who hoped and believed so fiercely in change that she wrought it herself. 

[ohmightydevviepuu]

our little life (rounded with a sleep) / chapter 3

our little life (rounded with a sleep) chapter three

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had blonde hair, green eyes, no family, and she was good at finding people; in fact, she proclaimed this on her office door. “Swan and Humbert,” it said. “Private investigations, missing persons, and bail bonds.”

Only lately, she's been thinking that maybe it should say "Emma Swan: Loner, Loser, Complicated wreck."

Her partner's been killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him. But when she tracks a possible perp to a bar on the outskirts of town, Emma will find out exactly how deep the rabbit hole goes.

--

always, always, always because of @thisonesatellite​​ and @profdanglaisstuff​ thank you AGAIN to the amazing team at @captainswanbigbang​

cw: canonical character death rating: T/M (implied violence, language) AO3 chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

chapter summary:   Emma’s tracked down her suspect but then he looks into her eyes like he can see her, like he recognizes her--

And it’s a big fucking problem. She doesn’t trust him.  They are not a team.  No matter what he says or how blue his eyes are when he reads her like an open book.

--

“I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting,” James Hook said. “A woman such as yourself deserves my full and prompt attention.”

His voice was familiar; exactly as she had heard it in her dream down to the cadence of his accent.

“Does that line ever work?” Emma asked.

His eyes twinkled with appreciation. “I,” he said seriously, “will let you know, yeah?”

He was wearing eyeliner, kohl smudged around his eyes. Blue button-up shirt--partially undone, matched his eyes, would look even better on the floor--buttoned waistcoat, jeans that showed off his--

Fuck.

Emma needed a drink before she ended up like one of the co-eds.

“MacCutcheon,” she said simply.

“How do you like it?”

“In a glass,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Tough lass,” he said with a laugh, pouring her a shot.

“Yeah, well,” she said, picking up the shot glass and downing it in one. The condensation left a ring on the cocktail napkin. “It’s been a long day, and I’m thirsty.” She looked around, taking in more of the place--anything to look at instead of staring at Hook and his partially-unbuttoned shirt. “What’s with all of the swords?” Emma asked, gesturing at a wall covered in weapons.

The Rabbit Hole fell on the upside of ‘dive’, but only just barely. Maybe it was the Edison bulbs. The soft yellow glow gave everything a patina of ‘vintage’ instead of ‘grimey’. 

“And what are those, boat hooks?”

“Aye,” he said.

“What are you, some kind of sailor?”

“In another life,” he said, the fake grin stretching across his face, “I served in the Royal Navy.”

“You’ve practically got an armory in here,” she said.

“That’s the idea,” he agreed.

“You don’t seem like the type of guy to collect old-fashioned weapons.”

“Aye,” he said again, the eyes twinkling--again. “I collect blondes from bottles, too.”

Emma was a natural blonde--probably another legacy from one of her parents. She returned his gaze and said only, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

There it was: the real smile. “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps I would. James Hook.” He held out his right hand to her, and Emma shook it, which was when she noticed that he only had the one.

“I know who you are,” she said.

“Ah,” he said. “So you’ve heard of me? Well, it’s always nice to leave an impression.”

“Oh,” Emma said. “You have. You’re handsome, and charming--”

“Do go on,” Hook said, shifting his weight against the back counter.

“The kind of guy who--now, stop me if I’ve got this wrong--steals a man’s wife and leaves a boy motherless, then keeps up the grudge by breaking into his home and stealing from him again.” Emma watched him during her recitation. This was her favorite part: skips always broke down when the hot piece of ass they’d been planning on nailing turned the tables and cuffed them.

Not in the fun way, either.

But Hook just looked at her, stepping forward again and bracing his elbow against the bar, his chin in his hand. His fingers curled against his upper lip, his eyes were wide and innocent, and the fake grin had returned; the change was so smoothly done it was--almost--imperceptible.

“Sounds like a lovely tale,” he said. “But I’m going to wager the truth is rather more gruesome.”

Emma was calm. She was focused. And he was not lying.

“Besides,” Hook said evenly, “I’m going to need you to be a mite more specific in your accusations; you see, I’ve had many a man’s wife.”

“And I need you,” Emma said, matching his tone, “to return what you’ve stolen.”

His smile--the fake smile--faltered. Just for a second. “Tell me something, love,” Hook said, leaning into her personal space, his eyes never leaving hers, “If a woman comes to you and begs you to take her away, is that theft?” He ran his tongue over his lower lip and winked at her.

“But--why would she leave him?” Emma asked before she could stop herself. The son, they had a son--

What were they even talking about?

“Because he was a coward,” Hook said easily. “Because she loved me.”

Emma pulled herself away from his gaze. Whatever was going on here--he wasn’t lying.

“So, lass,” he said, “you know who I am, but you won’t even tell me your name?”

“What fun would that be?” Emma said.

“If you’re helping Rump--Gold,” Hook said, with particular emphasis on the name, “I’m afraid you’re fighting for a lost cause.”

“I’m not fighting for anything,” Emma said, “except for my fee. Tell me what you know about Graham Humbert’s death.” She grabbed his wrist. “And I’m gonna let you in on a little secret--I’m pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me.”

“He came in here the other evening, on the hunt,” Hook said, biting down hard on the ‘t’. “He often did. It’s rather a target-rich environment, as you can see.” He gestured at the crowded room and leered. “That’s the last time I saw him.”

Emma smiled, the kind that showed no teeth, that was small and controlled, and tightened her grip on his wrist. With her other hand, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, unlocked it and scrolled to David Nolan’s entry. “He came here looking for you the night he died,” she said. “A fact I think the sheriff--” Emma held up the phone to show him “--will find fascinating, don’t you?”

He started to pull away, but Emma twisted his wrist just enough to put pressure on it--enough that pulling away would make a scene and potentially force someone to call the sheriff anyway. The singer finished a song to a scattering of applause, and Emma kept her grip and her gaze on Hook.

“Well done, lass,” he said. Emma let go of him and his hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. He had rings on two of his fingers and his thumb, and a freaking earring, a black stud. “You’ll be Emma Swan, then.”

“There goes my air of mystery,” she deadpanned.

“On the contrary, love,” Hook said, licking his lips again. “You’ve bested me. I can count on one hand the number of times someone has done that.”

“Is that a joke?” Emma said drily. “Because you’re a terrible liar.”

“Ask me what you’ve really come here to ask, Swan,” he said, and something in his face had shifted, like he had dropped the act of whatever part he was trying to play. His eyes were serious and the tone of his voice had lowered.

“Did you kill him?”

“I did not,” Hook said.

Emma believed him. Shit.

--

“Now then,” Hook said. “Emma Swan. Bail bonds, private investigations. Twenty-eight years old?”

They weren’t in the bar anymore.

According to the paperwork Graham had pulled, Hook had owned The Rabbit Hole for more than twenty years--clearly a typo as the man appeared exactly as Gold had described him: mid-thirties, no more, no less. It was difficult to picture him running off with a woman Gold’s age.

He’s older than he looks, Gold smirked, and had looked at Emma in a way that made her want to shower. And rather partial, I’m afraid, to brunettes.

Emma had confirmation of this, at least, when Hook had called out to a beautiful brunette in a micromini, tights and an artfully ripped t-shirt. Lacey, my darling, cover for me here, will you?

She’d laughed and given him--and Emma--a wink, and it was obvious what she thought Hook and Emma were doing, and why they needed cover. I’ve got this, Jamie, she’d said.

And he’d taken Emma to a small but immaculate office, dimly lit, rimmed with books, and offered her a chair with a bow before taking a seat behind the desk. She’s new, Hook had said of Lacey, but she does the job like she’s been here for decades. Something about that had amused him; Hook seemed consistently to be amusing himself with jokes only he understood. Any man who kept a skull-and-crossbones on the wall was definitely a man with an unusual sense of humor--in fact, this room had a distinct nautical theme, with a red flag draped above the black one and an honest-to-goodness ship in a bottle on his desk, and it was all a far cry from the badly-curated murder-tinged whimsy that made up the decor of the main bar.

“That’s oddly specific,” Emma countered. “Do I, like, get a prize if you’re right?”

“An educated guess,” Hook answered, and said nothing else as his eyes settled over her. Emma felt like she was being evaluated; not the first time that had happened, and she had no idea what he thought he was looking for.

“So, then,” he said. “Your Graham Humbert came looking for me.”

“He wasn’t my anything,” Emma said quickly. Maybe too quickly.

“Aye,” Hook said. “Of that I’m well aware.” He twisted his thumb against the metal of one of his rings and broke eye contact, looking down and away from her. “We weren’t friends, you know. Barely even acquainted. But you might say that we had certain connections in common.” Hook looked at her quickly and looked away again. “I hadn’t seen him in as long as I can remember.”

There was something strange underlying the words. Not a lie, but not the truth. And something about the phrase tickled Emma’s memory, like she had heard it somewhere before.

“He was involved with Regina Mills,” Emma said, realizing it at the same moment she said it.

“Indeed he was.” Hook made a sound, almost like a bark, and it took Emma a moment to realize it was a laugh. There was no amusement in it. “You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but she rather held his heart in her hands.”

Emma winced.

“Apologies, love,” Hook said quickly, and with apparent sincerity. “That was in rather poor taste, I admit.”

“You were too, weren’t you?” Emma asked instead of acknowledging his half-assed apology. “Involved with her?”

Another harsh laugh escaped him. “Indeed I was,” he said, “though not in the way you’d think. I did some work for the family. A long time ago.”

Emma smirked. “A man who used to be a sailor and now owns a bar?”

“‘Used to be’ is right, Swan,” he said, “but one might consider the bar payment.” He did that thing again, where he over-emphasized the harsh consonants. “For services rendered.”

“You realize you are the only one in this entire neighborhood who owns their property outright instead of paying rent to Robert Gold?”

“Am I?” He examined his fingernails. “That’s fortuitous.” It was obscene, the way Hook made words sound, but Emma knew a distraction when she saw one. This man used words as deflections, armor not unlike her collection of leather jackets.

“She came to see me,” Emma said.

“Did she?” That got Hook’s attention. “And what did you think of Her Majesty the Queen?”

“Her what now?”

“Regina, love. Latin.”

“You speak Latin?” Emma’s eyebrows definitely went up.

“And Greek,” he pointed out, smirking.

“They teach you that in the Royal Navy?”

“Something like that,” he agreed.

Emma’s head was beginning to hurt. This was shaping up to be the world’s worst first draft of “Who’s on first”--she wasn’t getting anywhere, and she needed another drink.

“What did she want?” Hook asked, and for the first time, there was genuine curiosity in his tone. He twisted behind him, pulling out a bottle, then repeated the process and came up with two glasses pinched between his thumb and forefinger, placing one in front of her. He pulled the cork with his teeth, poured himself a shot, and then gestured at her with the bottle.

Emma gave him a look.

“You’re something of an open book, Swan,” Hook said, the picture of innocent hospitality, “or did you not want another drink?”

“Regina wanted to know,” Emma said, ignoring his outstretched hand, “what I was doing about Graham’s death.”

“Don’t make a man drink alone, love.”

“I don’t want a drink,” she lied. “Or a man.”

Hook pouted. “Now who’s not telling the truth?”

Emma took the bottle from his hand and poured herself three fingers’ worth.

“I do find that spirits can be an excellent solution to so many of life’s problems,” Hook said with false cheerfulness, “so I am glad to see that you are making progress.”

Emma left the glass on the desk and leveled a glare at him.

“Are you?” he said, raising his eyebrows, “making progress?”

There was a knock on the door at the same time as it opened, and a young man stepped in. Nearly as tall as Hook, he had long, dark blonde hair that he’d slicked back, leaving some fringe to fall messily at his temples.

“Alright, Liam?” Hook said.

The young man--Liam--coughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, only Lacey said you were back here--”

“And you wanted to interrupt?” Hook asked, a mix of exasperation, fondness and something sharper in his voice.

Liam shrugged.

“Swan,” Hook said, “allow me to present my lit--younger brother, Liam, who was just leaving.”

Emma nodded at him, with his slightly-less-blue eyes and the curious way they watched her.

There was a look in Hook’s eyes as his brother walked out that Emma was not prepared to acknowledge. She pushed her untouched tumbler of rum back toward him and snapped, “Enough. Why did Graham come here to see you?” Emma demanded.

Hook shrugged.

“He tracked you down through property records,” Emma said. “Because the Mills Organization paid you in real estate for work you did for them a long time ago?”

“So it would seem,” he said.

“You know it says on the deed that you’ve been the owner here for as long as I’ve been alive?”

“Does it?” he smirked. “And yet I’ve retained my youthful glow.”

There it was again--not a lie, but not the truth.

He’s older than he looks.

Emma sat, toying with the tumbler she had pulled back toward her seat, running her forefinger around the ring of the glass and saying nothing.

“What can I say, Swan,” he said. “‘I contain multitudes.’ Not unlike your Graham Humbert.” He looked at her as though he was expecting a reaction; Emma stared at him.

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Ah,” he said, as though to himself. “Not a believer, then--well, surely that will stop you getting killed.”

Hook considered her for a moment before tossing back his shot, then said: “Walt Whitman, lass. American poet.”

“Didn’t study poetry at any of the high schools I got kicked out of,” Emma said. “What does my listening to you recite poetry and mutter to yourself have to do with Graham?”

Hook shook his head. “Absolutely nothing, love,” he said. “Merely pointing out that you might be surprised by what they teach you in the Royal Navy.”

“You don’t know anything about what I believe,” Emma said sharply.

His blue eyes blazed. “I know that everything you think you believe is wrong,” he said.

“A man is dead, Hook,” Emma said. “I need you to stop fucking around and give me back whatever it is you’ve taken.”

“She’s dead, Swan,” he said sadly, the fire gone just as quickly as it had come, “and whatever that bloody crocodile has you looking for, I don’t have it.”

He had that look again.

Crocodile.

“Just like Milah, when the crocodile took her from me.”

“His wife?” Emma said. “Look, I’m sorry she died, but Graham--Graham was murdered.”

“Died,” Hook snorted. “Like it was some kind of accident--”

“That’s not what I said,” Emma protested, feeling suddenly on the defensive.

“--lass, it was no more of an accident than Humbert laid out in the alley.” Hook poured himself another shot and held it. “And you, Swan, helping him? I fear we’re working at cross purposes.”

“I’m just here to retrieve something on behalf of my client,” Emma said, exasperated and confused, “and to get paid Same as Graham, only he ended up dead and I would prefer to avoid that.”

“It’s a shame, really, Emma,” he said, apparently not listening. “I think we could make quite the team.”

“And what,” Emma wanted to know, “would our objective be?”

Hook paused and looked at her before he drank the second shot, and Emma still had no idea what he was looking for. He took a breath and said: “To avenge your partner,” he said, as if it would be that simple. “To exact revenge on the man who took my hand, Rumplestiltskin.”

--

“Swan!” Hook called, rushing after her. “Swan, wait up!”

Emma was ten or fifteen feet out the door of The Rabbit Hole when she doubled back quickly and pushed herself against him. “Whoa!” she cried. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.”

Hook smiled at her and pulled them closer together. “It’s about bloody time.”

Emma hit him. “I seem to have a shadow,” she said, gesturing at the figure running into the darkness--the one that had lunged itself at her and forced her up against Hook.

“I suppose,” Hook said, pretending to consider it, “that’s a plausible excuse for grabbing me, but next time don’t stand on ceremony.”

Was the man insane? “Do you have any idea what you sound like right now? Who the fuck is Rumplestiltskin?”

Hook’s face fell. “I sound like a crazy person,” he said. “Apologies, love, I realize Humbert didn’t--” He paused, took a breath. “Would you settle for ‘dashing rapscallion’?”

“Excuse me?” Emma stuttered.

“As opposed to ‘crazy person’, Swan,” Hook pushed, and then leaned in closer at her continued silence, angling his head so their eyes were level. “Scoundrel, perhaps?”

He was close enough to--

He was very close.

“I think, Swan,” he said, very softly, his eyes boring into hers, “that you are not the only one with a shadow. Don’t turn,” he warned, “just look at me.”

The full focus of this man’s attention was nearly unbearable. Emma desperately needed to break eye contact and maintain her wits, which was how she noticed the red streak on his shoulder.

Where she’d grabbed him.

Unfortunately, that drew his eyes to the spot as well, and he knew immediately what it was.

“Swan,” he said, and he sounded disappointed. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing,” Emma insisted. “Just, the jerk who came after me must have had a knife or something.”

“Give me your hand,” Hook said.

“What?” Emma said, trying to pull away.

He wouldn’t let her. “It’s cut,” he said, getting impatient. “Let me help you.”

“No,” Emma said, taking a definitive step back. Hook countered by stepping forward, back into her personal space. “It’s fine.”

“Swan,” he sighed. “It’s not.”

And he ran his hand down her arm, curling his fingers around her wrist and lifting it for closer inspection, balancing her hand on his left wrist against his prosthetic.

“I’m not taking medical advice from a man who has named himself after a character in a fairy tale and who thinks my client can spin straw into gold,” Emma muttered. “Not even when he suddenly decides to be a gentleman.”

Hook’s face twisted, that already-familiar smirk pulling at his mouth as he took something out of his pocket. “I,” he said, and his tone was serious in spite of his expression, “am always a gentleman.” He looked at Emma through eyelashes that were thicker than hers were after several rounds of lash primer as he repeated his bit with the cork and moved to pour the contents over the small slash in her palm.

“What is that?” Emma asked suspiciously, then swore as the liquid hit her skin.

“It’s rum,” Hook said. “And a bloody waste of it.” He handed the flask to her before she could refuse and pulled out a handkerchief from his coat pocket, pressing it into her hand before Emma could try to pull away again and tying it off with his teeth.

Just--his teeth . Why?

His eyes never left hers, not even as he stepped away from her.

“He’s gone,” Hook whispered.

Emma sighed and took a swig of the rum in resignation. “Scoundrel it is, then,” she said, taking a definitive step backward and crossing her arms across her body in the universal signal for back off. Because she knew what he was doing, she had seen this movie before, and it hadn’t ended well.

They were not a team.

They could not be a team.

“Why were you following me?”

“I wanted to continue our conversation,” he said. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Emma shook her head slowly.

He grinned, shrugged. “And," he said, "I would like to see Regina Mills. I was hoping you would be so kind as to facilitate transportation.”

“You don’t drive?”

“I don’t drive a car,” Hook said. “It’s not by choice that I live here in the city, love, it’s by necessity.”

Emma felt her resistance wavering. “What makes you think I’d be willing to help you?”

“You seem,” Hook paused, as if searching for the correct word, “motivated.”

“What happened to cross purposes?”

“I look at this very simply,” Hook said. “I help you get what you want, and it gets me what I want. No more, no less. Besides, I find that I quite fancy you--when you’re not yelling at me, that is.”

“I don’t understand you,” Emma said.

“The mystique is part of my charm, I assure you,” Hook said, raising his eyebrows.

But she had already given in to whatever scheme this was, had given in the minute she pushed herself against him.

The minute he had held her arm and pushed into her space.

Emma gestured for him to go ahead, and they started walking to her car. Hook took in the careworn yellow Beetle with a grin on his face. “Quite a vessel you captain here, Swan,” he said, pulling the door open on the passenger side.

“It seemed like the best choice at the time,” Emma said softly, meaning it, momentarily hating herself for how wrong she had been--and how much this felt like the same beginning all over again. She ran a quick address search on her phone and came up with nothing; it was odd, given the extent of the Mills Organization’s influence.

“I know where she lives, lass,” Hook said. “I’ll navigate.”

Emma pulled out of her spot, the silence growing between them, interspersed at odd intervals with his muttered directions until he spoke. “You know, Swan, most people would find your silence off-putting, but I should warn you that I love a challenge.”

“No challenge,” Emma said. “I’m not looking for someone who’s gonna give his heart to the world, or some true love riding to my rescue.”

“But?” Hook prompted.

“I mean,” Emma said, dripping with sarcasm, “somewhere in the universe, there's gotta be a guy who'll keep me warm when I'm cold, feed me when I'm hungry and maybe, on occasion, take me dancing.”

“No,” he said. “That’s not it. You’re afraid--to talk, to reveal yourself.”

“Am I?” Emma said flatly. “What are we doing now? What happened to ‘a bit of an open book’?” She finished with a horrible imitation of his accent.

“You’re afraid to trust me.”

“Afraid to trust the guy who believes in fairy tales, Captain Hook?” Emma snorted. “However did you guess?”

“Bartender’s a sympathetic ear, love,” Hook said, “but I don’t need you to share. You have that look in your eyes.”

Emma’s entire body went still.

“The one,” Hook said, as if she didn’t already know--didn’t own a freaking mirror--hadn’t seen the look on his face that very night, “you get when you’ve been left alone.”

“Now I’m some kind of lost girl?” Emma forced herself to laugh. “Nice try, Hook, but my world ain’t Neverland.”

He made a noise, halfway between the unamused bark-laugh and a sigh, and said: “My point, Swan, is that an orphan’s an orphan.”

Emma said nothing, but Hook pressed on. “And True Love--well, that’s the rarest magic of all, or so they say. Have you ever even been in love?”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, took a deep breath, and lied. “No,” she said simply. “I have never been in love.” She pulled the car against the curb and turned off the ignition. “We’re here,” she said.

“Who’s the guy, Swan?” he said, and his voice was almost free of affect. She could--almost--believe he meant it.

“What guy?” Emma said, because fuck him and his open-book bullshit.

“The one,” Hook said as if it was obvious, “who left you with such a high opinion of me.”

Emma got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her.

--

@kmomof4​ @shireness-says​ @spartanguard​ @optomisticgirl​ @eirabach​ @winterbaby89​ @stahlop​ @teamhook @iamlaxdris71 @snowbellewells​ @carpedzem​ @scientificapricot​ @ultraluckycatnd @therealstartraveller776 @wyntereyez @nikkiemms @searchingwardrobes​ @courtorderedcake​

[ever-fics]

The story I’m about to tell you is the story of 7 Alleyways

The first alleyway is encountered by an eavesdropping young Royal with a penchant for trouble spying yet again on thier fathers plans out of... twisted curiousity especially when their father the current king mentioned change from normal and change in routine. The young royals father had his newly appointed guards lined up in pristine order not unlike holiday nutcrackers.

“You May face unexpected challenges to your work so as guards I expect you to be ready for anything and everything.” The king noted scanning the crowd with almost scholarly study.

“For example Y/N I know your there we have discussed this. If you were not my child another court would accuse you of espionage. Luckily I know enough about myself to recognize my own youthful mischief in my children.” The king sighed

“Sorry Daddy.” Y/N bashfully looked away.... noticing an odd hue of fiery red hair.... and clothes and ok this dude really really likes the color red.

“I expect you to keep them in line.I will most likely assign you by age. However, know this I expect no trouble from either you or your charges. Especially no eavesdropping.” The king sent a knowing look to Y/N

“Dismissed.” The King declared

Y/N who scratched the back of thier neck.

“Oh and Vexx since they are your charge escort them back.” The king added.

“Sure your highness.” Vexx smirked before following orders.

The young royal proceeded walking with Vexx back to thier chambers...

“So you must really enjoy the color red?” The royal smirked eyeing the entire ensemble.

“It’s a bit of a personal moniker due to the hair....” to say Vexx was taken aback by Royals of any kind speaking to or noticing anything about him .... well let’s just say that would be the understatement of the year.

“I figured .... it just must be hard to try to blend into a crowd. No offense I like it it’s just...yeah.” The royal chuckled at their own stupidity.

“Your one to talk child of the king. Media darling ... and appearently according to your father “mischief””

Vexx chuckled air quoting mischief. He wasn’t originally sure about doing this whole gaurd thing... but his assignment doesn’t seem half bad. They have a sense of humor at least.

“First thing you should know if you’re to be working with me my family and the media are almost polar oppposites. One pays almost too much attention too me the other doesn’t notice my existence save for when I’ve caused trouble or dishonored my great ancestral line. An actual lecture I get more than I’d like too.” Y/N looked down.

“Well then I should strive to be the middle then shouldn’t I?” Vexx chuckled.

Alleyway 2

Was the first time Vexx had to come to terms with the fact he had been given the “hard” assignment.

A fact that became painfully obvious when looking around the empty quarters.

Even more obvious when Y/N in whatever garb they had on emerged from the secret alley portrait passage covered in paint... grinning like mad.

“What the hell?” Vexx with crossed arms and an even more cross face demanded.

“I ... Um... It’s not as bad as it looks my brother is a bore so I repainted his private personal portrait in his quarters .... with a unibrow and some buck teeth take him down a peg it’s in his chambers you won’t get in trouble...” Y/N frowned.

“I don’t care about getting in trouble or you’re brothers stupid portrait. You always talk about feeling alone when when were stuck here playing board games... however the one person who doesn’t want you to be alone and you ditch them.” Vexx lectured.

“You get paid to say that just like anyone else here... like the chefs who dump food on my plate and don’t so much as smile at me. Or the servants who cower in my direction fearing my anger but I’m not angry ... your whole directive is making sure I’m not alone is it so yeah...” Y/N retorted

“Ok then fuck this... fuck following the rules. And you know what fuck you’re entitled attitude. Yeah sure maybe this started as a job but I’ve seen you act like everybody’s puppet and I hate it. I’ve seen you cry alone on rainy nights and I’ve seen you do a fake smile that you convince is genuine. I watch you do that tapping thing you do in meetings and how you bite your lip to keep your mouth shut to please whatever dumb conviention this is.... I know that the idea of you’re father sort of looking like those weird candy’s never fails to make you laugh...and you know what at that point it kind of stops just being to quote you my whole directive so yeah sometimes ... and ...get this people actually care about you.” Vexx frowned now out of breath.

Alleyway 3

It had been a week since the previous fight. Y/N didn’t talk to him but he didn’t talk to Y/N. To be honest it was just killing both of them. Both Too awkward for anything other than side glances in the others direction..... and if one looked at the other at the same time they quickly moved thier head and pretended it was nothing. Simple. The trouble with the whole thing is that both ended up feeling just horribly guilty.

“I’m sorry.” They both tried to say before laughing

“Look I’m sorry I’ve been entitled I know I’m a bit privileged and stuck up.... it’s just the only time people have spoken to me how you do is usually right before my father announces he want me to entertain them as a possible suitor. Which spoils the whole thing ,because it ends up being fake. Interested in me for a position as a noble or to raise thier family status or to maintain ours... It’s stupid and annoying I’m sorry I didn’t realize you aren’t like that....” Y/N smiled.

“It’s ok and I’m sorry if I hurt you’re feelings but I meant what I said ... fuck the rules. There’s a passage right There nobody needs to know we’re gone. Pick a place.” Vexx thought.

“What if we get caught. If I prank my brother and ruin his commission portraits that’s one thing as I don’t leave the palace and it’s his personal thing not a relic..... but this .... I’ve seen people get in huge trouble for less.... if something happens to you because of my selfishness I...” Y/N explained.

“Disguises hmm... you do enough of those ridiculous fashion and tabloid magazines to know what a hat can do to change what people see you as... and lucky for you I have a nice kushy job working for the kings family so I can sometimes buy my friends a hat so where too?”Vexx chuckled.

“I’ve always wanted to try that cafe down the street with the themed cocoa.” Y/N smirked

“Done.” Vexx smiled

Before opening up the portrait alleyway in the wall

Alleyway 4 was an accident a close call in between Y/N entertaining another boring suitor and telling them everything Y/N disapproved of and a lecture from the king himself. Luckily Vexx opened the hallway passage just in time as the walls opened in closed again enough for Y/N to slip through.

“Ughhhh I don’t like any of them.” Y/N sunk against the wall down to the floor.

“Eventually he is going to do what he did to my eldest brother and force a proposal for an alliance” Y/N added

“Have you ever liked anyone?” Vexx inquired

“Once entirely by accident, but have I ever been in a real relationship not a staged one for tabloids or an arranged one for an alliance no....” Y/N frowned

“You deserve a real relationship Y/N not just something to please you’re parents or the press.... You deserve somebody who will cherish you I know what it’s like to be let down by people close to you or to want something you can’t have so badly.... I just think you deserve to have what you want especially when other people don’t get that privilege.” Vexx sat down next to Y/N

“What do you want that you can’t have.” The young royal questioned innocent and oblivious.

Unaware that to Vexx thier gaurd it May as well have been an interrogation by the heated all too familiar red color through out his face.

“It doesn’t matter I can’t have it.... I would be risking everything hell I’d be risking them.” Vexx ran his fingers through his hair in slight panic.

“Them?” Y/N frowned a bit not that they had intended it.

“Yeah.” Vexx replied “them.”

“You deserve happiness too Vexx.... you have helped me avoid arrangements that would have ignored my comfort and consent ...you allowed me to see outside for the first time from a citizens Perspective. You’ve allowed me freedom... you deserve the same. Fuck the rules right?” Y/N smiled melancholically.

“Yeah.....actually fuck the rules.” Vexx cuped his hands around Y/Ns cheeks and kissed them.

“Them ... you ....I ... Im sorry.” Vexx looked away.

“Fuck sorry.” Y/N kissed back.

____________________________________________

Alleyway 5

“Y/N... It’s just your brothers wedding it’ll be fine.” Vexx lied and knew he had lied.

He tried to tell himself he could turn back that they didn’t have to die he was leaving today for good... he had to....

The event was in a week and well Vexx wasn’t and couldn’t stay for it... he just lied to the Royal he was guarding hoping that in his last hours as Thier gaurd they would get smart or be less trusting or be more like the other royals in Thier family ... and less Like themselves.....

He memorized Thier face before leaving... or tried too. If Y/N was lucky maybe they’d get out before the wedding see something outside the palace see ... before everything. He always could go back he didn’t have to give up the passages or the plans. He didn’t have to.... but he did have to he would die if he didn’t do it was a question of himself or them.

He wasn’t about to die not for anyone. So he found an alleyway and left forever.

Alleyway 6

It was done... he had heard it from one of the holographic tabloid screens outside of town.... they were dead they all had died .... the plan worked.

Yay...

The bartender wasn’t enthused neither was anyone else the days leading up until the funeral days Vexx spent In drink in shithole taverns ...

Thier funeral the funeral of Y/N....

How could he do that? He ...? He killed them he wouldn’t see the gleam in thier eyes anymore. There would be no more of that stupid perfect melodious laugh. The worst part is for a royal Y/N believed in him as much as he “pretended” to believe in them.

He used to get a hug in the morning everyday without fail. Now he reminds himself when he wakes up that he left.. so he won’t be getting a hug. Now they are dead so no one will. Y/N also won’t sneak any of the guards the good food the royals are severed in buffet. There won’t be any more old high end clothing delivered to sick children from Y/N. No more interviews where they smiled and crinkled Thier nose cute..... it was all his fault he robbed the word of that.

So now he had to sober up and find himself at a funeral parade he didn’t exactly feel like attending at all.

It felt more like his funeral than even theirs....

He killed Y/N and was going to have the balls to go to Thier funeral.

Vexx wondered if thier ever was a worse sin than a killer going to the funeral of thier victim. Worse yet of thier ex that they killed. What sick irony made him feel he had too a fox mourning it’s last prey.

So when Vexx found himself disguised in the front of a crowd of mourners. Counting the sarcofigi until it got to theirs.....

1,the king

2, the kings wives

3, his children

One by one.

To say it was melancholic is an understatement. To watch as a gold and silver box lit with digital lights to accentuate what they looked like alive.

The awful thing about it was Vexx noted even though it was well carved it didn’t pick up a lot about Y/N. Things that couldn’t be depicted now not in paintings or statues. The final resemblance to Y/N didn’t capture them at all.

Too stoic

Vexx noted Y/N was too mischievous always with a plan or prank... just to take the others down a peg. Always in trouble but always laughing. They had a habit of putting their head back. The sarcophagus should have had Thier smirk at least...

But it didn’t ... he didn’t .... no one did.

He remembered suddenly he wasn’t just at the funeral for a friend or lover ..... he was at the funeral of the people he killed and suddenly the bodies just the sheer numbers made him feel more like the people carrying the satcophogi. He left the crowd to hide back in an alleyway..... with heavy shoulders the bottle from the bar and a reason to forget.... how many bodies and how many people had he taken from Thier loved ones how many just like Y/N with smiles and laughs. How many guards he had trained with.

It didn’t matter he just wanted to forget.

____________________________________

Alleyway 7

Vexx hated ghosts or at least the idea of them but in the crowded bar. On what must’ve been the shadiest planet ever he started hallucinating.

Y/N was dead

He had killed Y/N

He never deserved them they should have ran. If they stayed away from him he couldn’t have hurt them. Especially not for his selfish purposes.

Vexx weaved his way out of the bar with his latest drink in hand avoiding the once living and carefree royal now stoic ghost. When he walked far enough to understand it was just illusion he sighed.

That is until he heard the same eerily paced footsteps shambling against the desert floor.

Loosing his smart ass composure he dropped the remains of his glass.

Getting whoever or whatever was following him into a hold. Uttering some quick threat about how stupid it is to follow strangers into alleys he pressed a knife into the throat of whoever this was. Y/N is dead so it’s probably somebody copying Thier style it’s not entirely unlikely people didn’t want to dress like they did they were known for that.

“Who are you?” Vexx questioned through gritted teeth.

“Y/N.” They sounded unsure before Thier face contorted in pain.

“Prince(ss)?” Being the only word he could utter as they weren’t a ghost he felt them he touched them.... his skin felt the same unmistakable tickle of warmth where his hands met Thier neck.....

It was them very much alive and as much as he wanted to give in right here say sorry and cry about what he’d done .... he was about to do the opposite because maybe if Y/N thinks He hates them then Y/N won’t try to save him or follow him or redeem him

Vexx killed Thier family which made him not only dangerous but a monster and so upholding a broken vow made so long ago Vexx looked Y/N in the eyes and broke Thier heart one final time in hopes that he could protect them like he should’ve what now feels like a lifetime ago

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Story Ideas I posted on Soompi for K-dramas.

Posted November 14, 2020. I worked on these with some other Korean adoptees. Posting here to document it. Triple back up is not a bad idea when you do this type of thing. Elevator Pitch:

- Alt Joseon History Reverse Drama Harem set after the Imjin War, Women-centric (I suggested it last round, but I'm making it more attractive)

- Heart-warming adoptee tale set with Jaebeol family as the birth family.

Reverse Alt Joseon history Harem (I left historical research notes in for you to further research too).

After the Imjin War, Prince Gwanghae declared an "Honorable Women's list", which made the Queen Dowager upset with him and the crown prince (In real history he used the excuse of less arable land because of Japanese invasion to give land from widows to men, so they could get royal titles. In Nepal, in the mountains, less land has also meant that for some peoples there, the women marry a group of brothers who rotate time with the wife, guaranteeing land to her and them). So, she deposed him and installed the daughter of the Royal Consort Ui to the throne of Joseon. Joseon has been a Matriarchy ever since then with women ruling the throne and a harem to match. All of the key positions have been ruled by women. Men have to get permission to divorce, they cannot own land, and they are put on cycles per month rotation to favor their wife, who have all the power. Since then, the merit-based system has somewhat fallen apart with men severely devalued. Men are considered weaker than women in every aspect-- not as smart, frivolous, fixated on material possessions (like hair, clothes, make up, etc and landing a good woman with money), unable to learn anything other than etiquette on how to properly serve women, unable to do military affairs, unable to do magic (Based on harnessing spirits and Mugyo) [I suppose one could have a male-based magic system too that more subtle maybe based on Buddhism? since men imported Buddhism to Korea], can't do ancestor rituals but must provide the food, widows are expected to die (because who will take care of the men and provide for them if their breadwinner is gone?), and much physically weaker. They are devalued if they can't marry by the time they are 30 because they are viewed as much less virile. They are there to lead women astray from their husbands in the minds of society, and they are the ones punished for faults. If they rape or are accused of rape, they are met with death. They are considered peacocks for decoration and fill the brothels and red districts. They are allowed dance and to do street dramas, but this is considered a lesser art form compared to the lavish palace versions. Queen of Joseon, considered the most beautiful such that all the women want to imitate her... with her curly hair and freckles, is on the throne and has amassed a large portion of the men, leaving many of the Noble women unmarried. Her harem has grown huge with mostly pretty boys she's selected. She has lavish palace dances every day with pretty boys from her harem to entertain her. She also has them perform plays [Can reference previous dramas and do anachronistic references] for her more lavish than the next. The Prime Minister, has been supporting her habits to distract her from her duties while controlling the throne. The Prime Minister, while she has one husband and one concubine has been neglecting her husband and spending all her time with her concubine. There is a rebellion swelling against them... *** Extended version: In the midst of this, there are Portuguese traders that have come to shore with black men who are slaves, come to do trade (this really happened in Korean history). One of the slaves comes to the court to help refine the map of Africa (Gangnido was done in 1402 and Portuguese contact with Japan happened in 1543, so it's not that far fetched according to history). While helping the Minister of Arts, they fall in love with each other. She teaches him Korean, and he teaches her about his part of Africa. He comes from West Africa. (Hausa [Queen Amina died in 1610], maybe and maybe give him a Korean name later?) There, both men and women can be tribal leaders and share responsibilities. He comes to teach her that both men and women can be equal. The court grants him his freedom for his services, and he stays and marries this woman, despite objections, who, then becomes a part of the resistance against the Queen.

The Heads of the resistance is none other than the Prime Minister's concubine, not the Prime Minister's husband, who has been loyal this entire time. (Delaying this discovery is a good idea) Tired of having to service the Prime Minister every night, and entertain her, he has been leading a double life. He wants men in control again. The other conspirator is the Queen's top consort, who looks like a bumbling fool with his love of jokes (especially dry humor), stupid puns, food (though not fat, just fancy food), and has tried to look as useless and tolerant of the system as possible. But he loves his Queen deeply, which is why he wants to end the system and ask for equality. They have been meeting and arguing at an eating establishment since Royals aren't let into Red Districts, where a widowed lovable Halmeoni (You can get her to sell Subway sandwiches to camera, etc for laughs. Subway and Quiznos have a sense of humor... so why not ask if they are willing? Since it's alt history--make winks to the audience that you know it's not accurate.) has been slowly learning all of the court secrets... which is how the Queen learns of their dirty plots. The person who wanted this scenario fleshed out also wants the Queen to be... "Queen can’t be too flaky- forgetful to a fault, yea. Clumsy . Cold, a bit snarky, always on edge and with quite an appetite.  Forgiving of the wrong folks. Always looking for good in them but not trusting. Independent and she has to drive a black carriage!"

How this concludes, with equality, crushing the rebellion, or with men, again, taking power and thus making everyone question what was better is up to you, if you choose this idea. Five Act or 기승전결 is up to you. (Or mix them).

Suggested issues to include (and why you might want to write this) and errata:

Can challenge current Korean issues of spousal abuse, feminism, gender issues (Such as nonbinary people), trans (Such as transmen), Make Mugyo a state religion since it was supported a lot by women during Joseon (also supported LGBTQIA, past and present. Baksu~~) And also challenge our understanding of history by adding in people like Lady Jang Gye Hyang (1598-1680), who would be against the current government and for rule by men, mention mention Heo Nanseorheon (Pre-Imjin war... she needs a drama done about her because she's always overshadowed by her brothers and made into a brat, rather than a full character and an intelligent woman, which she was). ImYunjidang (1721-1793) and Kang Chonggildang (1772-1832) for example... also aren't often mentioned figures. There were historical figures in real life that were for and against the new Joseon order of Neo Confucianism, though many of the women that spoke out had their papers burned by the patriarchy. Inserting those figures historically sageuk have been resistant to insert because it goes against the ideas of Joseon being an idealistic patriarchy might add spice to the drama. One can also challenge the idea that "traditional" values are male dominated by pointing out that widows in Joseon pre-Imjin war could own land and pass it to their daughters unchallenged, that LGBTQIA was more widely accepted, and that there were great Queens before that like Seondeok by upholding them as the rule, rather than the exception as reasons why the Matriarchy is "superior" to the previous Patriarchy.

One of the women who helped with this premise likes Lee Min Ho a lot....  lol She'd probably request that the Prime Minister's Concubine be Lee Min Ho. (He hasn't done a Joseon historical drama in a while and I think he could play both sides well--warm and sweet and then cold and callous...).

Probably needs a woman to write this one versed in feminism and history or a woman and man team. I hope it passes the Bechdel test (Two women talk about something other than men, preferably more than one time), the Mako Mori Test (Women have a motivation other than romance or the man and doesn't degrade over time). and the Sexy Lamp test (The women have agency to make decisions, face consequences and rescue themselves)... there is no fridging--i.e. killing characters without knowing them solely to motivate the main characters to do something,  and makes us think deeper about gender issues, feminism, etc. I suppose if the writer hits really hard on social issues, it would be probably JTBC material (who haven't done a Historical drama in a while). Tonally, I was hoping for a mixture of laughs and thinking about the issues more deeply, and some tight action to keep us guessing. If you want to argue marketability: I saw Romance of the Tiger and Rose (China) and Ooku by Fumi Yoshinaga. And a friend of mine (also Korean) wanted a drama with her and her (drama) harem of guys, so... we want a Korean commentary on feminism done this way, but with sharper feminism and more imagination attached. Covering modern feminist issues is fine since it's fantasy. Be transgressive.

BTW, for sponsorship: (since the costumes might cost extra, etc) easy... cosmetics advertised by men, done anachronistically to camera, on purpose. Other plugs can be done this way too... which would sell the product, but also make people question gender roles at the same time. Or you can also do plugs this way and suddenly gender them, making people question how this item is "male" or "female". Like a brush, or a wall, drink, sandwich (lol Quiznos and Subway), etc. can be called "Masculine" or "feminine" and be sold to camera, if the sponsors cooperate. (Sold by Pretty Boy actors to the audience... there's a good chance.) This should get you to at most episode 6, if it's paced well and you plotted the rest of the angles. If it's action-filled with lots of twists then the basic scenario will get you through to episode 4. The twists can come later.

And the other one was invented between me and another Korean adoptee...

Elevator Pitch: Heart-warming adoptee tale set with Jaebeol family as the birth family.

Twenty-five years ago, there were identical twins born to the same mother, but because her petition to get a paternity test failed from a Jaebeol family, she was forced by her lover's family to give them up for adoption, despite her best efforts to get into the single mother's homes (the adoption agency ones are pretty terrible because they try to wear down the women into giving up their children and seats are very few at the government ones). A woman had been stalking her while pregnant in order to give up her children for a kickback from the adoption agencies and from the family itself (There were KBS and MBC reports about it in the early 2000's), so with major heartbreak, she decided to give them up. However, her lover never knew this was a case.

The children were split up. One went to the United States, was adopted to a white family, and the other was adopted to Korean family, but never told they were adopted.

In the current time, the US adoptee, has been working for a year and a half to get her dual citizenship. She has a degree in Business accounting and is a very warm person. Despite her talents, she is teaching English in Suwon. She has an allergy to allium (Garlic, onions, etc), which makes it hard on her to eat Korean food. Every time she eats it, she gets gas and a tummy ache. She is constantly mocked by the ajumma in restaurants over it. She does not speak very fluent Korean and only knows Kindergarten Korean. She also often has delusions from Korean dramas as being real. Intelligent, smart, but has a hard time proving it to the Koreans around her because of her lack of language skills. People keep commenting on how she's single, but she finds it hard to date anyone once they find out she is adopted, so thinks she has no roots. Her records were sealed by the military. (US Military adoption is like that) So she takes a trip to Daegu's police station to get a DNA test. Meanwhile...

Meanwhile her twin has grown up in a steady Korean family, but there are things that never quite matched about her story and the family she's lived with. Their profession aspirations are totally different from hers, everyone else has a baby picture, but she doesn't. That feeling of "Jeong" sometimes feels like it's missing. The neighbors talk behind their hands when she passes them. This is when she accidentally discovers the truth talking to a neighborhood recycling Halmeoni. Unlike her twin, she has no allergy to allium and loves it. She mainly works at PC Bang and menial jobs and never really aspired to much because she's always felt like she didn't really truly belong.

*** Extended Pitch At the same time, their father has become the head of the company and a major CEO of a conglomerate. He is unaware of the twins' existence... so there are lots of passing shots between the family members as we get to know them. The company politics have become tricky because the father's seat was never really guaranteed. He still thinks about his lover from time to time, but his seat has become more and more unsure as he's opted adamantly out of marriage. The twin's mother is working at a small time job, and is forced to keep silent about the time she's tried very hard to forget. People shame her if they find out she had children.

When the twins finally get to remeet because of DNA, this shakes up their father's position and his company. The family secrets come out and the mystery of who sent the mysterious woman to stalk their mother starts to unfold, not only the secrets of the company, but of their father and mother's relationship, and of the family relations. But in the middle of this is that feeling of "Jeong" or instant belonging. (I don't think the love of the adoptive family should be diminished or it should be written like if you have more family, you have less love... but that there are things that connect people in different ways and the drama explores those ways of connection and disconnection.)

Issues that can be covered: Single Motherhood, Paternity testing (There was a recent Korean case on this and also another case about 10 years ago, where an adoptee found out they (male) were the son of a Jaebeol person, but the family refused any contact, etc--should be in Korean as well.), Economic differences, what Pres. Kim Dae Jeong called Adoption as the "brain drain" of South Korea (He said it on film, too, just before the reforms <3 Still my favorite president), Prejudices against foreigners, adoptees, and addressing the fact that finding family is difficult because of the shame around adoption and it's not instant. A person can start at 13, and still go through a ton of work and hoops to try to get any info. (The Korean agencies can also be mean/overworked with one person working all of the cases, like for HOLT and ESWS it's this way.) Also can address problems like how cousins can want to find each other, but get blocked because of adoption (You can't marry up to Second Cousins, but if you're adopted, you can't find your extended family members, even if you had connection to them in the past and they know you exist and they aren't allowed to search for you either because the agencies and law block them). Agencies lying that children are either dead, or that they never got communication, when they have. There is a story I know where a mother inquired every year about her child and wrote letters and then the agencies told her they got nothing, and then the matching adoptee wrote every year too, hoping to find their mother and equally got nothing. The agency lied to both of them. Also the old proxy system before it got outlawed where women would stalk pregnant single women to get records. (It's updated to the lawyer proxy system where lawyers stalk single women).

Warmth, not makjang, emphasis on Jeong and nunchi... and Warm and Fuzzy in the end at least... with spurts of humor interspersed would be nice.

Personally, I think if MBC or KBS is willing to help with the footage from the Proxy system report in the early 2000's where women were stalked by other women, those are the networks to pitch it to. It's up their ally. If not... cable. (I love SBS, too, no lies, but they didn't do a report back in the day.) Oh and make it 16 episodes-ish. Not family drama. We don't watch family dramas for length reasons...

[alistonjdrake]

Part Two: Queen for a Hundred Days

Queen Trella ana’Gustavo Pecora Mother to: None Born: Year 1725 after the fall of the Saints Died: Year 1752 after the fall of the Saints

Queen Trella is most often remembered as a childhood friend to King Frederick. But how much time could they really have spent together? King Frederick was sent to Oskya to be a companion for Vadik Ponsonby when he was ten years old. What we know of his childhood before then was spent back and forth from Tadrus and Palogne, studying with whoever his mother could afford. The truth, as far as historical records show, is she was a potential candidate for marriage chosen by Johannes before Arturo announced his plans for Frederick. She came to live in the Pala Harviso before Frederick made a departure. At most, they would have known each other for a month.

It is said, much to the displeasure of Lady Helena, Trella stayed in the Pala Harviso even after Frederick was gone. Perhaps if she was not destined to be with the older brother, they would pair her off with Sebastian. But no such deals were made and she was often referred to as an “honorary daughter”.

Lady Helena may not have liked her, but she was a delight to most others in residence and the rare visitor. Trella was called bubbly and sweet, and although she lacked a certain level of wit and intellectual ability she had a keen sense of humor and was often in a good mood.

There is no record of what her relationship was with Sebastian or how much time they spent together. There is also no record as to whether they seriously courted the idea of marrying.

However, when King Frederick returned to Tadrus to take his place as Royal Governor following his father’s death, they quickly fell into a close relationship. They would have had very little in common. At this time, King Frederick would have spent most of his life away from Tadrus and its culture, upon his arrival he was regarded as strange and practically Oskyan and demeanor and hobbies. Despite was he became famous for, what he elevated Tadrus to in his short time there, in the beginning, he was different and would have been unlike anyone Trella had ever met before.

She remained in Tadrus when King Frederick went to Graza to claim Escan and for the entirety of his marriage to Queen Isolde, although contemporaries claimed she had been a lover of his once they were married. In truth, King Frederick took his fewest paramours during his first marriage and his official accounts do not include his second wife.

They were married during a lavish ceremony in Graza. The costs were astronomical as Frederick was keen to erase Isolde from history. He talked to anyone who would listen about how much he loved his “dearest Trella” but few could claim to say they’d seen the two spend all that much time together. No evidence of letters between them has ever been found and while she spent more time in his chambers than her own, it was also said that Trella had great difficulty sleeping by herself. In place of Frederick, she would sleep with one of her ladies in waiting. During her short reign, Frederick jumped from three paramours to twelve, each of whom would sit on either side of the royal couple during public dinners and events.  

It would be said that during the wedding, while art would betray Trella as radiant and glowing, the guests would describe her as looking pale and “green” as King Frederick had all three of his original paramours present. She was coronated on the same day. When Frederick placed the crown on her head some joked they saw her neck bruise from the weight. At their own wedding banquet, Archpriest Davalos pulled the new queen aside and warned her not to consummate her marriage.

Whether or not she did remains a mystery. After their marriage, Frederick occupied himself with pressing matters of the state in the vacuum following Queen Isolde’s death. Frederick’s claim to the throne was always shaky, but at least being married to the true-blooded Rios queen had given him leverage. In her death, people wondered if the throne should rightfully pass to her children and heirs and a regent be named. Trella busied herself with repairing their reputation among the common folk and cultivated the first big wave of the noble practice of donating to charity and caring about public opinion.

She was one of the most charitable queens and one who showed herself among the common folk the most. 

Her first task as queen seemed to be undoing any stern atmosphere that had been put in place by Queen Isolde. She wanted things lively. She had daily tea parties with other noble ladies and took it upon herself to plan dinners and dances. When Frederick had time for her people said they looked like a good couple. They made each other happy, but it was also noted that Frederick did not hide that he thought she “lacked education” and was not a good conversation partner. 

She eventually became friends with some of King Frederick’s paramours, differing greatly from Queen Isolde and most of those who would come after her. Her closest relationship would be with Angela ana’José Cadaval a duchess and wife of one of King Frederick’s councilmen. Angela was often called Trella’s counterpart as she had spent her youth traveling with tutors and was highly educated and worldly. She was also ten years older. 

This was something King Frederick certainly liked the most about her given he had spent his last marriage being constantly criticized, but Queen Trella’s open approval and warmth towards his paramours made it into a quirky family. 

At one of her parties, two drunk noblemen would get into a fight and stumble into the queen, resulting in her falling and breaking her elbow. A week of arguments and rumors would follow before King Frederick became convinced the only way to appease his wife was to implement a law stating that no one may touch a member of the royal family without express permission, and doing so would result in great punishment. 

Trella would often be accused of doing anything for attention. She would be called silly and loud and grew very dependant on Angela. So much so, at her own events, Angela would speak for her. 

No one is exactly sure why the two were so close although some speculated it was a result of Angela’s ambitions for her and her own family but Angela would also be disposed from her position a year after Trella’s death and be sent back to her ancestral home.

Queen Trella would die on the hundredth day after her coronation and wedding doing just what she was always accused of. Getting attention. She drowned during a race in one of the pools in the gardens of Graza Palace when she got a cramp and the law put in place to make her happy ended up being what prevented those watching from rescuing her. King Frederick would get rid of the law days later but he would also marry again within a few months so we can’t say he was too broken up about it either.

Very little remains from Queen Trella’s short reign. Her body was returned to Tadrus for burial. She is most remembered by Lady Angela ana’José Cadaval, Duchess of Corudiz who outlived both her and King Frederick and remarked once to a friend who asked, “She was good in bed. A little dumb, though.” 

[outlanderlush]

SAM HEUGHAN

By William Shatner Photography David Bailey

Published April 25, 2016

I understand that you have these contraptions for women called a Shewee, which means women can stand up to go to the bathroom, and that’s good. That makes men and women more equal. Sam Heughan

In every sense, Sam Heughan is the stuff of fantasy. No fan base in the world rides harder for the pinup of their choice than the Heughligans—who in turn have cast him as the star of their fantasies, in large part, as a result of his role in Starz’s steamy time-travel soap Outlander, which returned for its second season in April (the #droutlander is over!!).  

On the show, the 36-year-old Heughan plays the dreamy but star-crossed lover Jamie, a Highlander in 18th-century Scotland. In real life, Heughan grew up in the shadows of a 17th-century castle in Southwest Scotland, and his career has been no less fabulous. While still attending classes at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in 2003, he was nominated for an Olivier Award. Ten years and several TV roles later, he landed Outlander and the part that launched a zillion ‘shippers. 

And still, the fantasia does not end there for Heughan, as we discovered when we spoke to him last year. Turns out, there was a little (very little; hobbit-sized, in fact) something of the mystical traveler in him from the get-go.

“Are you really named after Samwise Gamgee?” we asked.

“Well, yes,” he said. “On my birth certificate, it’s just Sam, but my brother does have a name from The Lord of the Rings. It’s Cirdan—he was the shipwright at the end of Lord of the Rings that takes them across to wherever it is they all go when the elves leave the earth. My family were pretty big hippies.”

“Did you identify with Samwise when you read the books as a child?”

“It always was like, ‘I don’t want to be that one!’ because he’s so nice and honorable and good. And I wanted to be Bilbo; I wanted to be more dangerous, less dependable. It’s funny, though—as a child, you’re already thinking, ‘Who do I want to be and how do I see myself portrayed?’ ”

Which made us curious. Over e-mail recently, we wondered, “Are you much of an escapist or fantasist?”

“I guess I’m quite practical,” Heughan wrote. “Or at least like to think I am. I do tend to lose myself in whatever job I’m doing or hobby I’m into. (Currently, I love fitness activities—I have run many marathons, triathlons; I spent Christmas and New Year’s in Thailand training at a Muay Thai gym.)”

“So, are you a fan of sci-fi?”

“I love sci-fi. Growing up, I was a big fan of the Alienseries, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, etcetera. Plus, anything apocalyptic—I Am Legend, 1984, Battlestar Galactica … I find end-of-the-world stuff enthralling—to imagine how life will be in the future on Earth and in space!” 

While on a press trip to the fantastical city of the future, Tokyo—or, perhaps, on a mission to discard a ring of pure power in some distant land—Heughan got on the phone with another sci-fi stud, William Shatner himself, to talk about real love, real haggis, and really bad gas.

WILLIAM SHATNER: Say, it’s the middle of the night there, isn’t it?

SAM HEUGHAN: It’s a half past seven in the morning. Happy birthday.

SHATNER: Thank you so much for the bottle. I’ll treasure it and drink it really slowly, thinking good thoughts about you in Australia. Tell me what you’re doing.

HEUGHAN: I’m currently in Tokyo and it’s pretty mental. We went out yesterday and had a look around, but I got pretty ill. We were supposed to go to this amazing sushi bar and … I don’t know what I ate on the flight, but it wasn’t good. So my first day in Tokyo was a bit of a letdown.

SHATNER: And those bathrooms are so small.

HEUGHAN: I think I’m falling into some sort of relationship with this toilet.

SHATNER: You get a porcelain fixation and you sort of hug the bowl.

HEUGHAN: You can hug the bowl, but also, this one washes you, it can give you a massage.

SHATNER: It’s actually better than a girlfriend.

HEUGHAN: I think we might be falling in love.

SHATNER: [laughs] Are you shooting in Japan?

HEUGHAN: No, we’re here for press and we’ve got some fan events. There were some fans that waited for me to get off the airplane last night at 4 a.m. And they brought me lots of gifts, including some Japanese whiskey, which I didn’t send you.

SHATNER: Suntory.

HEUGHAN: This one is Hibiki.

SHATNER: Their beers are really good. I was in Tokyo and Osaka, and that’s really a beautiful place if you can get there—on a bullet train it’s a couple of hours. Do you like Japanese food?

HEUGHAN: Yeah. I’m extremely excited to just eat sushi and obviously have some good beer. I’m a big fan of Kirin and Asahi and all that.

SHATNER: I had an event here yesterday, about 20 people. There was somebody lecturing, and in the middle of her talking, somebody farted. Everyone looked at everybody else because it was outside, and there was no directional sound. But I knew it was the lady speaking because I was close-up. [laughs] Have you ever been in one of those situations?

HEUGHAN: I just had one in Australia.

SHATNER: Tell me about it.

HEUGHAN: We were doing an interview on live television, and there were like five of us on the sofa, five interviewees chatting. And they brought out some haggis for the presenters to try. And haggis, as you know, is a delicious Scottish dish that should be eaten on occasion but—

SHATNER: Delicious only to the Scots, Sam.

HEUGHAN: Well, I think the …

SHATNER: Only to the Scots, Sam.

HEUGHAN: Well, it’s a delicious …

SHATNER: Only to the Scots.

HEUGHAN: That’s why we send it to you guys so you can try it as well.

SHATNER: No, no you send it to us so we realize how fierce the Scots really are.

HEUGHAN: How fierce our stomachs are.

SHATNER: Right. So everybody ate it, and then what happened?

HEUGHAN: Well, as it came out on a platter, I thought it looked uncooked. There was this terrible stench and it smelled like someone had, I don’t know, lost control of their bowels.

SHATNER: That’s really what haggis is, you know.

HEUGHAN: Well, exactly. But I think everyone else thought someone had farted, and we’re all sitting there talking on this couch, and I was convinced it was one of the other presenters. And they probably all thought, “Who is this very smelly Scotsman?” But they all proceeded to try the haggis, and I think they’re probably going to be very, very ill.

SHATNER: [laughs] The person was never found out? Well, once it’s in gas form, it’s difficult to determine its origin.

HEUGHAN: [laughs] That’s true. We need to develop a system. They probably had one on Star Trek, didn’t they? So that you could track somebody by their—

SHATNER: Well, no. But do you have dogs? We have dogs, and you can tell which dog is passing air by the smell.

HEUGHAN: Uh, great.

SHATNER: Have you ever been able to identify somebody by the smell of their methane gas?

HEUGHAN: I don’t think I have. What do yours smell like?

SHATNER: Well, roses and daffodils really.

HEUGHAN: Daffodils, wow.

SHATNER: Have you ever been in bed with someone who passed air? Do you mention it or ignore it? What’s your custom?

HEUGHAN: I think it’s probably more gentlemanly to ignore it. Is it not? Unless it’s someone you know very well. How many people do you get in bed with that pass gas?

SHATNER: It depends whether I’ve offered them haggis or not.

HEUGHAN: Or a half a bottle of whiskey.

SHATNER: Yes, Suntory particularly. [laughs] There was a commercial here about eliminating gas from your system, and at the end of the commercial, there are two people in bed and the lady lifts up a blanket and wiggles the blanket, airing it out a little bit. It’s a subtle note that somebody with a fun sense of humor used on a commercial. But it really is a matter of how well you know somebody, isn’t it?

HEUGHAN: I think it is, and maybe when you can do that, you know that you’ve gotten really close to someone.

SHATNER: Now, that’s interesting. So is that the moment of love, when they pass gas in your presence and nobody’s self-conscious about it?

HEUGHAN: I think you might be on to something here.

SHATNER: The criteria of love is if you can accuse them of doing it. It’s evil, but necessary. A true test. If they accept the guilt when you know it’s yours, you know they love you. That’s brings them down to the street level, and do you want to put your lady on a pedestal, or do you want her on the porcelain toilet?

HEUGHAN: Probably a Japanese toilet.

SHATNER: It’s so complex.

HEUGHAN: It’s just so good. I think I’d rather justhave a Japanese toilet. I understand that you have these contraptions for women called a Shewee, which means women can stand up to go to the bathroom, and that’s good. That makes men and women more equal. They have them in the military.

SHATNER: I never thought of that. But, if the troops are mixed, do the ladies go in the same place the guys go?

HEUGHAN: I guess so, yeah. I guess if you’re in the military, you’ve got to be quick and, therefore, you can go anywhere I suppose.

SHATNER: It can be lethal. I wonder if you can smell a soldier coming by the MREs they’re eating.

HEUGHAN: What are MREs?

SHATNER: Meals, Ready-to-Eat. I guess they’re precooked and all you have to do is heat them up.

HEUGHAN: Oh, Christ. I bet they were bad then.

SHATNER: They must have been bad, but not as bad as Spam or something like that.

HEUGHAN: Or haggis, yeah.

SHATNER: Well, the Scots used haggis while they were on marches, didn’t they? Wasn’t that the whole reason? It didn’t rot too easily?

HEUGHAN: I’m not sure if that’s quite true, but they would make porridge and get a bit of blood from an animal. You’d bleed an animal a little bit and put it in the porridge. You’d basically have bloody oatmeal, which is very nutritious I think.

SHATNER: Well, depending on whose blood you took.

HEUGHAN: Yeah, you don’t want to bleed out your horse too much, otherwise, you’re not going to go anywhere. Are you having a good birthday, though?

SHATNER: I think I’ve exhausted that subject completely. Where do you go from Japan?

HEUGHAN: I’m coming to see you. I’m expecting to see you in Los Angeles next week.

SHATNER: You come here and I’ll take you to the best sushi. I’ve been to Tokyo and other places in Japan, and I’ve never found sushi as good as the place right near us in Los Angeles.

HEUGHAN: That’s a deal.

WILLIAM SHATNER IS AN ACTOR, AUTHOR, AND FILMMAKER. HE HAS WON TWO EMMYS AND A GOLDEN GLOBE AWARD. 

[welllpthisishappening]

The Period of the Long Change (15/15)

It’s quick. One second she’s standing there and everything is fine and then Emma looks up and it’s not. It’s awful. And the lights are too bright and there are too many rooms and too many opinions and her phone won’t stop ringing because everything seems to be changing all at once. She’s never been great at coping with change. But, maybe, if she can just figure it out and stay right where she is, with Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, at her side, it’ll be alright.

It’s slow. One second he’s standing there and everything is fine and then Killian’s breath catches and it’s not. It’s terrifying. And the noises are too loud and there are too many questions and he can’t find the right answers to any of them, not sure how to cope with everything changing all at once. That’s never really been his forte. But, maybe, if he can just figure it out and stay right where he is, with Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations, at his side, it’ll be alright.

It’s another season and another challenge and Emma and Killian are both struggling to get over the boards.

Rating: Mature Word Count: Like...9.5K. It’s the last chapter. It’s long.  AN: Hey! This story is over! If you’ve been clicking and reading and sticking around, I cannot possibly tell you how much I appreciate it. Even the idea of you guys being interested in this silly, over-sized hockey family blows my mind. So, thank you. For realz. I have a questionable number of one-shots still sitting in my docs and I don’t know that I’ll ever actually close the book on this verse officially, so there’s probably some more adjectives to come. Thanks for reading, internet. 

Also on Ao3 and FF.net and Tumblr if that’s your jam.

“A little up on the right.” Emma grunted, trying to shift the kid in her arms and that only ended with a foot in her thigh and a mumbled apology and they were going to rip the sign. And maybe the balloons had been overkill. They’d been Mary Margaret’s idea anyway.

“Reese’s, my arms are going to fall off my body,” Emma warned, glancing over her shoulder when she heard something that sounded a hell of a lot like several hockey sticks crashing to the ground. “Margaret,” she snapped, met with a pair of wide eyes and an innocent face that Emma was fairly positive her other kid was practicing. “What did we say about running around?” “C’mere, Pegs,” Mary Margaret said, holding her hand out and pulling the nearly two-year-old and decidedly rambunctious kid against her thigh. “That was totally my fault anyway, I got distracted by how crooked the sign is.”a

Emma sighed, letting her head fall against Matt’s back which wasn’t really helping her general state of being at all because she could feel the stitching of the lettering press against her forehead and that just kind of felt over the top.

More than the balloons.

God, there were so many balloons.

“I thought we only had to go a little up on the right,” Emma muttered. Her arms were going to be incredible toned by the end of this. “A little does not suggest that it’s incredibly crooked.” “I didn’t use that word.”

“There was an implication. And maybe we should be using actual words. So my arms don’t fall off before we even get to puck drop.” “Your arms are going to fall off?” Matt asked, twisting against Emma and landing another kick. She grimaced.

“Not if I can avoid it. And why do you sound so interested in that, huh?’

Emma made a face, arms grateful when Matt rested his feet on one of the lower cubbies in the locker they were currently decorating and he laughed when she peppered his face with kisses. “Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom,” he said, voice getting louder with every shout. They were playing a dangerous balancing game, but the jersey he had on was new and Peggy’s was almost comically large, even after being custom-made because they were those kinds of people now and decorating Killian’s locker with signs their kids made the night before suddenly didn’t seem quite as ridiculous.

It was, after all, kind of momentous.

The Post headline had been almost clever that morning – Jones’ing for a Comeback, which played very well to the collective sense of humor of most of the New York Rangers first line and the Vankald-Jones group text message, but David thought it was lazy and Killian had rolled his eyes when Emma showed him her phone.

And then kissed her because it was the season opener and it didn’t land on Matt’s birthday this year, but that was only three days away and it was a comeback and she wasn’t really nervous.

Honestly.

She was excited and a little anxious and a little frustrated, really, because it was raining and the tent guys from Bed-Stuy had been incredibly difficult in the last week. She’d filled out so much paperwork she was positive she had carpal tunnel in both wrists.

Just to prove a point or something.

Emma wasn’t nervous.

At all.

She was fine. It was going to be fine. Killian had played in preseason games anyway and nothing had happened and practice was great and he really hadn’t argued Ariel’s PT schedule much that summer, so that was some kind of miracle and it was going to be great.

That was even better than fine.

Great, good, fantastic, one-hundred percent totally ok.

Ok was not a good adjective for this situation.

She hoped he didn’t get hit. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do if he got hit.

“Mom,” Matt whispered, pulling on the front of Emma’s shirt and she hadn’t actually changed into something professional yet. She wasn’t entirely sure she was going to. The Jones in between her shoulder blades matched her kids.

And at some point she’d become some kind of sentimental freak.

Probably after reading that Post story while Killian watched pre-game film with Matt and Peggy.

“Yeah, kid,” Emma said quickly, shaking her head like she was trying to get rid of conversational and vaguely emotional cobwebs. She wasn’t entirely sure it worked. She might have been a little worried. But only a little.

Not a lot.

That would have been insane.

He’d played in preseason games already.

This was not a preseason game.

“Can we fix Dad’s sign now?”

Emma blinked, licking her lips like that would fix whatever was clearly wrong with her heartbeat and they needed to order new walkie talkies because the one hanging from her belt was doing an absolute garbage job of delivering whatever message Merida was shouting.

If it had to do with the tents Emma was going to scream.

“We can absolutely do that,” she nodded. “Ok, come here, and try not to flail your legs out when you move.

Matt grinned – which seemed like an unfair card for the universe to play in whatever twisted game it was currently competing in with Emma – twisting and wobbling a little and one of his feet fell off the shelf. It slammed into Emma’s right shin.

She couldn’t quite stop her exclamation of pain, hissing in a breath of air and squeezing her eyes shut, but that only led to her being entirely unprepared for the rest of Matt’s body to collide with her chest and they should have staged some kind of walk through for this.

There hadn’t been time.

And Matt had gone to the actual walk through anyway.

“Are you ok?” Mary Margaret asked, genuine concern in the question. Emma nodded, but she couldn’t actually voice her guarantee, slightly worried about the bruise she swore she could feel blossoming on her skin.

“Sorry, Mom,” Matt whispered. That was like several aces and some kind of royal flush and Emma didn’t really know any other card games, but the universe was definitely the dealer in this strange metaphor and had definitely drawn Blackjack as soon as it flipped its cards over.

Emma wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, ignoring the slight scratch of brand-new jersey fabric under her cheek when she leaned forward and he didn’t squirm against her kiss. So, maybe, she was the one winning the metaphor.

She’d lost track of it anyway.

“You know what I think we need?” Emma asked, Matt’s hair nearly finding its way into her mouth when he shook her head. “More stick tape.” Mary Margaret laughed behind her, a wide smile on her face when Emma twisted around. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of that before. That’s definitely what the whole project was missing.” “Well, we can’t afford to let these priceless works of art and questionable number of balloons suffer for our lack of planning, can we?” “That would be irresponsible.”

Emma’s arms ached, still or probably always would after this, but she swore the happiness was literally bubbling out of her soul at this point and she’d have to apologize to Kristoff for stealing all the stick tape.

“Can you see any in Dad’s locker, Mattie?”

He made a contradictory noise – which was only slightly like Killian and a bit like Will when he didn’t appreciate particular whistles, and Mary Margaret’s eyes bugged slightly when she realized what was happening. Emma’s cheek muscles were starting to ache too.

She dropped Matt back onto his feet, fingers moving with almost practiced ease through the drawer he’d been standing on and he yelled look when he found a half-finished roll.

“That’s perfect kid,” Emma said, pulling the tape out of his hand and neither she nor Mary Margaret were surprised when he grabbed a puck too.

“Put it in your pocket so no one sees you take it when we go back upstairs,” Mary Margaret suggested. Emma’s jaw cracked when it dropped.

“I don’t even know who you are right now, Reese’s.” Mary Margaret shrugged, but she’d snuck balloons into Madison Square Garden several hours before a season-opening event and puck drop against the Flyers and Emma probably should have expected that too.

She was fairly positive David was playing lookout at the other end of the hallway.

“Someone who bought real, high-quality balloons for more than one celebration.” Emma blinked. “What?” “You heard me.” “Are you kidding me?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “That makes no sense at all.” “Yeah, well I don’t want to be accused of not being able to keep a secret later on,” Mary Margaret said. “But I’d maybe reconsider sneaking out of the Garden later.” “What?” “You said that already.”

“I know, I know,” Emma stammered, mind racing and trying to figure out what was going on at the same time she was trying to understand what the hell Merida was talking about on the walkie-talkie. They needed to get out of that locker room. Soon. They had to go stand in the rain. Or not in the rain.

She’d punch all the tent people if there was actually rain involved.

“But, like….what?” Emma asked. Peggy wiggled against Mary Margaret’s side, dangerously close to a wail and that was not going to end well if they were still in the locker room.

“You can sneak out of the restaurant later,” Mary Margaret answered. “Just maybe don’t leave the Garden without going uptown first.” “We live uptown.” “You’re being difficult on purpose now,” Mary Margaret accused, but she couldn’t stop smiling and Killian’s locker was going to be covered completely in stick tape by the time Matt was done with it.

Emma shook her head. “I’m not, honestly. I am…”

She drifted off, teeth sinking into her lower lip and shoulders heaving when she inhaled deeply and it would have been stupid to start crying in the middle of the New York Rangers locker room. So she blinked instead.

That was way better.

Definitely.

For sure.

“Yeah, that was totally the goal,” Mary Margaret said. “Don’t bother asking if that was an intentional pun, it was and I expect you tell everyone how absolutely hysterical you think I am later on tonight.” “Hopefully after some real goals.” “I’ve got no doubt whatsoever.”

“Ah, that was good.” “Not the longest hope speech I’ve ever given, but it really is supposed to be a surprise.” “Still hit the mark,” Emma promised, letting Peggy grab ahold of her fingers when she managed to get back on the ground. Mary Margaret’s upper body strength was no match for her quasi-namesake.

“And,” Ruby added, coming around the corner like she’d simply been waiting to hit her mark in the conversation. Emma rolled her eyes. “She and Cap would totally sneak out of the Garden if they could. So we had to be proactive about this.”

“Don’t you have media to keep at bay?” Emma asked.

“Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here. And they got their stuff already because, you know, we’ve got that whole pre-game thing happening. With your carpet.” “How’s it look?” “The carpet?” “Yeah. Appropriately blue? Not damp.” “They put tents up, Em,” Ruby said slowly, like she was talking to a person who was slightly to moderately terrified of what would happen when her hockey-playing husband inevitably got hit against the boards that night.

It was hockey. That was how it worked.

Maybe Emma was worried.

Maybe might have meant definitely.

“And they look ok?”

Ruby nodded, smile spreading across her face like it was trying to set a record for being slightly frustrating. “I think they knew you’d threaten to run them over with several large machines if they didn’t do it perfectly.” “Aw, that’s kind of rough,” Emma sighed, but also kind of true and the footprints on one of the signs was only because Peggy had been trying to imitate her pacing in her office the night before. Merida had probably told Ruby that.

“And accurate. The tents look fine. The stands look fine. The carpet is exceptionally blue because it is the same carpet we’ve been using for decades.” “We haven’t been here that long,” Mary Margaret mumbled.

“Really? God, that can’t be right. It feels like forever.” “And that seems kind of depressing,” Emma pointed out. “Mattie, I think we’re good with the tape. Put that back where you found it, ok?” He made a noise, a jumbled string of words that made a hell of a lot more sense when Emma twisted to find he’d used all the tape and she should have been ready for that. Ruby tried to turn her laughter into a convincing cough.

“You are an artist, mini-Jones,” she proclaimed, crouching down to wrap both arms around him. “Hey, how many hours until we hit the five-year-old mark?” “Sixty-three,” he yelled. Emma blinked again. Mary Margaret might have actually cackled. Peggy didn’t seem to appreciate either. She quite clearly wanted to knock over more equipment.

“That’s actually pretty close,” Ruby said. The smile on her face widened, but it might have also gotten a little softer and she was definitely in the running for biggest pushover when it came to being charmed by Matthew David Jones, particularly three days before his fifth birthday. “We’ve been practicing,” she added, glancing up at Emma’s undoubtedly stunned expression. “Your kid’s going to be a mathematical genius by the time I’m done with him.” “That sounded really aggressive,” Emma muttered.

“It’s because we’ve been using major New York Rangers dates in history to help explain it.” “And that sounds like cheating,” Mary Margaret said.

Ruby shrugged. “Whatever works, right? As long as he knows how to add by the end of it.” “I think that’s what school is for, actually.” “You can help with the lessons too if you want, M’s.” “I mean, obviously, that’s what I want.”

Emma opened her mouth, not entirely sure what she was going to say, but sure it was going to be something good and she was only a little disappointed when nothing came out. Her teeth clicked when she snapped her jaw again, another crack she didn’t entirely appreciate.

Ruby arched an eyebrow. “You freaking out yet?”

“No,” Emma lied.

“That was awful. Really. Like. As bad as it could possibly have been.”

“Yeah, well, you’re apparently staging math lessons with my kid in secret, so--”

“--So, that is not even remotely the same thing. You know it’s going to be fine. He’s probably going to hat trick.” “Please don’t,” Emma started, but it was already too late and Matt’s shouts were very likely doing damage to the paint in the locker room. And their eardrums.

Ruby winced, every single one of her teeth on display as she and Mary Margaret both tried to quiet the almost five-year-old kid who was actually jumping up and down with excitement.

And Killian would probably score a hat trick.

Just to prove a goddamn point.

Or inspire a slightly more creative New York Post headline.

There were more footsteps coming around the doorway, a flash of blue and far-too-long curls and Emma was still a little surprised how tall Henry was every single time she saw him. It wasn’t his birthday yet either.

David was the worst lookout in the history of the world.

“Hey,” Roland said. “We heard yelling. What’s going on?” “What are you guys doing down here?” Emma asked. “Shouldn’t you be outside?” “It’s raining. And we were waiting for you guys. Mer said you were here and we kind of wanted food.” “There’s food outside.” Roland muttered ehhh and Henry didn’t quite swat at his shoulder, but it was pretty close, knees barely buckling when Matt slammed into his side. The kid was never going to stop shouting about hat tricks now. “There’s definitely food outside,” Henry promised. “And the tents look really good, but Mer did tell us you were here and we didn’t really want to wait in line.” “Man, you guys have got it good, don’t you?” Ruby asked knowingly, standing back up and immediately hitting her head with a balloon. “Where the hell did these even come from?” “Mom and Dad ordered ‘em,” Roland shrugged, a surprising sentence for several reasons, least of all the actual words he used, but mostly because that meant the balloons had been ordered and this plan was extensive.

“Only because it was cheaper that way,” Mary Margaret explained.

Emma nodded, fingers drifting towards her left wrist out of instinct and she flexed her hand half a dozen times when she remembered. Ruby’s smile looked vaguely predatory now. And far too knowing. Henry laughed.

“It’s going to be fine, you know that, right?” he asked.

“Don’t try and get adult with me, kid,” Emma muttered, but Ruby whispered freaking out under her breath and Mary Margaret was going to give them all detention.

Henry pressed his tongue into the corner of his mouth, running a hand through his hair – which felt like some kind of power play by the universe. “I’m not. I’m pointing out facts. Did Rubes tell you about the hat trick guarantee yet because she should have.” “You’re giving away all my secrets,” Ruby groaned. “And, before you freak out, Em, or you, mini-Jones.” Matt snapped to attention, eyes wide and a little familiar, but he’d never put that puck back in Killian's locker. “Cap did not guarantee a hat trick. That’s just--” “--Us,” Roland finished. He pulled his own puck out of his back pocket, and Emma couldn't really twist her wrists still because that still kind of hurt, but she hadn’t had a ton of time and it had been a spur of the moment decision anyway.

“How much do you get if you win?” she asked.

“A lot. Uncle Will thinks he’ll only get three points, but Hook hat tricked in a gold medal game, so this seems pretty par for the course.” “You’re mixing up your sports and clichés. Don’t let Anna hear that.” “Nah, she won’t. She was promising Kristoff we wouldn’t trash the locker room too much when we decorated.” “We?” “We all are awful at keeping secrets,” Mary Margaret said. Her eyes were glossy.

Emma hummed, mouth twisted and two different kids trying to hang off her side at the same time. She wasn’t ever going to change her shirt. “How’d you get the balloons into the Garden?” “David flashed his badge. I baked that one security guard more cookies. And both Roland and Henry promised they’d get said security guard’s granddaughter an autograph from Rook because she’s got a crush on him.”

“Does he know that?” “He’s been in media, Em,” Ruby reasoned. “Some of us are actually doing our jobs.” “Oh, low blow,” Emma muttered, but she couldn’t actually feel bad and Merida deserved the entire state of New York at this point. She glanced back at the teenager and almost grown adult in front of her – each of them decked out in head-to-toe blue and she hadn’t noticed Roland had both Robin and Killian’s number on his cheeks before.

It all felt a little full-circle.

And emotional.

Decidedly emotional.

“Anna did it,” he said, answering the question Emma hadn’t asked. Mary Margaret had lost the battle against crying. “And, uh…” “Here,” Henry finished, holding out a sheet of printer paper with half a dozen folds and one of the corners had ripped. “It’s raining. We had to take drastic measures. And we didn’t have, you know, crayons at home.” “You used crayons?” Ruby asked skeptically, Emma’s hands shaking a bit when she reached out and she knew every single person in that locker room was staring at her left wrist.

“We used markers that we just bought in the Duane Reade around the block,” Roland shrugged. “But we figured we should get in on the decorating action too.” It looked as drastic as Henry promised it was, the markers running a bit on the slightly damp paper and they’d clearly run out of room with the block letters, but the SKATE FAST was still obvious even through Emma’s slightly blurry vision.

“It’s going to be good, Emma,” Henry promised, squeezing her shoulder and smiling with a confidence she was certain sparked a small, metaphorical fire in the pit of her stomach. “Plus Rol really wants his money.” “We’ve turned you all into degenerates,” Mary Margaret sighed, but Emma was already shaking her head and they needed to get out of that locker room.

She was fairly positive one of the sticks Peggy had knocked over was broken.

“No, no, it’s nice. That’s a super lame word, huh?” “Luckily you’re not the one writing the headlines tonight,” Ruby grinned. “Hey, he know what you did yet?” Emma shook her head – met with several decidedly emotional and possibly proud looks and Ruby muttered oh this is going to be fun while Roland pulled another roll of stick tape out of Robin’s locker.

The rain wasn’t as bad as Emma had convinced herself it had to be, like the weather was being held to some kind of emotional marker, but it still took some finangling to get everyone who needed to be in the marked off section of the stands, into the marked off section of the stands and Anna could barely hold onto her phone.

“Mattie,” Emma said, doing her best to sound adult in a situation where she couldn’t bend her wrist and her walkie-talkie was definitely broken. “What did we say were the rules while you’re up here?” “No jumping, no running away from Anna, no throwing the puck.”

The last one was a recent addition – Anna’s eyebrows flying into her hair when Matt listed off the rules – and Emma nodded deftly. “That’s right. And Pegs,” she turned towards the toddler already displeased with her options of being held by either David or Mary Margaret. Whoever wasn’t holding Leo. “No trying to run anywhere, even when Dad is--”

She nearly growled when her phone buzzed in her pocket, sure it was something to do with the cars or the scheduled player arrivals and Emma wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a fan brawl happening somewhere, just to keep her on her toes.

It wasn’t any of those things.

Did you know that the Garden ceiling is the only arena ceiling in the world that’s concave. Something about better sound. So I expect good cheers tonight.

“Em,” David muttered. “You’ve got to finish your mom speech or we’re going to end up with some very frustrated two year olds here.”

Emma shook her head. Her phone buzzed again.

The first version of the Garden was built before b asketball was invented. That’s not relevant to our current sports interests, but is at least kind of interesting.

The Garden is the only venue where all four Beatles have played solo concerts. They never played here together.

The torch from the Statue of Liberty was kept on display at the Garden from 1876 to 1882.

Swan.

Swan.

Swan, you’ve got to at least acknowledge that you’re impressed by these facts, otherwise it’s no fun at all.

She didn’t quite giggle, but it was pretty damn close and David stopped yelling about responsibility when her fingers started flying over her phone screen.

The Post is probably going to use your name in a pun tomorrow morning.

Is that a fact?

You want to bet?

Emma heard the cheers before she could even come up with something witty to send back, knuckles turning white so she didn’t drop her phone. Anna took another picture.

Matt started jumping.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop.

And it wasn’t going to do much to her responsible marker, but Emma was having a difficult time focusing on anything except the smile on his face and the look in his eyes, gaze darting around the crowd like he was trying to find something and her heart possibly exploded when he found exactly what he wanted.

Killian grinned, running a hand through slightly damp hair because they couldn’t get the tents all the way to the end of the block. The city of New York, Emma was certain, was bound and determined to cause her as much frustration as possible, but any sense of that was gone as soon as her brain processed how goddamn good Killian looked in his suit.

Blue.

Obviously.

The headlines probably wouldn’t mention how he actually ran down the carpet, sure steps that put Emma’s heart back together only so it could explode again, but it was all she’d be able to think about for weeks after the season opener and the fans around them yelled when Killian moved up the stairs.

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” Emma muttered, a distinct lack of anything except swooning in the sentence.

Killian grinned wider. His eyes were incredibly distracting.

“Ah, well, I figured it was more fun to present my facts in person,” he said. He had to bend his knees to grab Matt, both arms wrapped around him and laughter lingering in the air and the rain drops and several different adults yelled be careful, Cap at him.

Emma didn’t move.

She might have blinked again.

“I think you’re trying to show off,” she said.

“That’s an absolute guarantee. How’s it going?” “It’s way too easy, honestly.” Killian laughed – normal and confident and several other very positive adjectives and Emma forgot about her walkie-talkie entirely. His eyes traced over her again, like he was taking inventory or stock and it was equal parts overwhelming and something that made more sense than nice, but his mouth opened slightly when he realized she’d never actually changed.

“Oh, that’s not even fair, Swan.” “Maybe I’m just trying to inspire or something.” “Something?” “Something,” she repeated, pulling lightly on his tie when it threatened to twist underneath Matt. “A point. Or whatever.” “One point seems kind of lame, don’t you think?” The crowd around them cheered again – phones out and cameras recording and David kept shaking his head, like he hadn’t also been part of the hat trick bet. Emma did her best not to look too impressed, honestly, she did, but Matt was shouting hat trick, hat trick, hat trick like they were the only two words he’d ever learned and both Roland and Henry were humming the goal song.

Killian did something entirely unfair with his eyebrows.

“A hat trick,” he said, not a question and they were going to cause seismic activity right there on 34th Street.

“If it’s not too much trouble, Hook,” Roland added. Whatever noise Anna made was not entirely human, Emma’s eyes widening to a size that was did more damage than her exploding heart.

Killian and David were both hysterical.

“What do you think, Swan?” he asked. “Seems reasonable, don’t you think?”

She nodded, still not entirely sure if she could remember the English language when he looked at her like that – as if he could absolutely score a hat trick based solely on emotion and feeling and want and that last one was a little out of place on the corner of 34th Street and 7th Avenue.

Or it would have been.

Once upon a time with a different set of beliefs and a different set of dreams and hopes and a distinct lack of either, but that was then and now there was a comeback and headlines and--

“Maybe just a breakaway,” Emma shrugged.

Killian’s lips twitched. “Yeah?” “Yeah. For posterity’s sake or whatever. Full circle.” “Seems rather reflective, love.” “I might be in that kind of mood.” He had to shift Matt to catch her around the forearm, fingers warm despite the distinct chill in the air and it felt like standing on Chase Bridge and balancing above center ice, but Emma’s breath didn’t catch when he kissed her.

On the goddamn corner of 34th Street and 7th Avenue.

The fans cheered again.

“A breakaway it is,” Killian said, not bothering to pull away and it was only a matter of time before Emma’s phone buzzed again because this whole thing was probably being live-streamed on the subReddit.

She didn’t know if that was possible. She did not care.

“Dad,” Matt said, twisting in Killian’s arms with one leg hitched over his hip. “Did you see your locker yet?” Emma squeezed her eyes closed, not able to keep her sigh in her body where a responsible adult would have been able to. Mary Margaret cursed softly.

“I absolutely refuse to be labeled worst secret keeper now,” Anna announced.

“He’s five, Banana. I think he gets a pass.” “No, no, Dad,” Matt argued. “Not for another sixty-one hours!”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s freaky how close it is, isn’t it?” Emma asked, and Killian nodded slowly. “Apparently there have been math classes that I’ve been unaware of and it was a whole thing, but, uh...you should see your locker. And just the general locker room.” “None of this is making much sense, Swan.” “That’s because it’s all supposed to be a surprise.” “Who’s teaching Matt birthday-based math?”

“That was a good alliteration, and Ruby. I think it’s a play in whatever war she’s consistently staging with Scarlet, but that’s only an assumption from me.” “Probably a correct one.” “Charmer.” He grinned, eyebrows twisting and turning and Emma had never thought either of those things were possible until she’d met Killian Jones, but that might have been par for the course and now she was stealing a teenager’s clichés.

“How many headlines do you think we can get if I kiss you again?” “At least five.” “Aiming low, Swan.” “Shut up,” she mumbled, reaching forward to grab the lapels of his jacket. He didn’t stumble when he moved forward, but his hand landed on her hips and it felt a bit like every inch of her was touching him and she could just make out several different whistles directed at them.

One of them was definitely Will.

It didn’t make much of a difference – Emma kissed Killian and Killian kissed Emma and they both ignored whatever it was Will was shouting from the carpet.

“Go check out your locker,” Emma said, voice shaking a bit when his mouth brushed over the curve of her jaw.

“There are several different major news outlets here,” Will called. “All of them witnessing whatever the hell it is you two are doing up there!” “Shut up, Scarlet,” Robin said. “But also we do have to acknowledge some of the fans you aren’t married to, Cap.”

Killian hummed, not moving immediately and Emma tried to keep her wrist out of his line of vision. It was a secret. Or something. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous.

“I think that’s my cue,” he muttered.

Emma nodded. “Please don’t mess up my event. And one breakaway goal.” “Done and done. Scouting report?”

Matt’s whole face lit up, and Emma had to bite her lip to make sure she didn’t embarrass herself at her own event. It didn’t take long – he wasn’t even five, but Matt knew as much about the Philadelphia Flyers as anyone who was paid to know that and most of his advice focused on screening the net and blocking the goalie and Killian nodded like he was listening to Arthur. He wouldn't have done that in front of Arthur.

“Thanks kid,” he said as soon as Matt ran out of facts and oxygen. “Don’t jump here, ok, Mattie?” Matt froze, several other shutter snaps echoing around them, and Killian made a face at Peggy before he jogged back down the steps and signed a few autographs and Emma’s phone buzzed, right on cue, as soon as they set foot in the team suite.

I couldn’t have done any of it without you.

Emma bit her lip again.

By her, admittedly, unofficial count, Arthur had smashed four whiteboards in the first two periods, pacing in the back of the bench with an expression that likely could have turned several humans to actual stone.

They weren’t even losing. They were tied, but there were only twenty minutes left and they hadn’t really looked great yet and there was something to be said for season-opening jitters.

Mary Margaret used that word.

Emma couldn’t really talk.

She kept walking, tracing the same semicircle around the same chair in the team suite while several different pairs of eyes flitted her direction once every ten seconds.

To her credit, she hadn’t actually gasped the first time Killian got hit – slammed into the boards at the far end of the ice, which, as David was quick to point out, was probably for the best because Emma wasn’t sure what she’d have done if it had closer to them. Probably just fallen over or something.

“You’re going to do damage to your hamstrings,” David muttered, a wry smile on his face when he twisted in his own chair. He couldn't move much more. Both Peggy and Leo were on top of them and Leo had fallen asleep at some point in the second period, but Peggy seemed fascinated by the whole game and Emma was going to brag about that for at least the first month of the season.

“I don’t think that’s how the human body works,” Emma argued.

“Ah, that may be true. Don’t your feet hurt though?” “I haven’t really thought about that, honestly.” David nodded. “Yeah, that’s almost too obvious.” “Then you should not be asking questions you already know the answer to and let me continue pacing out a hole in this ugly carpet.” “It’s a coping device,” Mary Margaret reasoned. She hadn’t sat down since five minutes into the first, screaming a string of insults that definitely got more pointed with each season and Emma only paused pacing long enough in the second to record a snippet and sent to Ruby.

Her answering ha had lasted for several scrolls of text message.

Anna had her phone out as well - panning around the room until Liam inevitably started yelling about focusing on the ice and Regina kept pointing out that they could watch it on TV. “It’s delayed for us though,” Liam sighed.

“He’s really the most impatient person in the world,” Elsa added. “But seriously, Anna, on the ice and only the ice.” Anna groaned. “You guys are boring. I’m trying to give you the insider’s view.” “They don’t really need that,” Emma said. She swung her leg out when she rounded another corner, keeping her eyes trained on her feet so she wouldn’t lose her balance.

“Boring. Boring. Boring.” “They’ve got to score again, eventually, right?” Mary Margaret asked. Henry shook his head. “The Flyers are big on--” “--Shot blocking,” Matt yelled, and every single head in the entire team suite snapped towards him. His ears didn’t turn red, exactly, but he looked a little stunned and a little embarrassed and Emma had to stop pacing when he ran back towards her.

He wrapped both his arms around her waist, burying his head into her t-shirt and both Vankald sisters aw’ed in tandem. “They practiced that when they were kids,” Liam said, but he sounded a little proud too.

“How’d you know that, Mattie?” Emma asked. She pulled him with her when she moved closer to the windows, standing next to Mary Margaret in spots that she was sure, eventually, would just have their footprints embedded in the carpet.

That carpet was so ugly.

“Dad and me watched the game from last year. Vestrov...Vestrovs…” “Vestrovsky,” Roland finished. He dropped onto the exceptionally ugly carpet on Emma’s other side, the numbers on his cheeks a little streaky now, but Matt moved onto his legs as soon as he held his arms out. “He’s right too,” he added. “Gets in lanes and uses his legs and it’s ridiculous what he does to stop shots. The Flyers goalie should be buying him gifts after every game.” “A rather pointed opinion of the Flyers goalie.” “Not a bad team, might even threaten for a Wild Card this year, but their goalie is atrocious. I’d hate to play on a team like that.” “I think you’ve got some time.” “Never too early to scout. Ask Hook.” “I don’t need to be proved wrong on two different counts,” Emma said, brushing curls away from his eyes and earning a disgruntled noise for her efforts. Liam cursed. Loudly. In Norwegian.

And so did Anna.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she mumbled, picking her phone up from where it had fallen on the floor and Emma was glad she’d been distracted.

It wasn’t a bad hit – not by any means. It was a normal hit and a normal moment because this was professional hockey, but the replay looked worse every time they showed it on that incredibly ostentatious scoreboard and Robin was actively trying to hold Will back from slamming his fist into that guy’s face.

Killian shook his head, leaning against the Rangers bench and Emma knew, reasonably, his eyes didn’t actually flicker towards the team suite, but she wanted them too and it was almost comforting to imagine.

She glanced at Matt, not sure what she was expecting to find, but it absolutely was not a kid pounding the glass in front of him shouting two minutes like he was also the head referee. He had a very busy schedule that night – ref, coach, number one fan.

It was impressive.

“Hook better screen that goalie,” Roland mumbled, doing his best to keep Matt from jumping on his outstretched angle. “Or all that talk last season is going to be embarrassing.”

Emma laughed, a shaky, undeniably nervous sound because standing in front of the net wasn’t dangerous , but it was the first time in a long time and she needed to come up with another word for fine.

“C’mere, babe,” she said, pulling Peggy away from David and muttering a string of nonsense in her daughter’s ear that was as much for her developmental growth as it was for Emma’s third period sanity. “You think we’re going to score? You think Dad’s going to score? We going to let that guy block all our shot attempts?” “Vestrovsky,” Henry repeated.

“Yeah, I really don’t care.” He grinned, nose scrunched and hand back in his hair and neither of them mentioned how nervous they both obviously were. Regina had taken up Emma’s pacing.

It took, exactly, forty-seven seconds, two rather obnoxious whistles and one faceoff win in the zone.

She didn’t blink. Didn’t know if she was breathing, really. But her arms didn’t threaten to strangle her own kid, so anything else felt like a victory.

Which is what they got. 

Robin won the faceoff, pushing the puck back towards Will who was still planting himself on the edge of the circle like he believed he was the offensive threat he absolutely was, and there was a collective gasp from all of them, including the two in Colorado, as soon as he pulled his stick back.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Emma mumbled. She clearly was not above begging the universe.

But the universe was, sometimes, a bit of a dick and consistently liked to surprise her and Vestrovsky couldn't block Will’s shot without threatening to break his own leg. And Killian was very good at screening the goalie.

He kept his stick on the ice, battling for position against two Philadelphia jerseys and Emma wasn’t sure he’d actually tipped the puck into the net until both Matt and Roland yelled “Dad” and “Hook” at the same time.

Figured.

Liam cursed again. In English.

Emma got some fairly good air on her jump, Peggy yelling and David screaming and Mary Margaret kept sniffling, a far cry from the vaguely ruthless cheers she’d been dishing out at puck drop.

“Goal, goal, goal, goal, goal,” Peggy chanted, an impressive show of context clues and they were obviously the best parents in the history of several different universes.

Emma was absolutely crying too.

All things considered, she thought that was fair, the cheering in the suite nothing compared to the cheering in the stands and the celebration on the ice, a rush of blue jerseys and discarded sticks and someone had lost one of their gloves.

It was probably Will.

But none of it mattered when Killian celebrated the same way he celebrated every single goal, arms wide and mouth wider and Emma was sure she could hear it in her soul or something equally absurd. She was going to cry for the first week of the season, at least.

Totally reasonable.

The entire goddamn Garden sang the goal song even after the next faceoff, chanting and shouting and they were going to buy frames for all the inevitable headlines the next morning.

“We did it,” Emma mumbled, pressing the words to Peggy’s shoulders and kissing across her face as Matt recounted the goal until the final buzzer went off.

She did, still, have a job to do and Merida was going to wind up being President by the end of it all, but Emma made it through the to-do-list and only kind of ran to the locker room, slightly frustrated by how out of breath she was at the end of it.

Emma spun on the spot, looking for someone or an assistant coach or possibly Kristoff so she could apologize for what they’d done to the locker room. There wasn’t anyone. At least not at first and it was a testament to the sound of her own pulse hammering in her ears that she didn’t hear his footsteps. “Swan?”

Emma turned again, nearly dislocating both her ankles in the process, and it was good neither of them were holding anything.

She basically launched herself at him.

Killian didn’t stumble backwards, didn’t even flinch or grunt or do anything except wrap his arms around her and pull her flush against his chest and neither one of them did anything except hold onto the other.

A little desperately.

They stood there for days or weeks or the rest of the goddamn season, gripping t-shirts and ignoring the water dripping from the ends of Killian’s hair because he’d totally just gotten out of the shower and probably had media to deal with, but he also had some kind of absurd sixth-sense when it came to Emma and she was going to be selfish for, like, at least five minutes.

Possibly six.

Maybe a round ten.

She really wanted to sneak out of the Garden.

Emma squeezed her arms tighter, fisting the back of his shirt while his fingers traced light patterns over her spine and the name plastered across her. She closed her eyes, trying to force the moment into every single corner of her memory and she refused to ever be held accountable for the absolute romantic drivel that seemed to just fall out of her as soon as she felt his lips brush over her temple.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she muttered, pushing up on her toes like being closer to his actual face would make the words mean more. Or like she wanted to make sure she saw his inevitable smile as soon as he processed the words.

Either or, really.

All of it was moot, though, as soon as he bent his knees and her feet weren’t touching the floor anymore, arms slung over his shoulders and fingers carding through his hair and not kissing felt decidedly absurd. She felt his smile anyway.

They’d done this more times than she could count – hallways and those dark corners and their own goddamn bedroom and several dozen NHL arenas – but Emma was sure something flipped in that moment or turned back on and she was running out of energy puns rather quickly.

That was for the best.

Killian tilted his head slightly, tongue moving over her lower lip and fingers drifting dangerously under her shirt. Her toes dragged over the ground, but he didn’t let her back down and certainly didn’t let her fall, another cliché that felt a bit more like a guarantee.

“I love you too,” he whispered, dragging his lips back towards her neck and leaving open-mouthed kisses just behind her ear. “Wasn’t a breakaway though.” “I could not possibly care about that less.” “That’s rather sweeping, love.” “Yeah, I’m good with that. A fan of sweeping and series and it’s only the start of the season.” “This is getting pointed.” “And heavy-handed,” Emma agreed, appreciating whatever he did with his face when she laughed against him. “Plus another rather impressive display of upper-body strengths.” “She’s got to get the genetics from somewhere, right?” “Is that you suggesting I don’t have upper-body strength?” Killian shook his head, another quick kiss that evolved into a much longer kiss and they needed to move out of the middle of the hallway. If only so Emma could remember what gravity felt like. She seemed to have lost it somewhere in the middle of the winning and the screaming kids and the making out.

Mostly the making out.

“I’ve got all the belief in your upper-body strength, Swan,” Killian promised. “A little less in mine after seventeen minutes of ice time, but--” “--Why do you have that memorized?” “Don’t you?” “Obviously,” she said, swatting at his shoulder and rolling her eyes when he caught her around the wrist. “But I had to look at box scores for the site and the season tickets and...what?”

He didn’t blink, clearly breathing through his mouth when the one hand that was still, somehow, under her shirt stilled. Emma gritted her teeth.

And resolutely refused to look at him.

Her balance wasn’t perfect when Killian let her fall back to the ground, twisting against him in a way that, if he weren’t so busy staring at her left wrist, probably would have been way more distracting.

“Surprise,” Emma mumbled, waving her free hand through the air. Killian didn’t let go of her other one.

“Wasn’t that my locker? And...everyone else’s locker?” “That second part was a spur of the moment decision, really. Mostly because Rol and Herny’s sign was a spur of the moment decision and we figured it was the start of a new season and everyone else needed some balloons too.” “How’d you get the balloons into the Garden?” “There was cookie bribery involved.” “Ah, naturally.” Emma nodded, chewing on her lip when he didn’t say anything else and he was going to make her tell him. Stubborn ass. “There was a reason I didn’t have a sign too,” she started. “Although I do think Matt and Pegs would have been very angry if I stepped on their moment.” “Literally in some sign cases,” Killian grinned. He glanced up at her, staring from underneath his eyelashes and, honestly, the universe could suck it. That was absurd.

There was still a bandage on her wrist.

Emma might have been the worst at surprises. That was a disappointing discovery to make in the hallway.

“I think Peg’s going to start running marathons soon.” Killian chuckled, eyes flashing back to her wrist and his thumb had started moving at some point – right where Emma’s laces should have been. “She and I can start offseason training in Riverside Park.” “You say that like you’re not already plotting running routes right now in your head.”

He nodded, a smirk that was, at least partially, the reason for this whole preposterous, ridiculously romantic moment. “Where are your laces, Swan?” “You know that guy on Astor Place remembered me? From the first Cup and matching sets. He asked if I brought any champagne with me.” “Did you?” “Not this time.” “Maybe eventually though.” “Definitely.” “That confidence,” Killian muttered, a note of something that may have been all the reason behind the moment and Emma didn’t think before she pulled back the the edge of the bandage on her skin.

He didn’t say anything immediately, but she could see the muscles in his throat move when he swallowed and his shoulders dropped a bit when he exhaled, like he was getting rid of the weight of several different worlds.

It wasn’t really very big – partially because she was an enormous wimp and partially because she didn’t have time for anything more, but the numbers would be clear even if someone wasn’t looking for them. And even when she, eventually, put her laces back on her wrist.

“Something, something, I really like being able to make you kind of lose your head when I wear your number,” Emma said, thankful to the universe she’d been so intent on cursing earlier that her voice didn’t shake over the words.

Killian’s head snapped up, air rushing out of him and eyes frustratingly blue and there were, exactly, three droplets of water on his right temple. He didn’t try to brush them away. He just kept staring at Emma and she knew she was blushing, but she didn’t blink either, might have even tried to smile and it was all for naught when his lips crashed against hers.

His mumbled I love you felt like it moved into her as soon as he kissed her and it was a ludicrous thought, but Emma had gotten his goddamn number tattooed on her wrist, so she figured it was a reasonable thought in the moment.

And, really, this making out was better than the last one.

She pressed back on her toes, hands with minds of their own and wants of their own and Killian did groan when her hips canted up. They stumbled backwards or forwards and direction didn't matter when Emma’s shoulders collided with the nearest wall, laughing and happy and so incredibly confident she was certain she was made of it.

“It totally worked,” Killian said, another breathless promise in between kisses. There were a questionable number of kisses, and neither one of them heard the coughs or the scoffs or the camera shutters.

They weren’t really trying to hide, anyway.

They’d always been painfully bad at that.

They did, however, notice the two kids yelling their name and running into their bodies and yanking on clothing, neither one of them all that impressed with their parents’ propensity to making out in hallways.

“Goal,” Peggy shouted again, Killian’s eyes getting even wider and Emma shrugged. “I think we’re harping a little, but it’s impressive diction.” “Seriously,” he muttered, bending down to haul her against his side. “That was really good, Pegs. We’ll work on power play next, ok?” Emma scoffed, letting her head fall forward and he’d totally blown off media for this. “That seems like kind of a reach, don’t you think?” “Nah, parents of the year or decade or whatever.” “Decade, for sure.”

“That’s awfully presumptuous, isn’t it?” Robin asked, walking down the hallway with an arm around Roland’s shoulders and Henry a few steps behind. “You going to go back to media, Cap or you just going to suffer Lucas’ wrath later?” “I’ve got no plans to see Lucas, at all later, so that’s totally fine with me.” “Eh,” Emma objected. Matt was trying to talk about the goal again, clearly unimpressed by his sister’s speech patterns if it meant he wasn’t the sole focus of everyone’s attention. “There was apparently kind of a plan.” “And way more balloons uptown,” Will added. They were all, apparently, blowing off media.

“Do we know some kind of balloon supplier?” Killian asked.

“See, you make fun, but I’m fairly positive Gina does and probably glared at them until they gave her some kind of discount rate. Also Anna and Ariel spent a very long time decorating the restaurant today, the least you could do is not be a complete jerk about it.” “Complete jerk, huh?” “There are children present, Cap. Who just witnessed you and Em doing whatever it was you were doing.” “Making out,” Emma said, shrugging again when Will audibly gagged. “Go find your girlfriend, Scarlet.” “That’s what I was trying to do. Because I answered media questions. Because I am the most responsible athlete on this team and I would like the record to show that Cap’s very impressive, emotional goal would not have been possible without me.” “And you wouldn't have taken it if Cap didn’t tell you to get off the blue line last season,” Robin said.

“It was a really good goal,” Matt yelled, bobbing on the balls of his feet again and Emma took Peggy before he could jump at both her and Killian.

“That was only because I got a fantastic scouting report,” Killian grinned. He ignored the several pointed objections around him when he hauled Matt over his shoulder, winking at Emma. “We’ll watch it again later, ok?” “Can’t we do it tonight?”

“Somehow I doubt you’ll be awake that long.” “No!” “We’ll see, kid.” “Can we bet on it?” Will almost fell over. Henry and Roland both appeared to be choking on air.

“Why don’t we wait until after we eat for any money to exchange hands, ok, Mattie?” Emma asked, getting a grumbled agreement that was difficult to understand when spoken into Killian’s shoulder.

“You guys are a picture of responsibility,” Will laughed. “Seriously, Scarlet. Your girlfriend. Or a cab.” “That’s rude, Em. You wound me.” She rolled her eyes, but she was way too happy to actually be annoyed and Matt was talking a mile a minute again. “What did you do?” Emma asked.

Killian winked again. “We’re going to go answer some questions, Swan. That’s all. Five minutes, tops and then we’re spending less than an hour in this restaurant. Deal?” “Deal.” They spent three hours in the restaurant, but only because they kept laughing and posing for pictures and there were FaceTime phone calls to make and goals to reenact and Matt split an entire plate of onion rings with Emma before he, Roland and Henry fell asleep in one booth.

Anna took a picture of it.

And it was probably somewhere close to one in the morning when Emma felt her own eyelids fluttering, head lolling against Killian’s shoulder. Peggy had fallen asleep in the car uptown.

“You ready to go, love?” he asked softly, fingers brushing over the curve of her arm and back towards the side of her wrist.

“Yeah,” Emma whispered. “Let’s go home.”

[theincompetentgenius]

Hello! Can i have a “life generator” for the arcana please? :) I’m a bi 5’9 girl with curly brown hair and hazel eyes. I’m antisocial, and closed off to most people. I have a sarcastic and dirty sense of humor, and i’m childish. I love to playfully tease people. I’m a gryffindor, and quite stubborn. I get jealous easily. I LOVE animals. My hobbies are shopping, singing/piano, and archery. I’m a tomboy, and i live in hoodies. I’m honestly pretty touch starved. Thanks in advance!!

Thank you for being my first request! It took a lot longer than I expected, but I still had lots of fun doing this. I also realized how garbage my writing has become and how I lack any creativity, but that’s another issue for another time.

Thank you for your interest in the world of The Arcana! In a few moments, you will be reborn.  Loading simulation in 3 …… 2…… 1……..

B A C K G R O U N D

You were born into a wealthy family where the pressures of society were the laws of the house. Your father was attempting the climb the unspoken social latter of Vesvusia and he could not risk having his children act out of line. Fortunately, he was constantly out mingling with the high-tiers, leaving you with eons of freedom. Your mother attempted to teach you the ways of a lady, but it was not long before you turned away from the pink ribbons and ran towards the bow and arrow. She soon came to accept your differences, but you did learn to enjoy certain aspects of being a lady. However, your father soon learned of your rather rebellious behavior and sent you to a center to become more ladylike. Although you despised the suffocating corsets and endless sewing, your piano and singing lessons kept you from falling apart.

F R I E N D S  

Nadia, Navra, Nazali

As time passed, you had become one of the top pianists and vocalist in the entire community. What baffled the people was that you would only perform in a black tunic: a sign of protest against the center’s practices. The contrast in your talent and personality attracted a large audience, curious to see what you had to offer. One day, you had woken up to see the entire room emptied of its people. Gold ornaments and red carpets stood in their place. You were quickly notified that a few of the Satrinava sisters were coming to visit and your instructor wanted you to play for them. Not only were you nervous about playing in front of royal, but you were also worried about their judgy eyes analyzing your outlandish appearance. You even contemplated wearing a pink, puffy ballgown, but you chose to stay true to yourself and prepared for the event.”

“The three sisters strolled into the building, their presence more illuminating than the chandelier above your head. Once they were seated, you did not waste time with formal introductions. The audience of three listened in silence as your fingers danced on the piano keys and your voice soared across the room. You sang about your woes within the center, yearning for an ounce of freedom. Had you looked across the room, you would have noticed the wet film of their eyes. After your performance, Navra to you and grabbed your hand.

“That was the most beautiful I’ve ever heard in my life! You must play for me at my parties.” The strength of her handshake nearly ripped you apart.

“Leave the poor girl alone. You don’t want to scare her away already,” Nazali pulled her back.

Amid their bickering, you heard a cool voice from behind. “Do you feel imprisoned trying to live the life of a lady?” You spun around and saw a pair of red eyes staring back at you.

The blunt and sudden nature of the question had caught you off-guard. You had no intention of angering the princesses, but your tongue would not allow you to conform to their ways. The room went silent as the other sisters stopped their arguing and turned towards you. They were waiting for your answer.

“Yes,” You said.

The sisters exchanged glances. The pink-haired sister took the moment of silence to formally introduced herself as Nadia Satrinava, the youngest of the sisters. You curtsied in return, but her next question nearly knocked you off your feet.

“Would you like to perform at my palace? Where you are free to live as you like?”

Other friends: Portia, Mazelinka

R O M A N C E

As the royal musician, you were forced to interact with individuals who you would rather avoid after every show in the palace. Years had gone by and the only person you didn’t want to thrash was Portia. The rest were snobby, misogynistic, or outright stupid. However, there was one gem you had met during this time.

You had finished a romantic ballad for a smaller crowd that day. Nadia had asked you to perform as a part of her appreciation banquet to those working against the Red Plague. As you prepared to retire to your room, a young man with copper hair and an eye-patch appeared by your side.

“What a marvelous performance! Your voice is almost as beautiful as you.” A devilish grin was plastered over his face. It seemed more slappable than most. “Excuse me, where are my manners? My name is Dr. Julian Dovarak.“

“Sir, I’d like to know how you got past security,” Your voice was stone.

“That’s just one of my many talents. Let me tell you about how I nearly decapitated a monster with simply a bow and arrow.” You began to tune him out instinctively, yet you couldn’t ignore the charisma exuding from him. As he droned on, you decided to give him a chance. It was a matter of time before you were laughing in his tales. Dramatic, but entertaining.

“I liked your story, but I’m still calling security. You did invade my privacy after all,” You said.

He put his hands in the air. “There’s no need for that. I simply thought you enjoyed my company, but I may have misread the situation. I’ll be on my way.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I did enjoy your company. It’s just…. I could have it elsewhere. Especially since you seem to have no problem sneaking up on me when I’m alone”

It took him a moment to register the joke as he responded with confused laughter. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide and his cheeks were crimson. His confidence crumbled. There was nothing left of the old Julian; only a stuttering mess. You felt the muscles of your face pull an upward grin as laughter bubbled in your stomach. Never had you met someone so bold yet so flustered. So much for his bravado.

“I’m just teasing you. I wouldn’t call security on you, because you’re not as irritating as everyone else.” You laughed as he attempted to pull himself together.

He cleared his throat, prompting the return of his mischievous grin. “I’m flattered. Of course, if you would like a more private encounter, that can always be arranged.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

F I N A L   F A T E

When the first round of accusations against Julian came around, you could not believe them. The man who had become so dear to you could not have committed murder. You weren’t sure what the details were, but your instincts told you that there was more to the story.  However, it was impossible to find reliable answers when Julian had fled the city and the only witness was Consul Valerius. You wanted to search for him, but Portia held you back.

"Chasing him will only bring you more danger.”

Although you wanted to pack your bags and take the first ship to Julian’s location, you knew it was unreasonable and irrational. During Julian’s disappearance, your relationship with Portia grew stronger. The two of you would reminisce about the good times and the best of Julian’s embarrassing moments. Soon, the two of you were able to move past Julian and make terrific memories on your own. Life began to move smoothly again. The two of you spent lots of time running errands. After a few witty exchanges, you found yourself on the floor with tears in your eyes. Portia would clutch her stomach from all the laughter. Sometimes you felt that the two of you had become delirious, but no one ever enjoyed life by staying sane.  

Yet one fateful day, you saw a flash of red and black zoom behind you. At first, you thought nothing of it. Probably some guards chasing after a thief or a child playing a game. However, the figure had stopped and you dropped your groceries. The infamous Dr. Dovarak was standing in front of you.

“Julian?”

Against your better nature, you ran after him. You already lost him once, you weren’t about to lose him again. But once you arrived at his spot, he had disappeared. You kicked the loose rubble beside you out of frustration. Your eyes had not been playing tricks on you; that was Julian. You went back to Portia and told her everything that you had seen. At first, she assumed you were messing around. However, she became uncertain as she saw the pleading look in your eyes.

That was not the last time you had seen the doctor. Your paths had crossed again when you walked into a rowdy tavern after a long day. All you wanted was a refreshing drink and some time away from the palace. Lost in your thoughts, you sat in the nearest booth and took a sip of your mug.  You nearly spat it out when you looked to your right.

“What are you doing here?”

You were face-to-face with the man who you had been searching for all this time. But now that he was in front of you, there was something off about him. He seemed tired.

“Hello darling, long time no see. How is life? I’m sure it must be dandy without me.” He flashed his famous grin that you had come to love.  A rush of anger seared in your stomach. The man had been missing for nearly three years, yet he acted as if his absence was a mere joke. Did he not realize the pain he had caused for you and his sister was unrepairable?

“No. Don’t play this game with me.” You gripped his wrist and demanded that he tell the truth. His smiley facade disappeared and he turned away. There was no way from him to explain that he had lost his memory without sounding insane or incriminating. All he could do was play the role of the villain.  

But you were not giving up so quickly. Although you couldn’t get Julian to give you the information you wanted, the two of you began to meet more often (despite the risk of Julian getting caught). As he worked through his layers of problems, you stood by his side and helped lighten his darker days

You notified Nadia that you were no longer going to play for the palace and packed your bags, joining Julian in his quest to clear his name and learn the truth about Lucio’s murder. During this time, Julian was able to look past his fears and learned to confide in you. It was not long before you two had declared your love for each other and secured a relationship.

After Julian’s name had been cleared and the second wave of the Red Plague disappeared, the two of you decided to become pirates. After the drama in Vesuvia died down, Julian was craving some form of adventure. He asked you to come along with him as he could not see himself doing anything without your support. Although you were unsure of the chaos the new lifestyle would bring, you decided to join him. Julian bought a new boat while you recruited crewmates to keep the ship running smoothly. It was not long before you and Julian set out for the seas, enjoying the wild adventures each day would bring.

T H E   E N D

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, November 30

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: The Kennedy family torn apart 

Page 2: Angry and isolated Caitlyn Jenner is on a downward emotional spiral that some friends believe have left her one step from the psycho ward -- she feels shunned by her own family and can’t find romance and is unhappy with with her looks -- Caitlyn is so tense and insecure and sensitive about everything so she’s diving into more and more prospective projects in a desperate effort to kickstart her flagging career and she’s flying off the handle all the time plus she’s tried to drown her sorrows in a new round of cosmetic improvements including a face-lift and lipo to trim her waist and thighs but she’s horrified she’s still not happy with her looks after all her surgeries 

Page 3: Lovestruck Halle Berry has leapt headfirst into a red-hot romance with Van Hunt but the singer is a skirt-chasing cheat -- Van and his ex-wife split in 2007 after she said he abandoned her and their only child to move to L.A. and she claimed the musician admitted adultery shortly before divorce documents were filed -- Halle would be disturbed to hear that Van walked out on his son because she’s a very family-oriented person and she could never imagine living on the other side of the country to her kids -- Van’s grown and matured since the divorce and is sure to have shared all about his situation with Halle and he’s said to be on good terms with his ex-wife but people say once a cheater always a cheater and that’s got to be at the back of Halle’s mind 

Page 4: Runaway Prince Harry is reeling after being publicly snubbed by his royal relatives and now he is having second thoughts about ditching his official duties for a glam life in Hollywood; he’s finally realizing just what he gave up when he left England with wife Meghan Markle and their son Archie and he’s wondering if it was worth it -- the simmering rift between Harry and the royals exploded after they refused his request to be part of Britain’s Remembrance Day ceremonies to honor fallen soldiers so Harry retaliated by staging a photo op at Los Angeles National Cemetery with Meghan with his military medals pinned on his navy suit; Harry was banned from wearing his military uniform when he quit royal duties and he also had to give up his military duties which devastated him -- photos from the cemetery released by the couple triggered an immediate backlash and they were accused of being shameless publicity-seekers trying to steal headlines and overshadow the royals doing their duty back home; it was a disaster and Harry was shocked -- he’s reaching out to the palace to make amends but calls to his brother Prince William and father Prince Charles have gone unanswered

* Katie Holmes and Emilio Vitolo Jr.’s hot new romance is in a pressure cooker as their families fight to claim the couple as their guests for the holidays -- things were going great for them but this tug-of-war may tear them apart because Emilio’s folks told him they want him home with them but Katie is desperate to spend Christmas with her relatives in Ohio and they really want to meet her new boyfriend and Katie is feeling guilty because she spends so much time with Emilio’s clan at his dad’s Manhattan eatery so she thinks it’s only fair that he does this for her but Emilio’s never missed a holiday gathering with his own family and there are a lot of them he hasn’t seen because of the pandemic 

Page 5: Celine Dion is finally ready to put the past behind her as the fifth anniversary of her beloved husband’s death approaches in January and she is planning to leave Las Vegas with their sons and she is pining to return to her native Quebec and give twins Nelson and Eddy and 19-year-old Rene-Charles a taste of her own childhood -- Celine had been careful to not upset her kids’ lives since the death of their dad from throat cancer but she now believes the boys would benefit from spending time in The Great White North -- she also thinks it might be more likely she’ll find lasting love in her home country 

Page 6: Defiantly plump Lizzo has ditched her diet and frightened friends are staging an intervention to get her to a fat farm to save her life -- Lizzo had committed to eating vegan after weighing in at 350 pounds but once on vacation it lasted like two days before she couldn’t take it any longer -- she has anxiety issues and uses food to comfort herself but the stress the weight is putting on her heart and other organs could have a detrimental effect on her health and cut her life short

Page 7: Mark Harmon and Pauley Perrette have agreed to meet for peace talks after a long-simmering feud triggered her angry departure from NCIS and Mark reached out to her to invite her back -- Mark feels bad about how Pauley left the show and knows she played a big role in its success and he’s anxious to set things right between them and bring back one of the show’s favorite all-time characters for fans -- Mark also feels he’s been painted unfairly in Pauley’s departure and would like to know he was not behind it but the two clashed for years with Pauley charging Mark’s bullying caused her to quit the show and Pauley even tweeted she is terrified of Harmon and him attacking her -- while Pauley is not saying yes or no to returning to the show she’s definitely willing to sit down and talk 

* The drama between sickly Phil Collins and his squatting ex-wife Orianne Cevey is really getting down and dirty with Orianne charging that Phil degenerated into a pill-popping addict who stopped showering and brushing his teeth and was impotent and she also claimed Phil became emotionally and verbally abusive and refused to provide emotional support or love or care for her -- Phil’s lawyers said Orianne’s charges are scandalous and scurrilous and unethical and for the most part patently false or grossly exaggerated

Page 8: Power-hungry host Savannah Guthrie is gunning to be the reigning queen of Today and is willing to walk over anyone to achieve her goal and her blind ambition is ripping the once-invincible morning show apart and she even used Al Roker’s prostate cancer diagnosis to push her own agenda and capitalize on Al’s absence for surgery to demand more airtime for herself -- every meeting starts with the focus on whatever Savannah wants and the staff is far from happy about it and morale has never been worse -- Savannah has constantly pushed the producers for Jenna Bush Hager and herself to take the lead on big news stories and keep Hoda Kotb stuck in the fluffy stuff and Hoda’s completely pissed off -- Savannah’s rising star has come with temper tantrums and diva-like demands -- fed-up Hoda recently met with friends of Gayle King and there is speculation the two women could make a powerful pairing and revitalize third-place CBS This Morning 

Page 9: Regis Philbin’s death certificate reveals paramedics waged a desperate 40-minute battle to try to save his life -- he suffered a heart attack just after 3 a.m. on July 24 at his home in Connecticut and he was rushed to the emergency room where medics fought to save his life but he eventually succumbed at 4:18 a.m. 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Queen Latifah on the NYC set of The Equalizer, socially distant host Ellen DeGeneres went the extra mile to greet guest Jimmy Kimmel on her talk show, Steve Schirripa and Bridget Moynahan shot Blue Bloods in NYC, Kristen Taekman prettied up her pout in L.A., Tracy Morgan attended the ribbon-cutting ceremony for a new community center at Brooklyn’s Marcy Houses 

Page 11: Smitten ‘70s TV stars Patrick Duffy and Linda Purl may owe their late-in-life romance to Zoom but according to the actress the couple didn’t rush their relationship -- the two have been friends for decades but a COVID-19 group video chat helped spark love during lockdown -- after one of their lengthy one-on-one conversations Patrick jumped into his car and drove 20 hours from L.A. to her Colorado home like a lovestruck teenager 

* Beloved Jeopardy! host Alex Trebek left behind a final touching message for his fans and it will be extremely moving -- Alex’s final message will follow his last episode of Jeopardy! set to air on Christmas Day

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Joel Michaely at the opening of The Comeback Trail (picture)

* Kelly Clarkson’s divorce meant she booted ex Brandon Blackstock out of her professional life but he’ll still be in her work life thanks to Blake Shelton -- Brandon might not be Kelly’s manager anymore but he still manages Blake which might get awkward when Kelly runs into him backstage at The Voice

* Keeping Up with the Kardashians is notching all-time low ratings and the family is blaming Kim Kardashian saying she’s lost her sense of humor and she’s too busy trying to be taken seriously

* Nitpicky Ryan Seacrest has ditched celebrity designer Nate Berkus’ husband Jeremiah Brent as his decorator because they had a nasty falling out over the renovation of Ryan’s townhouse in New York City 

Page 13: Steve Harvey’s daughter Lori Harvey escaped jail time after cops claimed she fled the scene of a Beverly Hills car crash in 2019 -- she was charged with two misdemeanors for hit-and-run and delaying a police investigation after she walked away from a smashup that damaged her Mercedes G-wagon and nearly destroyed another vehicle but she cut a deal with prosecutors and pleaded no contest to resisting arrest and will serve two years probation -- she reportedly had been texting at the time of the accident 

* Reba McEntire confirmed she turned down a regular role on The Voice which left the life-changing gig open for Blake Shelton -- Reba said she didn’t think she could ever tell somebody that they’re terrible 

* Cancer warrior Olivia Newton-John revealed she kicked a dependence on morphine with medical marijuana -- to cope with her pain during her third bout with breast cancer that had spread in 2017 doctors put her on mega doses of the highly addictive drug and she weaned herself off the morphine with the cannabis which she thinks is incredible and says people should know that because you’re not going to die from cannabis and you can use it to wean off morphine and she’s continued on a regime with cannabis ever since 

Page 14: Crime 

Page 15: Los Angeles’ newly elected District Attorney George Gascon has vowed to reopen the probe into actress Natalie Wood’s mysterious drowning and her husband Robert Wagner could finally be dragged before a grand jury -- Gascon said he’ll work with investigators from the L.A. Sheriff’s Department homicide squad to reexamine the case after the previous D.A. refused to present evidence to a grand jury -- Natalie drowned in 1981 while enjoying a holiday with Robert and actor Christopher Walken off Catalina Island 

Page 16: The Talk has been thrown into chaos by cast shake-ups and co-host Sharon Osbourne’s power grab and may be on the verge of being silenced forever -- staffers are expecting the worst after popular co-host Eve announced she was splitting after four seasons becoming the latest in a long line of damaging departures and while Eve blamed her exit on COVID-19 travel restrictions from England much of the blame goes to self-promotional Sharon’s relentless efforts to take over the show after former moderator Julie Chen’s departure last year -- Sharon has made it clear she’s in charge now and the other ladies are not thrilled with being reduced to supporting cast and fans have started calling for Sharon’s head 

Page 17: John Lennon’s widow Yoko Ono has sparked fears she’s nearing the end after handing her business dealings off to their son Sean Lennon -- the wheelchair-bound Yoko had been managing the late Beatle’s vast $800 million holdings since his 1980 shooting death but it’s now beyond her abilities

Page 18: American Life 

Page 19: Johnny Depp is writing and planning to star in a tell-all movie about his divorce war with loathed ex-wife Amber Heard -- after a U.K. court ruled he was physically abusive toward Amber during their marriage Johnny wants to tell the world his version of the marriage and he will set people straight about what happened and clear his name to millions to fans and he believes this is a slam dunk once he gets it in front of the right producer especially as he’s more than willing to play himself 

* The family of vicious Boston mobster James “Whitey” Bulger has filed a lawsuit against the federal government accusing prison officials of orchestrating the 2018 hit on the Mob boss -- the action accuses the Federal Bureau of Prisons of intentional or deliberately indifferent deeds that led to the murder of the wheelchair-bound mobster just hours after he was inexplicably transferred to the Hazelton penitentiary in West Virginia where he was beaten to death by prisoners to keep him from singing about corruption inside the FBI and the Department of Justice -- Whitey was bludgeoned with a padlock stuffed inside a sock and his murderers had enough time to cut out his tongue and eyes to make it seem like a classic Mafia hit 

Page 20: Angelina Jolie lives in constant fear one of her six children will be kidnapped and held for ransom according to her former bodyguard -- Angie and her ex Brad Pitt are worth hundreds of millions which Angie feared provided plenty of incentive for criminals to target her offspring

* Hollywood Hookups -- Sofia Richie and Matthew Morton dating, Sabrina Parr and Lamar Odom split, Daniela Rajic and Paul George engaged

Page 21: Justin Bieber’s pastor Carl Lentz lost his job over a steamy affair with an exotic beauty -- Lentz was fired from the megachurch Hillsong and his mistress claimed the two were in love 

* Wildlife lover Bindi Irwin has announced 20 weeks into pregnancy her baby is the size of a tiny emu -- she delivered the news flash beneath a photo with her husband Chandler Powell appropriately taken at the Australia Zoo

* Hugh Grant made a bizarre confession admitting his bout with COVID-19 left him wanting to sniff strangers’ armpits -- Hugh revealed he tested positive for coronavirus antibodies and believes he contracted the bug in February and the illness caused a feeling of an enormous man sitting on his chest but Hugh also claimed he was rattled by losing his sense of smell which is a known symptom of the disease and purposely sought out putrid odors to test his useless nose 

Page 22: Jailed Ghislaine Maxwell’s latest devastating court defeat has heightened fears that the woman accused of being billionaire sex fiend Jeffrey Epstein’s madam will die behind bars just as he did -- since July Maxwell has been locked up in solitary confinement at Brooklyn’s Metropolitan Detention Center where her jailers subject her to daily strip and cell searches and is monitored 24 hours a day she doesn’t suffer the same fate as Epstein whose death was officially ruled a suicide -- now the U.S. Court of Appeals has denied her bid to publicly name the women who have come forward in the media and civil actions as Epstein’s alleged victims and implicated the British socialite in his twisted sex ring so the damning decision upheld an earlier ruling and shattered her defense team’s bid to investigate and refute the claims of the unnamed accusers

Page 23: Tom Cruise’s plan to shoot the first movie in space may be in jeopardy after Russia vowed to beat him to it -- Tom has teamed with tech billionaire Elon Musk’s SpaceX program to film the unnamed project on the International Space Station in October 2021 -- but a rival Russian agency plans to already be in outer space by then and the Russian film is titled Challenge and its team has sent out a casting call for a female lead -- Tom sees this as a gauntlet being thrown down and he always rises to the challenge and he’s told SpaceX they have to get up there before next October

Page 28: Cover Story -- Kennedy curse rips clan apart -- the family takes sides as Michael Skakel skates and William Kennedy Smith stalls $50 million will 

Page 32: Ric Ocasek’s oldest son has blasted him as a deadbeat dad who was never there -- Chris Otcasek who uses the original spelling of the family name wrote on Instagram that his father in essence died the day he was born and he was never present and he was never there -- Ric left his mom who was his second wife Suzanne while she was pregnant with their second child 

* Lisa Marie Presley has had a medical emergency so severe it brought her bitter custody trial with fourth ex-husband Michael Lockwood to a halt 

Page 36: Health, Ask the Vet 

Page 38: Pope John Paul II was aware that disgraced and defrocked Cardinal Theodore McCarrick was a pedophile but elevated him anyway to the powerful post of Archbishop of Washington D.C. in 2001 -- McCarrick had showered over $600,000 in donations on powerful clerics including Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict while facing allegations of abuse -- Pope Francis finally defrocked McCarrick in 2019 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Mandy Moore 

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Emma Corrin as Princess Diana in The Crown 

Page 47: Odd List 

[loopy777]

‘Traitor’s Face’ Planning Doc 3

Another revision of the outline, fleshing out the rest of Act 1, with summaries of the other acts. Contains spoilers through Act 4.

UPDATED: Info on Act 5 and the Epilogue, originally REDACTED, has been restored.

How Aang affects Mai: He teaches her how to be good and care. How Aang affects Sokka: Gives him hope. How Mai affects Aang: Breaks his heart and grows him up. How Mai affects Sokka: Teaches him that the world isn't black and white. How Sokka affects Aang: Teaches her how to value family. How Sokka affects Mai: Teaches her how to mix her natural cynicism and practicality with Aang's teachings.

** Chapter 0 ** Kuruk's Folly

THE SEARCH FOR KATARA Chapter 1 Mai's family is on their way to the Southern Mining Settlement, when they crash into Aang's iceberg. Mai is there when he awakens, and Aang immediately falls in love with her. They banter before Mai realizes that Aang is an Airbender, but by then her father arrives and- realizing that Aang must be the Avatar- offers to take Aang with them so that he can recover. Mai realizes that her father is up to something, and thinks that this is perhaps something she should report to Azula.

Cut to the Settlement, where Sokka is introduced; he has just finished the work on a platinum knife that is delivered to Zhao to be presented as a gift to Mai (there's a spoon for Tom-Tom, a comb for Mother, and a scepter for Father). For his good work, Sokka is given an extra Food Token. He heads home and meets with Gran-Gran, who we see takes care of a group of abandoned half-fire children, and Sokka's extra meal tokens go towards feeding them. It's established what happened to the rest of the family, and Sokka's desire to Do Something, and that he's saving a present for Katara if/when he ever sees her, a water skin. Bato is there as well.

Sokka goes to observe the arrival of Mai's ship. Zhao greets Mai's family, while Aang is snuck off the ship to be hidden in the mansion; Father doesn't want Zhao stealing his credit. Sokka observes Aang being taken off the ship and imprisoned in the mansion, and gets Ideas. During this, Mai's Father lets something slip, and Mai realizes that Aang is the Avatar.

Mai toys with what to do with this knowledge, since Zuko is banished until he can find the Avatar. He's been out of contact for a while, though, so she decides to contact Azula.

Chapter 2 Azula meets with Ozai. He gives her something of Zuko's with his scent on it, and orders his servant Piandao to introduce Azula to June.

Mai get's Azula reply, that she's to free Aang, travel with him, and send a coded message back to Azula to arrange an ambush. The note is explicit that Mai is authorized to do whatever it takes to fulfill this mission, even if it involves working against Fire Nation interests or killing Fire Nation soldiers.

Sokka tells Gran-Gran that he's going to free the Avatar and leave the South Pole; they say goodbye. Sokka and Bato plan how to get Aang out of there, and the half-Fire kids volunteer to help.

Okay, Sokka causes an incident at the mines. Governor dispatches staff to deal with it. During the chaos, Sokka grabs a uniform and sneaks into the mansion to save Aang. Except Mai has already freed him, so Sokka bumps into them during their breakout and thanks to mistaken identity (Mai is a Fire girl with knives, Sokka is wearing a staff uniform for the mansion) he and Mai fight, but then they realize they're trying to do the same thing. (OR SHOULD SOKKA BE THE ONE TO GET TO AANG FIRST, AND HE'S THE ONE WHO TELL AANG ABOUT THE WAR BEING OVER AND BA SING SE BURNT TO THE GROUND.) They all get out, but Zhao shows up, having found out that the Governor is hiding something from him. Zhao arrests all three, but it turns out this is part of Sokka's plan, as he's the one who tipped off Zhao. After they've been taken to the Navy base, Bato does the Spirit appearance (he's a tug driver, so he has access to the base), scaring everyone. Aang and company make a break for it, and Aang leaves on the ship that Sokka steals, realizes Sokka is going to leave Appa behind, and flies back to go get him, dumbfounding Sokka and Mai. Sokka tries to turn around, and that's how Zhao's ship gets him, it crashes into him. Appa jumps on the sinking ship and takes on Sokka and Mai.

Azula and Piandao meet with June. June messes with Azula, and then they all set off to find Zuko.

Chapter 3 Sokka wakes up after dreaming about the death of his parents and Katara's kidnapping. He comes out sleep sobbing, and realizing that he can't stop, he runs into the nearby woods to hide it. Before he finishes, he looks over and sees Mai passing by. She looks at him, and then walks away without a word. Later, after Sokka has rejoined the group, Mai pretends that she didn't see anything and greets him as they she's seeing him for the first time that morning.

After breakfast, they all practice their fighting styles. While Aang practices his Airbending, Sokka and Mai are sparring. Sokka has little-to-no fighting experience, as Tribals weren't allowed to have weapons, so he's been on her to show him a few tricks. Mai is aware that she probably shouldn't, according to her upbringing, but it amuses her, so she's indulging. The trio get to talking, and it comes out that they should start making plans. Sokka wants to go find Katara, Mai is trying to figure out how to lead people into a trap, and Aang is all conflicted about the state of the world and how badly he screwed up. He promises to help Sokka. They ask Mai where Katara would be, but she doesn't know. She tells them about the prisoner processing center on Kyoshi Island, and realizes she can use that to send a message to Azula about where they can trap Aang. They check it out on Sokka's map, and Aang realizes that the Southern Air Temple is on the way. Sokka is put out by this, and Mai has no desire to go, but Aang is insistent. They reach the Southern Air Temple by late afternoon. They do the looking around thing, but it feels weird to Aang; contrast his enthusiastic reaction in the cartoon, here he has a bad feeling and senses a disturbance in the Force.

Azula and company find Zuko. He's living like a hobo and only has one eye. Azula reveals her plan: the Avatar has returned, Mai is going to set him up, and Zuko has to get ready to catch him. June is going to teach him how to bring in a bounty, while Azula and Piandao are going to get him in fighting shape. Zuko asks after Iroh, and Azula drops hints for the reader.

Night falls, and the ghosts show up. Sokka and Aang can't fight them, but Mai finds out that her platinum knife can hurt them. Appa is taken by the ghosts, and Aang is forced to go into the Avatar State and banish the ghosts, destroying their souls. Momo shows up here and helps the gAang in some way.

Chapter 4 The gAang comes to Kyoshi Island, guided by Mai to the Prisoner Processing Center. They're all wanted, of course, so they disguise themselves with Mai's expertise and infiltrate the town around the base. They find that the Processing Center is very high security, and also that Zhao is on the island looking for them. They don't know what to do, but before they can leave the town and start making plans, Aang gets caught by some local soldiers. The day is saved when the local rebels- a ragtag bunch known as the Unagi Resistance- arrive and take out the soldiers, destroying all the evidence. The gAang teams up with the rebels (including Suki!), to stage a distraction that will draw Zhao's troops away while the gAang sneak into the base. (Sokka and Suki have some mutual attraction, and Sokka asks Mai if she thinks Suki likes him, because he figures that girls can tell that sort of thing about each other. Humor and bonding!)

Mai takes the opportunity, after they find out that the Waterbenders are sent to Crescent Island, to send a telegraph to Azula revealing the gAang's ultimate destination. Meanwhile, Zhao finds out about it (Suki tips him off), and confronts Mai coming out. He realizes she's working for the Royal Family, and accuses her of working with the Fire Lord to undermine him. Mai pins him to a wall and escapes.

Mai meets up with the rest, and they step outside to find out that the Unagi's have put chum in the water and roused the Unagi itself. Aang and company defeat it, and leave. Then Zhao swoops in and takes out the rebels, and Suki is revealed as an informant. Turns out she's a Kyoshi patriot who has been helping the Fire Nation in order to buy her people's safety (another case of too much attachment, story themes for the win!), and Zhao makes her leave the island and help him get Aang or else he'll clamp down on Kyoshi Island and ship them all to the South Pole mines.

Chapter 5 Zuko adventure with June, and subplot with Aang, Mai, and Sokka. Zuko and June are traveling through the Earth Kingdom, on the way to a Fire Nation military base, and come across what June and Zuko recognize as a battlesite. (The place where Zuko slandered his father's command and was challenged to an Agni Kai.) June is already familiar with the ghosts popping up in the wake of Sozin's Comet, and wants to go around lest they encounter the living dead. Zuko and Azula are skeptical, but June puts her foot down, and she's the one driving. They encounter a village nearby, and after confirming that the battlesite is haunted, it comes out that a kid has gotten lost in there. (Stupid kid.) Zuko, roused for the first time by the prospect getting the Avatar and going home, wants to help, but Azula points out the stupidity of risking his life when victory is in their grasp. June backs her up at first, but when Zuko points out that he'll never be able to save fight anyone without real experience, switches her support to Zuko. Gracelessly, Azula backs down and heads to a Fire Nation base to check for messages from Mai. Zuko expects June to go with him, but she resolves to drink away the chance that Zuko will die and she'll lose her commission, so he heads out alone. He's joined in the Ghostland by Not Mai- a spirit borrowing Mai's face and taking her voice, appearance, and mannerisms- a trickster mentor. In between flashbacks to his confrontation with Ozai, Zuko beats the ghost haunting the place and saves the kid, but it turns out that none of it was real. He goes back to find June passed out drunk in the middle of the ruins of a town that's been gone for decades.

Meanwhile, Mai is sick of living in the great outdoors and has the gAang stop for a night at the spa place from 'The Avatar State.' She pretends to be Ty Lee and enjoys a nice bed'n'breakfast. The gAang talk a bit, Mai explains what a "Weapon of the Fire Nation" is, and generally bond while filling in some of the backstory that's being revealed in Zuko's segment. *Also, Aang notices that Momo is missing and gets into hijinks looking for him. References: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bakeneko http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angra_Mainyu

Chapter 6 Opening scene: the gAang are in a market, and a vendor is trying to sell Aang a new pet. Mai puts the kibosh on it.

The gAang is making their way to Crescent Island, but in order for Appa to get there, they need to take off from someplace close to it in the Earth Kingdom (passing over the sea known as 'the Crucible' in the process), but the Fire Nation is aware of Aang's return now, and Zhao specifically has figured out that they're heading towards Crescent Island. The military presence is such that the gAang can't safely fly Appa where they need to go. They run into a Fire Nation force and make a running retreat, when they're saved by a masked rebel who takes them back to his group's base.

The Blue Spirits are revealed to be vigilante guardians of individual towns, and this one leads Aang to a rebel group willing to help get the gAang on their way; they'll smuggle them through the Fire Nation colonies, and then launch Appa from a boat in the Crucible. Haru is a member; his dad was killed on the day of Sozin's Comet, even though he didn't fight back, so Haru was inspired to take up arms. During the operation, the Blue Spirit (actually one of several operatives using the identity of a folk hero, but this is the one who saved the gAang, later to be revealed as Jet) discovers that Mai has a code wheel that lets her communicate with the Royal Family. He wants her to hand it over, but Mai- being secretly loyal to Azula- refuses. They have a tussle while the ship is attacked by Zhao's forces, leading to the gAang making a hasty getaway. Jet is revealed to be this Blue Spirit.

Meanwhile, Zhao begins to suspect that there are great- more *Royal*- forces interfering with his mission to capture the Avatar. (Really Ursa/Ozai trying to aid Zuko.)

Chapter 7 The gAang has reached Crescent Island and the prison there. Sokka establishes that he'll be parting ways with the group once he finds Katara, because he expects her to need peace and rest, and he's going to stick with her. He wishes Aang good luck and hopes they meet again, but doesn't expect to actually be part of Aang's continued campaign against the Fire Nation.

Meanwhile, Zuko is waiting in ambush, hidden for now. Azula plans to run interference for him, while June has fulfilled her contract and has gone her own way.

The gAang discover that the prison is all underground, in the caverns created by Roku. The lava flows are used to dehydrate the air, making it a natural bane for the Waterbenders imprisoned there. The gAang has a surprisingly easy time of sneaking in, only to have the heavy end of the hammer dropped on them. Sokka gets separated from the rest as Zuko attacks Aang, and goes off searching for Katara and the Waterbenders. Mai teams up with Zuko, but Aang manages to dodge defeat and capture despite his shock and sorrow. There's a tense chase through the old temple complex where Aang hides and uses echoes to beseech Mai to help him.

Chapter 8 Mai is torn about betraying Aang, and realizes that he's actually going to die if he's brought back to the Fire Nation. She finds that she's grown human empathy, and cannot betray her friend like that. Meanwhile, Sokka goes on hijinks and eventually finds the Waterbenders. Among them are Katara and Hama. Sokka frees them all somehow- ooh, maybe he's been carting around a barrel of water or something, and breaks it open for all the Waterbenders to use, plus all this time he's been carrying a waterskin that Gran-Gran made filled with Southern Seas water for Katara- and then first thinks that he needs to get them all out while Aang plays rearguard.

Meanwhile, Zhao arrives. He attempts to move his forces onto the island in pursuit of the Avatar, but Azula blocks him. Zhao puts two and two together and realizes that she and Ozai are trying to aid Zuko. He can't get around Azula without disobeying royalty, but he finds an excuse to commence bombardment with his full fleet. (Perhaps he even sends a warning that he knows will be inadequate, so that Azula can get away but not Zuko and the others.) He aims at the old temple above the prison, as he's realized that's where Aang and Zuko are.

Aang is still dodging Zuko and Mai when the temple takes a hit from Zhao's bombardment. There's a running fight between Zuko and Aang where Zuko uses the fire to great effect, nearly defeating Aang. Then an especially explosive hit lands in the temple, collapsing a floor under them all, or causing a lava geyser or something. Zuko and Mai nearly die, but Aang saves them.

Sokka leads the Waterbenders out of the prison, and once they get outside, they have access to a beach and unlimited water. They start to absolutely dominate the prison staff, and they signal for Zhao's help.

Now having an excuse, Zhao leads his troops all over the island. He's less concerned about the Waterbenders, though, and personally heads up to the temple.

The Waterbenders seize one of Zhao's landing craft, and are going to leave, but Sokka realizes that he needs to make sure that Aang and Mai are okay. He says goodbye to Katara and is about to go back, but she decides that she's going with him. Together, they head out.

Mai realizes that she's picked the in-denial jerk over Aang, and when they all land safely, she stops Zuko from attacking further. (She pins Zuko, or takes a hit meant for Aang, or something.) Aang saves her, and they both get away, only to run into Zhao's main force. It looks like they'll have the fight of their lives, but then Sokka and Katara show up on Appa, and the new larger gAang gets away.

Zhao is upset at losing Aang, but finds Zuko, still pinned to the wall where Mai left him. He arrests Zuko for breaking the terms of his banishment, and takes him the brig on his flagship. Azula tries to intervene, but now she's the one hampered by red tape. Zuko ends up in a cell next to Suki.

Chapter 9

Epilogue

Sokka introduces Katara to his friends, and asks what happened. Aang is going to lie for Mai, but she admits to being a traitor. Harsh words are had, and while both Sokka and Katara hate Mai now (Katara is racist, while Sokka is more smarting from the personal betrayal), Aang sticks by her, and they agree to let her stay on the team.

Zuko has failed and been betrayed by Mai. He realizes how much he's changed, that she was horrified by his actions. It makes him doubt himself, but he refuses to give up. He needs to figure himself out, and decide his own fate. To do that, he needs to get out of jail. He does a jail break, and in the process finds Suki and helps her escape, too, once he hears her story and realizes the parallels in his own situation. Together they escape and jump onto Azula's passing ship, and she smirks at Zhao as they sail away.

RISE OF THE SPIRITS The gAang wanders the Earth Kingdom, helping Katara and learning about the Spirit uprisings, while Mai is slowly accepted once again. Aang seeks to contact the past Avatars to get their perspective on the spirit monsters.  Meanwhile, Zuko isn't so sure about capturing the Avatar, but Azula has her marching orders and is disgusted at both Mai's betrayal and Zuko's reaction. Zuko also insists on keeping Suki around, and they grow closer. It turns out that Katara is in no condition to go adventuring, and take Ty Lee (now a hippy studying with neo-Airbenders) into their party to help care for her until they can get her to some healers. Eventually, they makes contact with the Earth Rebellion- Long Feng, the Earth King, and Toph. (Plus assorted others.) They help him make contact with the past Avatars, and he is able to cleanse some of the land of Spirit problems, and also has the power to summon them again. In the process, the Rebellion is nearly found and defeated by the Fire Nation, but they're saved by Iroh's assistance. Zuko, Azula, and Suki are captured. Zhao escapes and heads back to the Fire Nation with news of Iroh's treachery?

Katara: http://www.professional-counselling.com/nervousbreakdown_panic_attack.html#.U7YZhPldWBY

FALL OF THE HOUSE OF FIRE Iroh makes contact with the gAang and proposes to help them take down the Fire Nation in exchange for calling in Koh's Boon. He gives them a plan for destabilizing the Fire Nation, by sending them to the Fire Nation. Their plan is to show the Spiritual power of the Avatar, either by bringing spirits to attack the Fire Nation (military targets only) or solving Spirit problems there for the people. Katara urges Sokka to go with Aang while she heals in the Earth Kingdom, because she doesn't trust Iroh and Mai and wants Sokka to look out for Aang.

HOW ABOUT AANG FIGHTS AGNI KAI DUELS FOR A SHOT AT THE FIRE LORD IN AN HOMAGE TO THE ROCKY MOVIES? MEH.

The gAang (with Ty Lee) goes to a Fire Sage temple where an artifact of the Sun Warriors is being kept. The artifact is causing Spirit trouble, and Aang is to solve the problem, get the artifact for the Sun Warriors, and get the locals on his side. It turns out that Iroh was the one who plundered the artifact, and the gAang is clued in that Iroh may have an unhealthy interest in Spirit stuff.

Zuko, Azula, and Suki are in Iroh's custody, and understand that he's committing treason. Iroh lets them escape, because he knows that they'll add to the pressure cooker over in the Fire Nation. Why is Suki staying with them at this point? For Zuko?

Azulon hears of the work the Avatar is doing, and invites Aang to offer a truce? It would keep Zuko from ever coming back, and with any luck Aang will focus on healing on the Spirit troubles that have the Fire Nation scrambling for platinum. He's also open to the idea of just killing Aang if it doesn't look like the Avatar will let himself be controlled. Or directing Aang against Ozai. There are lots of possibilities for a clever old man, really. But Zuko and Azula's arrival heats things up for everyone. "Ozai" just wants to kill Aang lest he see who "Ozai" really is. That will also involve killing Azulon, which in the long term will mean dealing with Iroh.

Aang and Mai dance a Fire Dance with burning blades (Agni Budokai): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCNyHprEZK8

Meanwhile, Zhao is leading a coup (including the Fire Sages) to get rid of the whole Royal Family, out of fear that the Family will appease Aang. Things explode when Zhao leads a military attempt to seize the Fire Lord's castle, and the gAang find themselves in the middle of a war.

"Ozai" kills Azulon. The Weapons of the Fire Nation all have a "night of long blades" in the Capital while the citizenry hide, and they wipe each other out. Aang reveals that "Ozai" is Ursa. Azula has killed the Fire Sages. Zhao has retreated and Jeong-Jeong has taken over the Fire Nation in the name of the White Lotus, and reveals that Iroh- now technically the Fire Lord- has dissolved the office and abdicated. Piandao tries to kill Zuko and Azula but they are saved when Suki brings the gAang in. Zuko and Azula find their mother after she's swallowed a goblet of poisoned wine.

Azulon wants to drink Aang's chi and become immortal?

Zuko gives Suki a Kyoshi Warrior fan that was given to the Royal Family as a symbolic gift of conquest.

WARLORD OF THE NORTH The gAang goes to the North to confront the new Fire Lord, Iroh. They meet Yue and Pakku. Iroh comes across as nice, if a bit ruthless, and he tries to convince Aang that he has a plan for dealing with the Spirits in the Earth Kingdom. However, then the gAang discovers that Iroh has Zombie Lu Ten hidden away and is feeding him humans, and plans to take control of all reincarnation/rebirth. Conflict happens, Lu Ten is killed, and Iroh betrays the White Lotus and flees to enact his ultimate plan- to use the stolen platinum to take control of the Tree of Time and gain control of all rebirth/reincarnation. (He has 49 days before he will lose Lu Ten forever to the cycle, so he need to act quickly.) The gAang gears up to go after Iroh, but Mai gets it into her head that she has to give up her face to Koh in order to do it. Does Iroh perhaps have Spirit protection? Yeah, that would work; it's some kind of protection that keeps Aang from killing him. That should really be set up, though, so that it doesn't come across as an excuse for Mai's tragedy... I wonder if that can be applied to the Blue Spirits..

THE TREE OF LIFE Iroh siezes the Banyan-Grove Tree in Foggy Swamp, since it is the real-world link to the Tree of Time. He is going to somehow use constructs made of platinum to pierce the tree and take control of the Time Energy, giving him control of all life, death, and rebirth. He plans to raise the dead in their original forms, rather than allowing them to reincarnate. Mai goes to Koh to become The Faceless Destroyer, while Aang and Sokka chase after Iroh. Confrontations are had, and Mai is allowed to die and be reborn thanks to Kuruk's Folly. Iroh offers to revive the Air Nation for Aang, but that would mean erasing all the people they have already become, so Aang refuses and defeats Iroh. The tree is mortally wounded, though, so Aang has to give his life energy to heal it, killing him.

EPILOGUE Aang reincarnates as a Foggy Swamp girl. Mai reincarnates as a boy who makes friends with neo!Aang. In the background, the war is over and the rebuilding is well under way. Aang's sacrifice fixed all the ghost problems around the world. Yay. Sokka and Katara find the new Avatar and begin her training.

[chiseler]

I got it from Mother

Tom Lehrer is almost 91, so I should say something about him right now, rather than waiting to ride the coattails of his obituary, which always feels like cheating.

As a teen, I heard his first album, Songs by Tom Lehrer, within a year or two of its recording in 1953. It was a birthday gift from my mother and remains one of the major puzzles of my early years: How did she come to know of it, and why would she have chanced passing along such a salacious (for the time) load of ribaldry to her impressionable teen nerd son?

Lehrer mocked and parodied everything on earth. He lauded "The Old Dope Peddler," insinuated depravity among the Boy Scouts, treated the South as though the exclusive realm of the Jukes family, accused Nikolai Ivanovich Lobachevsky of mathematical plagiarism, updated an Irish ballad to feature familial cannibalism, sneered at aging romance, and recounted the joys of keeping a bodily trophy from murdering his wife. All of it funny as hell – and sung by an instructor of math at Harvard.

How unlikely was this album and its follow-up, again provided by my mother? The original came out the year before the comics code was instituted, at the height of McCarthyism, with the Hollywood production code still in effect, and the country quaking in terror of nuclear Armageddon. (We were afraid of comic books? Yes we were, especially EC's "Tales from the Crypt," which would encourage any youth to bash another's brains out with the first handy rock.)

Lehrer sold the first album directly, locally in Cambridge and by mail. The songs were never played on the air in the U.S., so it's even stranger that my mother would have discovered them: Did she have a secret identity, or was she Satan's pal – my elder brothers would have believed the latter. Maybe it stemmed from Mom's obsession with the British royals and her correspondence with a cousin in England; for some reason Lehrer found his first real popularity there, especially with Princess Margaret.

In the early '60s, he produced protest songs for the TV show That Was The Week That Was, not just anti-war ("Wernher von Braun"), but anti-educational gobbledygook  ("New Math") and anti-religion ("The Vatican Rag" – oh, do us ex-Catholics love this one).

Lehrer was a prodigy, entering Harvard at 15, gaining a B.A. and M.A. in math (but never a Ph.D., despite 15 years of noodling at it). He grew up loving musicals and penning his own show tunes, but his humor, unique and beyond irreverent, comes from god knows where. While teaching at Harvard, MIT and UCal Santa Cruz (where he held courses in music and musical theater), he performed his rat-a-tat ditties when and wherever he could until he grew tired of repeating his work in the '70s. He produced only about three dozen songs, but they had an influence and reach far beyond their number. They stick in your mind like oatmeal on a doorknob.

You can hear echoes of Cole Porter in his precise yet convoluted lyrics, with rhymes that run around corners and meet themselves behind the outhouse.

This from "Poisoning Pigeons in the Park" on the second album:

My pulse will be quickenin'

With each drop of strych'nine

We feed to a pigeon

(It just takes a smidgin!)

To poison a pigeon in the park

He takes the rhyming a step further in "The Irish Ballad," where every line of every verse ends with "in," each rhyme natural, unstrained – and uproarious.

His approach to his subjects was fearless, rejecting just about every known taboo. Songs & More Songs of Tom Lehrer, a CD reissue of those first two albums, includes as an extra (along with three orchestral muddles of his work that should have been avoided), "I Got It from Agnes," a romp about an ummm sexually transmitted gift passed among a group of randy acquaintances. Though noted as having been recorded in 1996, it was part of his live act much, much earlier.

So... we start out with a brilliant kid with an incredible ear for lyrics, a sense of humor that could singe a skunk, and a disdain for all the social lies we tell each other. But none of it would have worked if he hadn't wrapped it in a complete, coherent package.

On stage, he performed in suit-jacketed, professorial garb and bow tie, the perfect contrast to the songs themselves that gave them extra heft. Live and on record, his voice rings like a bell. He may have the cleanest, most precise diction of any singer who ever lived, the humor delivered with an incipient snide undertone, as though the choirmaster had discovered where the pastor had hidden all those mutilated children – and wanted him to know it.

He can propel that voice at breakneck speed. His "Lobachevsky" pounds along, screeches to a stop, starts up again, on a dogsled race across Siberia. The vocal express reaches its peak in "The Elements," in which he rattles off the names of the then 102 elements of the periodic table to the tune of the Gilbert and Sullivan "Major-General's Song."

On YouTube you can watch a performance he gave in Copenhagen; he spews out those chemical siblings faster than a thermite reaction, delivered in no sane order except that of sound. Remembering all of them would, by itself, stump an eidetic rapper; translating them into a reproducible whole defies comprehension.

Most acknowledgements of Lehrer ignore his piano playing. It's so straightahead and undemonstrative that it could be mistaken for easy. But it has the same clarity and distinction of his voice and can shift effortlessly from folk to ragtime without your noticing. He never looks at the keys, never pauses, changes tempo as though the instrument had decided it for him.

Having watched Lehrer on YouTube and master ragtime pianist Bob Milne live in concert a few times, I come away wondering how certain people – certain rare people, whether carvers, butchers, musicians or athletes – can translate mental intention directly into physical action without pause or consideration, much as the rest of us can walk across the room. God knows I can't; I bite myself while eating.

I don't much care for musicals (why the hell are these people yodeling about a beheading?), but I'd love to have taken Lehrer's musical theater course. I can just imagine his parody of Camelot ("Oh, Guinevere, you're such a dear, haul your booty over here").

by Derek Davis

[xxbyimm]

The bet - A Thorin x OC series

For anyone who’s interested: here’s a link to my Masterlist OR if you love Enya, check out her story: Enya’s unexpected journey. 

Based on this imagine that I posted on Tumblr that everyone seemed to love. I decided that Thorin needed a strong OC for this series to work, so... Yes. I ended up with Enya. The characters did their own thing, so my first chapter turned out a little bit... different than I anticipated. I hope y’all like it anyway. xoxo

Phase I - The bet

Summary:  Our OC Enya lands in a fierce argument with her king, because she has seen him staring at another dam’s ass. She offers Thorin a challenge: to prove to her he does has, in fact, decent self-control, he has to refrain four weeks from physical contact. He thinks he can make it. Easily. He is a king. But who says the queen is gonna let him win this easily? Let the games begin…

Taglist: @symphony25 @oakenshieldsmizimel, @nelswp, @bellastellaluna, @imagines-for-multiple-fandoms, @leah-halliwell92, @sassytyphoondetective, @jotink78, @armitageadoration, @patanghill17, @sweeticedtea, @evyiione, @fergrigori, @thegreyberet, @maioneill, @mycabin13-blog, @deepestfirefun - Tumblr doesn’t want to tag some of you properly, I’m sorry!!! If you wish to be on this list, please let me know.

Warning: Enya’s swearing. Contains smut. 

All men were the fucking same.

No exceptions. Her mother had told her that once, many years before. Enya remembered the night vividly. There had been a party, hosted by a guy from her math-class she really, really liked. She had spent all day perfecting her look: trying to find the right outfit, adding just another layer of mascara… She had been all fired up; ready to receive that first kiss. Alas it turned out to be a disaster; the object of her affection broke her heart by kissing her best friend. Enya went straight home and sat on the patio for hours as she tried to remember what she had done wrong to deserve something like this. The tears that kept falling down her cheeks ruined her makeup and turned her into a sad panda. It didn’t matter, her life had ended anyway. Looking back, she had to conclude that back then, she had already been quite the drama queen. At some point her mom joined her and pulled her daughter into a tight hug. At first Enya didn’t want to talk to her mother and tried to shove her away as any teenager would do. The two of them fought all the time (and would spend a great deal of their time quarrelling after that day anyway), and Ailva seemed the last person on earth capable of comforting her. But at that moment, Ailva just held her daughter and understood the agonizing feeling of an heartbreak.

‘All men are the same, En.’ She confided. ‘They can’t help it, it’s the weakness in their flesh.’ ‘But we were meant to be!’ Enya had cried out, too hurt to see the boy in question clearly wasn’t. A soft smile appeared on Ailva’s face, only too familiar with puppy love. ‘You’ll find your soulmate, honey. Don’t you worry. And when you do, you’ll know.’ ‘How?’ Enya had sniffed. This wasn’t helping her at all! A faint promise of meeting someone in the future who she didn’t even know yet, how was that supposed to cheer her up? ‘You just know.’ Her mother replied. ‘Trust me.’

Looking back, Enya wished she should have been wise and listened to the warning. But, naive as she was, she didn’t. She broke her heart many times after that night, always being left with the echo of her mother’s promise. She often wondered if she already met her soulmate, and why he hadn't found her yet. Ha, she bet the poor bastard probably took a wrong turn somewhere and was lost, too stubborn to ask for directions.

Turned out that was more true than she ever could imagine. The love of her life often lost his way, but was too proud to admit it. Even to her. A smile crossed her face. Her mother had been right after all. The day she met Thorin… It had been fireworks from the start. The intensity in which she wanted him, the fact that they couldn’t stay away from each other... They were bound to each other, meant to be. Designed by Mahal himself to match. Although their journey to Erebor hadn’t been easy and adjusting to their new roles as king and queen proved to be more of a challenge than both of them had expected, they had each other. She knew she could count on him. She knew the passion never died, because behind closed doors they were still as insatiable as in the beginning of their relationship. They were rock solid.

Or so she thought.

‘All men are the same, En.’ She repeated to herself. She huffed. Just mankind? For a long time she believed that dwarves were different, but right now she wasn’t so sure anymore. All males, every race included, were bastards. She’d never thought that Thorin would be the same, because he was no ordinary male. He was a dwarf lord, for god’s sake. But that obviously didn’t protect him from falling for the oldest trick in the book.

The other woman.

Enya Blueheart heaved a sigh and stood up from the huge boulder she had been sitting on for the last few hours. Since she lived in Thorin’s renewed kingdom, this rocky area on the quiet side of the mountain had been her refuge. She came here to practice her powers and to meditate- a vain attempt to keep herself sane. The mountain slope provided enough cover from prying eyes, allowing her to unleash her rage fully. On top of all that, from this point it only was a twenty minutes’ walk to Dale. She liked to come in Dale. After the BOTFA she had become good friends with Bard, and she couldn’t be more proud of him. The way he handled his position as lord of the city was admirable, and he had managed to transform the town into a thriving center again. The relationship between Erebor and Dale was, thanks to Enya, finally improving. Thorin wasn’t too happy about the bond between his wife and the bowman, but she simply told him to get over it and he did. For some time, things seemed to be right.

Enya slowly began climbing the path towards Erebor again. She had been outside all day, first helping out Bard with his letter to king Thranduil, and after that she spent the remaining afternoon on her hidden spot. The sky was already darkening, but she dreaded to go home. Not now, not when… She clenched her jaw, scolding herself for growing into a weak version of herself. Old Enya would have scorched any female that came near her king; after that she’d probably throw the ashes off the mountain and get away with the murder. But old Enya didn’t know the court, nor the powerful nobles that resided there. This new version of her, the more polished queen, had to change her tactics. She had to proceed with caution, and acting like pre-queen Enya would only lead to disaster. She groaned, wishing she’d paid more attention to Balin. That old goat (as she lovingly called him) knew his way around highborn dwarves, taking advantage of his sweet demeanor and lying in their faces without batting an eye. She still didn’t understand how he did that, and she made a mental note to ask him one day. She passed the soldiers that guarded the entrance of the mighty dwarven kingdom and they bowed before her. Enya smiled at them, resisting the urge to decline her head. She understood why social hierarchy was so important, but on days like this she wanted to disappear behind the walls and be no one. There was no hallway she could cross without having to greet someone. Talking about tiresome. She rolled her eyes.

��My queen.’ A soft feminine voice spoke behind her. Enya cringed and quickly turned around, ready to put on her haughty face when she saw her lady-in-waiting, Nin, smiling up at her. Her red locks were shining in the light of the torches, her pretty bluish-grey eyes sparkling with humor. Enya was grateful the title of lady-in-waiting had been given to Nin, because it meant she could keep her best friend close. And Nin was a gift from heaven. ‘God damnit, Nin!’ she exclaimed. ‘You scared me.’ ‘What are you wearing?’ Nin sniggered. ‘And where have you been? Thorin tried to find you all day, and he was not… pleased when I told him even I didn’t know where you was.’ Enya shot her friend a glance. ‘I’m your queen, you should bow before me and stop asking difficult questions.’ Nin grinned. ‘Oh, bollocks. You hate such formalities, and I don’t see anyone around here.’ She linked her arm with Enya’s and they strolled through the corridor towards the royal quarters. ‘If I may speak so freely…’ she continued and elegantly dodged Enya’s hand that tried to slap her. ‘You look stunning in those breeches, En. They hug you in all the right places…’ Enya giggled. ‘I think that’s exactly why Thorin insists me wearing a dress in court.’ Nin snorted. ‘Those modest dresses won’t make a difference. Even the noblest dwarves gawk at your pretty physique when you enter a room.’ ‘Oh, please.. tell him that!’ Enya begged. ‘Thorin is unbelievably stubborn about it.’ ‘Talking about that handsome subject…’ Nin began while they turned a corner. ‘Does the fact that you were missing all day having anything to do with a problem that starts with an E and ends with a N?’ ‘Don’t say it.’ Enya grumbled while clenching her fists. ‘I don’t wanna hear it. I. Will. Scorch. The. bitch.’ ‘I’m not stopping you.’ Her best friend confided. ‘She’s a brat and she deserves it for acting like that around Thorin.’

It had only been a few weeks since Enya sensed there was something wrong. A new dwarven family had shown up at court and Thorin allowed them to stay. They already blended in with the other nobles, but Enya didn’t like the way they seemed to change the atmosphere. The dams began to gossip, spreading ugly tales about others wherein no one was spared. To makes matters worse, she felt the distrust against mankind grow with the day. Which of course was completely unfair and unnecessary; Enya did her best to counter these accusations. But so far, it hadn’t been enough. Enya suspected the new noble family of conveying rumors, and especially a young dwarrowdam, called Elmilynn. She caught the filthy girl telling lies one time and kept an wary eye on her since then.

That’s when she noticed other things. She watched that bitch ogling HER husband a little bit too much during important gatherings. Or the dam bended a bit too close towards him when she had the delight of speaking directly with him. She laughed TOO loud at his jokes. That Elmilynn was trying way too hard and Thorin didn’t see it. He was treating her kindly, and Enya even caught him staring at her ass! Oh, she hated it. For all she could tell, he felt flattered and desired by the wench.

FLATTERED. DESIRED?

Motherfucking hell, she was going to kill him. He had no right to like, or watch any other female dwarf in that mountain but his queen. Oh, she could see right through that filthy little smug-faced girl! The little brat had decided to seduce the king, to persuade him in ditching his current queen. No doubt her family was behind her, some old-fashioned fools that liked to see all the old rules restored. Hatred against elves, men. Stricter rules for the women. They wanted back to that life of endless prosperity and power, the life that provoked a dragon to take their home. Enya scoffed. This queen wasn’t going down without a fight. She battled too viciously for all these changes, she loved her king too much to let this happen. She couldn’t fight with her fire this time, but she was ready to take another approach and roast Elmilynn and her whole family on a spit. She could wait, she was capable of keeping her head cool and-

‘GET BACK!’ The air was pushed out of Enya’s lungs when Nin suddenly pulled her back behind a statue. ‘What?!’ she grumbled. ‘Is master Runebelt in sight?’ Nin shook her head and motioned towards the other side of the corridor. Thank god, no master Runebelt. Enya liked the librarian, but the topics he redeemed interesting were enough to put her into sleep on the spot. She frowned and peered in the pointed direction.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

She pricked up her ears, trying to catch the conversation. ‘My king, what a coincidence I ran into you!’ Elmilynn chirped. ‘Yes, it is!’ Thorin replied. ‘I was about to retire to my chambers, but now while you’re here… I was thinking about what you said the other day-’ ‘You’ve got to be joking!’ Enya hissed while turning away. ‘I’m gonna KILL him, both of them! She just doesn’t stop! What did I miss, Nin? Are they involved?’ ‘No, my guess is that he’s being stupid and probably thinks she’s just friendly.’ Her friend tried. ‘Thorin cares too much about you to do this.’ ‘Does he?’ Enya questioned, while gesturing at the pair. ‘I don’t know anymore.’ ‘No, he’s just polite and-’ Nin began, but her face dropped when Enya slipped from their hiding place and walked into the hallway. ‘En, come back! You can’t…’ ‘Watch me.’ Enya groaned. ‘Talk to you later.’

Enya leaned casually against the wall and watched them nearing her, a single flame rising from her palm betraying how furious she actually was. Normally she would have teared them apart, but this situation needed tact. Everyone knew she was by no means an expert at that, but she could give it a try. ‘My queen.’ Thorin said when he noticed her, while giving her the I-have-been-looking-for-you-all-day-where-have-you-been-look. ‘Queen Enya.’ Elmilynn chirruped. ‘It’s so nice to see you again!’

‘Nice? Drop dead bitch.’ Enya’s mind scoffed.

‘Ah, my king. There you are.’ She said, ignoring her female subject. ‘Where have you been?’ Thorin inquired while eyeing her up and down. His pupils were slightly dilated, an clear sign of the fact that her appearance was distracting him. Ah, so far for avoiding the so-called lustful glances of his kin… Had she just found out the real reason why she couldn’t wear revealing clothing anymore? ‘Out.’ Enya replied matter-of-factly while studying her polished fingernails. She loved the bright red color on them. ‘I had things to do.’ Elmilynn shuffled awkwardly on her feet. Enya hoped she felt like a unwanted stranger, someone who didn’t belong here and she directed her gaze towards the young dam. ‘Oh, hi Elmilynn.’ She hummed, faking a smile. ‘I didn’t see you there… You have to forgive me, I had a long and tiresome day.’ ‘It’s nothing, my lady.’ ‘You don’t mind me taking back my husband, don’t you?’ Enya demanded in her queenly voice. ‘I was told he needs me.’ Elmilynn swallowed and bowed her head, but there was an indocile glare in her eyes. ‘Of course, my queen.’ She replied while turning away. ‘Forgive me for intruding, my king.’ ‘It was nothing…’ Thorin told the young dam. ‘We’ll continue our conversation tomorrow.’

‘Nothing? Tomorrow??’ Enya’s mind scolded. ‘You’re in big trouble, Oakenshield!’

‘Oh honey, wait a minute…’ Enya and walked up to the young surprised dam. She faced her directly, her fierce blue eyes boring into grey ones. ‘Nothing is worth my rage, trust me.’ She breathed. ‘Forget it.’ Elmilynn tilted her head, innocence displayed on her face. ‘I don’t what you’re talking about, my queen.’ ‘Oh, I think you do.’ Enya purred. ‘Head my warning. If you don’t back off right away, I’ll make sure you’ll suffer a great deal more than Smaug did. His death will seem merciful compared to your fate.’ Elmilynn scoffed. ‘We’ll see about that... We’ll see…’ Then she curtseyed shortly and disappeared behind the corner.

The door of their bedroom shut with a loud clank. ‘You are cruel.’ Thorin exclaimed. ‘Did you really think it was necessary to threaten that poor girl? She doesn’t deserve to be scolded by you like that!’ ‘Poor?’ Enya shot back. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t kill her on that very spot! I cannot stand there watch you FLIRT with that ignorant, little-’ She couldn’t even finish her sentence and let out an frustrated growl instead while throwing her hands in the air. ‘I don’t flirt with anyone but you.’ Thorin stated. ‘I don’t see what Elmilynn ever did to you for you to hate her so much.’ ‘Don’t you ever say that name.’ Enya hissed and shot him an ominous glare. She just couldn’t bear it, the name of that filthy dam rolling of his tongue like it was sacred. The bitch didn’t deserve something like that.

‘Wait, are you jealous of her?’ Thorin husked, his lips curving into a smile. ‘Is that what this is about?’ ‘As if.’ Enya huffed. ‘I’m a queen. The mere suggestion that I would feel threatened by that obnoxious… thing is repulsive.’ Thorin eyed her suspiciously and she knew he wasn’t buying it. Well, she didn’t even believe herself. The fact that she switched to her queenly voice, as Thorin liked to call it, said enough. ‘It’s a good thing your role as queen helps you to keep everything separated…’ Thorin mused. ‘It would be a shame if your emotions clouded your… judgement.’ ‘Oh, I hate you.’ Enya muttered angrily. ‘You do? I know I’ve been thinking about you all day...’ Thorin purred as his hands pulled her against him. His fingers traveled to her buttocks, kneading the soft flesh. ‘I got word you were looking for me.’ Enya told him, while her body writhed against him. His hands were distracting her from her fury and flared up a deep desire instead. ‘Yes, I was.’ Thorin replied, his lips dangerously close to hers. ‘Where have you been?’ ‘Bard’s.’ Enya whispered in his ear. If he could play the game, so could she. She knew she could make him jealous, if she pushed the right buttons… But Thorin wasn’t taking the bait. Instead he kissed her cheek, the rough facial hair scraping her skin. ‘So he had the pleasure to watch your cute ass move around him all day, while I got…’ he rumbled. ‘Nobles and boredom.’ His hands fumbled on her breeches. ‘And eager dwarrowdams.’ Enya huffed. ‘They all want you.’ ‘But why would I want those when I’ve got a beautiful queen by my side?’ Thorin murmured, his lips brushing over hers. ‘That doesn’t make sense, Blueheart.’ ‘Change of scenery.’ Enya opted. She licked her lips in anticipation when Thorin bent forward. ‘The thrill of…’ she stuttered. ‘Something new.’ ‘I find the thrill of having you a lot more satisfactorily…’ he breathed in her ear. ‘I don’t believe you.’ ‘Oh, mahal!’ Thorin growled. ‘You breathtaking, stubborn shrew!’

He surged forward and pulled her into a bruising kiss, his tongue intertwining with hers. Enya moaned into his mouth, passion swirling through her body and making her mad with desire. Her hands traveled down, struggling with the laces of his breeches. She slipped one hand inside, stroking him along his length. She wanted him, she needed him to show her how much he cared. Thorin groaned in response, his hips buckling forward. He hoisted her up and they crashed against his writing desk. ‘You can’t-’ she began and bit her lip when he wiped the desk clean with one swing of his arm. Inkpots and other writing materials clattered on the floor, the sound of it ringing in her ears. If no one had heard them quarrelling, they were aware of the situation now.

‘Apparently I can.’ He barked. ‘The thrill of something new…’ Before she could move, he pushed her down on the table and tore her pants from her body. The fabric made a protesting ripping sound as it came off and Thorin tossed it carelessly on the floor. ‘Those were expensive!’ she snarled as she shot up. ‘Who do you think you are, Oakenshield?’ Thorin smirked. ‘I’m a king. I’m sure I can persuade the tailor to make a new pair for you.’ ‘Arrogant asshole!’ She bickered. ‘It’s not like you allow me to WEAR THEM!’ Thorin clenched his jaw, his hands moving fast as he loosened his breeches some more, just enough to free his thick shaft from its confinement. Enya had no patience, she wanted him now! She wriggled in an attempt to free herself from her current position, but his strong hands pushed her down once more. A moan escaped from her lips when one of his fingers slipped into her heated core. Thorin groaned as her inner walls twitched around him. ‘Are you going to torture me?’ she quipped, tilting her head lightly. ‘No!’ Thorin snapped and positioned himself before her. Enya couldn’t help but admire his broad chest, the refined muscles on his abdomen, the thick dark trail of hair that grew towards his groin… He was a sight to behold. He managed to take her breath away, every single time. She didn’t even notice his fingers leaving her, but she did cry out as his entire length suddenly entered her in one go. Thorin looked down on her, his gaze burning through hers. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing somewhat unsteady. Enya’s cheeks flushed and a moan escaped her mouth as he started to pick up the pace, his rhythm hard and unforgiving. She wasn’t going to last long and he knew it.

Bastard.

‘You men are all the same!’ she bickered. It was hard to form words or to think while he took her like this, but she really didn’t want him to win this fight by simply fucking her senseless. ‘Are you really going to pick a fight about this?’ Thorin hissed, his hips slamming into hers. ‘Yes.’ She blurted out, biting her lip. Oh, he knew exactly how to drive her insane. She swallowed hard. ‘Damn right.. I am.’ ‘No.’ he rasped, closing his eyes while pleasure took hold of him. ‘Enya… don’t… just…’ ‘I’ve caught you staring at her ass NUMEROUS TIMES!’ Enya snapped, dragging her nails into his chest. ‘It’s HUMILIATING!’ ‘MAHAL, ENYA!’ he shouted. ‘STOP IT!’ ‘NEVER!’ she countered, but forgot what she wanted to say when he bit her collarbone. She threw her head back against the tabletop. Thorin was hovering over her, the heavy scent of his tobacco alluring her senses. He was everything she ever wanted, everything she ever desired. Her breath hitched, her body begging for its release. A fire pooled in her abdomen, flaring up with each stroke against the spot that made her see stars. Her body started to shiver when Thorin’s thumb grazed her clit. ‘Prove it.’ She moaned into his ear. ‘Oh god Thorin, prove it to me!’ ‘Yes!’ Thorin gasped. ‘Anything.’

Middle earth stopped spinning. The ground dissolved and waves of pleasure surged through her, sending her over the edge. Her body exploded, tuning out all senses, expect for the face of her one. Their eyes locked and Thorin growled desperately as her inner walls squeezed around him tightly, forcing him to follow her. ‘Enya!’ he murmured as his release claimed him, spilling his seed deep inside of her. He slumped against her and she listened as their ragged breathing slowed down. She caressed his long dark manes, her fingers traveling over the familiar patterns of his braids. Thorin heaved a sigh and kissed her gently. ‘I propose a bet, lasting four weeks.’ She breathed. ‘You have to last four weeks without any physical contact.’ ‘Any physical contact?’ Thorin asked, placing soft kisses in her neck. ‘Even you?’ ‘Yes. You can’t touch anyone, unless you have to during social occasions.’ Enya murmured. ‘And you can’t be near me either.’ ‘You think I won’t make it.’ Thorin said. ‘I don’t think your self-control is that strong.’ Enya dared. ‘I mean, all men are the same after all and it’s just a matter of time before their eyes start to wonder. Guys just can’t help yourselves, can they?’ Thorin narrowed his eyes. ‘I take the bet, if only to show you that weak flesh doesn’t exist in the line of Durin.’ ‘Think you can handle it?’ Enya inquired. ‘I know I will…’ Thorin rumbled. ‘I just wonder how you will cope, my queen. May I remind you that you’re as insatiable as I am?’ ‘I’ll be fine.’ Enya denied. ‘Then you don’t mind an additional rule…’ Thorin smirked and got up. ‘Surprise me.’ She purred, raising her legs and putting them on his shoulders. Thorin inhaled sharply, his blue eyes watching her intently. ‘You’re as tempting as ever, my queen.’ ‘Is that a problem?’ Enya giggled while tilting her head slightly. ‘It will be, for a few weeks.’ Thorin husked while leaving feather-light kisses on her feet. ‘Which brings me to our additional rule…’ A devious smile appeared on his lips. ‘Either of us are prohibited from pleasuring ourselves without the other being present.’

Gah! Frustrating dwarven king! He had just smashed her secret escape, her plan to survive those 28 days… It meant she had to suffer with him.

‘That surely sounds interesting.’ She replied, unwilling to admit that he cornered her. ‘When will the game begin?’ ‘Hmm…’ Thorin mused. ‘Let’s say midnight.’ Enya cocked a brow. ‘That’s at least five hours from now!’ ‘Exactly.’ He agreed. ‘It will give me plenty of time to ensure we’ll end up both satisfied for at least a few days.’ ‘A few days?’ she teased. ‘Is that even possible?’ ‘Well..’ Thorin told her while lifting her up in his arms again. ‘We can try…’

Let the games begin…