#but ye its a little annoying referring to her as 'the bride' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

funtimebunnyblog · 4 years ago

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How do you think the pillar men would react to a s/o who’s pretty innocent and a loveable ray of sunshine? Just the sweetest soul ever. Never having any ill intentions towards anyone ever, even if they’re mean to her. S/o has a lot of empathy and is just Disney princess level of kindness and nurturing. Sorry if that’s specific. I just always love the trope for couple that are opposites attract.

Did you mean: H O L L Y K U J O ???

Holly: Jotaro, make sure you eat all your vegetables 🥰 Jotaro: *is about to tell her to F*** off* All 4 of his new Pillarmen step-dads: 😡😡😡😡 Jotaro: *sweating* Yes Mom... 😰

I agree, dear Anon, I'm a bit of a sucker for big intimidating Pillarmen with a sweet little mate ❤❤❤ I'm even more of a sucker for writing it! 🥰😇😘 Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen (separate) with a sweet and nurturing s/o...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• From the moment he first met you, your kindness was baffling to Kars.

• Even before you two had begun a proper relationship, he took notice that you were always dotting on him.

• Sometimes when he was up in his study, spending hours at his desk as he worked away at piles of paperwork, you would pop in to check up on him every so often with a mug of tea for him in hand; brewed hot and black with no sugar, just the way he liked it.

• Somehow you just always knew what he liked and how he liked it.

• You often brung along a comfortable blanket to drape over his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you asked him if he needed anything else and encouraged him to take a break if and when he needed it.

• Nothing prompted you do do these things, he never once asked you for anything really, but it seemed as if you went out of your way to show a little kindness every time.

• Kars knew himself to be a cold creature but you were a person who made his frosty heart thaw with the warmth you radiated.

• As a man who considered nature precious life, he found himself admiring how unbelievably good you were with Animals.

• In fact, they just seemed to flock to you!

• Once, when you both went to an Animal shelter to look for a pet to adopt, Kars turned his back for only a minute and came back to find that you had somehow coaxed the meanest and mangiest old cat there into your lap.

• The shelter workers stood there absolutely gobsmacked as they watched the animal, that had scratched and hissed at and bitten anyone and everyone who had even dared to come near it, cuddling in your arms and purring like a kitten.

• "Aren't you just the sweetest thing?~" You giggled, lovingly running a hand on the cats bristly old fur as it rumbled contently, its purr was like a running motor. "What a pretty kitty you are!"

• Kars could only smile softly to himself as you both left the shelter that day with the mean old cat you were still lovingly cradling in your arms.

• He had to admit, even though he was thousands of years old and an Ultimate lifeform; you somehow felt like you were much higher above him, like a benevolent and virtuous Queen.

Esidisi:

• Your sweet and motherly nature was the very first thing to make Esidisi absolutely head over heals for you.

• There were times you made his heart swell to the point of it hurting when he watched you waltz around the house, singing a happy tune as you did chores or cooked.

• Even though you knew he didn't necessarily need to eat, you always questioned if he was hungry and offered to make him food.

• And it was always delicious homemade food at that!

• You absolutely brought life to every room you passed through and it pulsed through everything you made.

• It was as if everything you touched left behind a little magic in his eyes.

• Once, when you two were still in the stages of getting to know one another, you happened to witness him have one of his crying fits for the first time.

• Esidisi had been very stressed that day and of course, it all overwhelmed him and came out in a flood of tears.

• Immediately, you dropped the laundry you were folding the second you heard him start to sob from the other room and ran to see what was going on.

• "Oh my goodness, what happened?" You questioned, coming towards him quickly.

• Even through his barrage of tears, he didn't miss the genuine concern in your voice and the worry etched into your face as you lowered yourself on your knees in front of him, taking his tearstreaked face gently into your hands.

• "Do you need a hug? We can hug!" You told him, opening your arms to him with no hesitation whatsoever as he struggled to get an explanation out through his bawling.

• The way you rubbed his back, crooning for him to take deep breaths, was something that would stay with him forever as usually people tended to just stand back and gawk at him when he was having a meltdown.

• You hardly even knew him and there you were, comforting him and letting him cry all over you as if you had known him your whole life!

• Each time he spent his evenings with his arms wrapped around you as you cooked supper, both of you singing, he was honestly starting to think he had fallen in love with a Goddess in disguise.

Wamuu:

• You were the only person in the world who could make Wamuu, the greatest and fiercest warrior who ever lived, turn into a shy and blushing mess.

• The way you gently touched his arm and smiled up into his face as you spoke to him, asking him if he was hungry or tired after a long day of training, never failed to make this hardened Pillarman turn to mush.

• Your voice was like music to his ears, as if your words always held a secret song.

• When you did things for him, no matter how small on your part, he could always tell it was done purely out of love.

• "I thought you would get cold going out this time of year, so I made you a scarf and mittens!" You said with a smile, presenting him with the hand-knitted treasures one cold winters day when he was getting ready to leave the house.

• Wamuu was never a person to wear clothes at all. In fact, he would never be cold or hot or uncomfortable in any climate in the slightest being an Ultimate lifeform.

• But still, he stared at the folded scarf and mitts with wide eyes, holding them in his hands like one would a baby bird.

• He had seen you knitting on the couch these past few nights, smiling softly to yourself as you hummed and put love in every stitch. He had honestly thought nothing of it at the time but now it all made sense.

• You had spent all your free time making these... just for him?

• From that moment on, whenever he and the other Pillarmen went outside in the snow (doing God-knows-what), you can bet that he was wearing that scarf and mittens.

• With nothing else but his loincloth, of course.

• When the others questioned him as to why he was wearing such ridiculous attire when he had no need for them, he simply stood there with his head held high; his scarf swaying in the wind as he clenched his mittened hands into fists at his sides.

• "With all due respect my Masters; my beloved bride made these for me." He said calmly, the corners of his lips quirking into a soft smile as their expressions morphed into ones of disbelief. "And believe me when I say that I cherish them as much as I cherish her."

• The warrior actually felt a little boost in his pride seeing the little gleam of jealousy in his companions' eyes at his words.

• It only fed his little ego more when he showed up one day with a new knitted hat with a fuzzy pom-pom on top and Esidisi actually cried and asked if you could make one for him too.

Santana:

• Santana had always rightfully believed that all Humans were the same; loud, annoying, primitive, cruel, dangerous...

• That was until he fell in love with you of course.

• You were a kind of Human he wasn't aware existed, a very soft and loving kind.

• You just seemed to radiate feelings that touched his very soul; like a bouncy ball of sunshine.

• If anyone had ever done something even borderline disrespectful to Santana, he wouldn't put hesitate them in their rightful place (in his stomach that was) but you on the other hand; you always brushed any rude behavior from another off with a smile.

• Always curious, Santana often found himself hanging around in the background, watching you carry out your housework routine.

• You didn't mind this of course, you always assured him that you liked his company.

• Sometimes you even lovingly referred to him as your shadow.

• "Would you like to help, Santana sweetie?" You asked him with a smile as you peered over your shoulder; you were rolling out and cutting homemade cookie dough to bake.

• He noticed you were always so patient, praising him for the littlest things; guiding his hands with the rolling pin, showing him how to flour the cutter and carefully peel away the outline of the shapes.

• "A star for my star," you beamed, holding up a warm star shaped sugar cookie for him to take when you had pulled them from the oven.

• He blinked as you waved the freshly baked cookie in his face, taking it carefully.

• A little smile curled around the pastry when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his help.

• You and only you could make him feel tingles from the insides out.

• One of his most favourite routines with you was when you sat on the couch on your phone or watching T.V at night; where you'd invite him to lay his head in your lap.

• Your melodic voice could only be compared to a Princess', your little fingers combing out the tangles of his thick red hair as you hummed to him or talked to him about his day before he was lulled to sleep by it all.

• Your sweetness, your warmth, your empathy; it gave him a hope for Humanity he never had before he met you...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #pillarmen headcanons #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago

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Hi! If you don't mind could you write me some headcanons about being bff with some female cp's? Like Jane, Nina, Clockwork, Nurse Ann...?

One of my best friends is called one of these names so it was odd to write XD Some headcanon’s were totally true about her as well, and some definitely were n o t. XD

Anyway I’m not sure how comprehensive this is since I just kinda spewed it all out so, uh… I hope you like them! 😅

~~~

Clockwork:

· Natalie stays at your house all the time and eats all your food. Girl has a FAST metabolism so you cannot tell, but she eats e v e r y t h i n g.

· She doesn’t even have a key to your home, you just come home from everyday activities and she’s slumped in your couch cushions watching TV and there’s a pool on your bathroom floor from her shower and- oh, she has also ordered pizza so get your wallet out.

· You just squint/glare at her before flopping on the couch beside her. She hands you the remote and gets comfier by you.

· Even when you have a romantic interest over, she is there at your house, comfortable on the couch playing games on your phone as you walk your ‘friend’ to your room.

· It’s not all frustrating though, she’s always there to protect you. There have been multiple burglaries that she has intercepted and ‘taken care of’. She’s honestly like a guard dog who also has an excellent sense of humour.

· And don’t think she just wants you around for your apartment and money. Nay nayyyyyy nay. She tells you all about the Creepypasta drama and what’s going on at the mansion, even though you aren’t apart of that life.

· And she calls when she’s away. Just calls up to talk to you.

· You two are the kind of friends that don’t need to talk to each other all the time. In fact, you agree that talking to people all the time is annoying and too much trouble, and you could totally go without each other for days (Weeks even) if either of you were busy! But… without either of you even realising, you always end up contacting each other in one way or another every day, anyway. Its easy with you two. No romantic relationship could compare.

· She was the groom and you were the bride in your make-believe weddings and mums and dads games as kids.

· On Toby: “Okay Nat, I like Toby but I hope you know, if he hurts you… well there is absolutely nothing I can do to wreak revenge on your behalf, as he is a duo hatchet wielding psychopath, except maybe give him a stink eye. … When he is looking away and therefore cannot see the stink eye.”

· More on the Toby subject: Clockwork once took you to Slender Mansion (Cuz you were targeted by a botched victim of hers because she cares about you and she wanted you close by to keep you safe until she could, like, finish killing the guy and all. Whatever though, no biggie. Pft, At least that’s how she made it out to be.) and she had to leave you for a moment so she handcuffed you and Toby together because he’s the only one she could trust to watch you.

· It was very awkward for the two of you, but definitely a bonding experience. You were both very happy to see Clocky come back though.

· HORROR. The world of horror is your favourite genre together. Supernatural horror, slashers, basement dwellers, vampires, werewolves, the blob, stalkers, murderers, psychological horror, black and white, colour, movies, tv shows, books- whatever. You two get so excited to experience new fictional horror.

Jane The Killer:

· If you’re into boys, let me tell you right away- Jane is very critical of their actions. She was at a very influential time in her life (Especially concerning boys and girls and romance) when she met Jeff and Liu. She met those boys, thought ‘Oh, they’re cute. Maybe budding crush?’, and then Jeff killed her family, burnt down her home and ruined her life and Liu became an asshole, and now the male species has been, sorta… tainted. She knows there are good ones (In fact, m a n y boys are lovely, of course.), but one’s that you’re in romantic cahoots with are always going to be under her very watchful eye anyway so she doesn’t really bother to hold back her fear (Which translates into dislike… or hate) with them. So if you have boy problems, be careful. Provided you like this/these guy/s, at least. If you don’t like them, then she’s the perfect person to go to!

· If you are a boy, then- of course, none of this applies to you. She loves you. Don’t worry. You’re her best friend!

· Girls are an entirely different situation though of course. Jane drinks that love women juice every single day.

· Jane is really good with altering clothes, so she’s the one you go to when you need help hemming something or taking something in. She likes to do it, too. Quality best friend time while not being lazy.

· Speaking of her hating to be lazy… This does not apply at night. Nighttime is a whole other ballgame. Its bedtime by 7 for her if you don’t lock her into plans a week in advance. If she is braless and in her P.J’s, you will not be able to peel her from her home. Except for snacks, but even if she goes to the grocery store, she’s not getting changed and she’s going to wear her bunny slippers.

· You two watch so many cartoons together. Gravity Falls, Star Vs The Forces of Evil, Over The Garden Hedge, Villainous, Looney Tunes, Ducktales, etc. Any and all that you can get your hands on.

· You two are prepared to get platonically married, for any reason. Like, you need to stay in the country? Married; You’re staying. You’re the only one who can testify against hr in the court of law? Married, so by law you don’t have to. One of you accidentally planted yourselves with a kid and (Cuz you’re ride or die for each other, obviously), you’re gonna parent the child together and cuz of religious beliefs one of your would feel better about raising them together with a wedding band? Married.

· Jane doesn’t drink, so when/if you get drunk she’s always there to keep you safe.

· Jane also gets friend-jealous, a lot. Like, that bitch just called you her best friend, Y/N. Is she your best friend? I thought I was. So who is it, Y/N? Me or her? HM? (She is prepared to turn up to wherever you and this person are hanging, all glamorous and cool as she is, and show off. Prove she’s a way better friend then this new person so they back off).

· When you were little, she was the bride and you were the groom in your wedding/marriage/mums and dads games.

Nina The Killer:

· You have known her for both your entire lives and there have been iffy, and dark times but through hell and high water you have stuck with her. You love her. She’s your girl, you are her person too. You will be with her, and protect her from anything.

· You are the only one in the world that loves her, really. You may not quite understand her weirdness, but you stick with her anyway because you love her.

· Just like- baseline of your friendship is being ride or die for each other.

· You were also really into Jeff, but at a more… healthy? Level? Like, you were still romantically interested in a real-life murderer, but you wouldn’t have done anything about it. You wouldn’t hurt anyone (Except to protect others) or victim blame, or contact the victims (Dear God) or whatever, but you would take peaks at fanfiction and gab with Nina about it. I mean, it’s not grand, but in comparison to Nina, hah… you were harmless.

· Now though, that you’ve met him and he is the reason your bets friend is so hurt and broken, you are not the fondest of him. I mean, you still have a place in your heart for the version of him you and Nina made up in your heads (The version that Nina still believes is real) but that isn’t the real him. Jeff Woods is an ass. You need to keep your friend safe from him.

· And uh… so nowadays… occasionally, you will find out where Jeff is (You keep an ear out) and, you know, just… lie your ass off to Nina. Yep. You tell her you heard that he’s in the opposite direction than he is so that she’ll unknowingly put more distance between him and her.

· Yes. It’s a lie, but… its for the greater good! It’s for Nina’s mental health and physical safety.

· Anyway, moving on to lighter things.

· In your make believe mums and dads/’grown up’ games that you would play together as kids, you were a single parent and she was the dog.

· She will lie for you in an instant. She’s also really good at it.

· You walked into a room once and saw she was drawing something, and it turned out to be your joint tombstone. She has not let this go- you will be buried in the same plot together, if it is the last thing she does. This is slightly concerning, but… also kind of cute. You can roll with it.

· “What if I get married or have kids?”

· “They will need to apply with me to join. There will be an interview process.”

· ‘What about pets?”

· “Oh, they can come in! No fee!”

· Do not underestimate her weight. If she doesn’t want you to leave, she will hold onto your leg and go deadweight, and you will s t r u g g l e.

· Nina talks to herself, but she acts like the person she’s talking to is another person, inside her mind. You both know its not, but you refer to the other girl as Agnes anyway. Super casual.

· Follows you when you go on dates (At least the first one with someone)to make sure all goes well and texts you rapid fire when she smells something fishy. Even the smallest thing.

· You two really love dystopian teen fiction. Divergent? Matched? Hunger Games? Maze Runner? Ugles? Alllllll. You consume them and then watch the movies/tv shows too.

Nurse Ann:

· Live-in medical services! This means you can get really cheap life insurance and not worry about it to much.

· And on the topic of insurance… Ann is super smart, and organised, and just really awesome at practical stuff like that. Insurance, bills, mortgages, any kind of forms and receipts. And she’s happy to sit down and help you go through it- and, as we all know, everything is better when it’s with a friend you feel comfortable with.

· You can tell Ann anything and she’ll just roll with it. No judgment. Either she takes it and lets you talk about it or she just acknowledges it and moves on.

· Like Jane, Ann has very little patience for boy problems. In fact, she has zero time for it. Boys? Girls? No thank you. So if you’re into boys, I have some bad news for you.

· Best friend maintenance. Occasionally, Ann will over work herself (with murder) and you will need to guide her to relaxation. Gently persuade her to sit down at the dinner table and just make idle chit chat with her every now and then as you make her a good, hearty meal (Or as good as you can do XD Anything between Beefy stew and a Cheese toastie will work fine, don’t worry. She’s not picky at all), and then watch some movies with her. No phones, no knitting, no drawing, no… whatever. No other activities except TV watching! She needs to rest. I’m always shocked at how relaxing just sitting and watching TV can be. There’s a big difference between doing that and multitasking.

· Ann will call you to pretend there’s an emergency if you want to get out of social engagement.

· A thing that two enjoy together is science fiction. Star Trek (Including the animation), The War of Worlds, the world of Star Wars, Dune, a Handmaids Tail, The 100, Eureka, etc. She loves the brainy stuff.

· Ann is the logical friend, who tries to give the most practical advice and make pros and con lists and everything. And then you go ahead and do the crazy thing, the thing she said definitely would not work and would probably make things worse, and she just face palms and says she’s never getting mixed up in your mess again. … Until the next time, when she totally does.

· “I love you Y/N, but I am not about to walk into a police office and bail you out of jail so do not do that.”

· You trap her into resting by painting her nails (Hands and feet) in her sleep right before her alarm is about to go off so she has to take the morning SLOW or the paint will mess up. She just wakes up, you hold up a sign in front of her face that says ‘NAILS’ and she stops immediately. “You bitch.”

· As kids, of course, the two of you would play make-believe family games and you were both mums (/ or you were the dad). She was the working mum and you were forced to stay home take care the baby (large container of vitamins with a face drawn on).

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kimnjss · 5 years ago

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the hardest part | requested

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader ⇢ fic type: one shot ⇢ genre: angst ⇢ word count: 2.5K ⇢ theme: bestfriend!jungkook + friend zone ⇢ warnings: i don’t think there are any?? its kinda sad lol. ⇢ synopsis: for years, you have been in love with your best friend. you regretted not saying anything about it... and it only gets worse when his wedding is just around the corner. ⇢ A/N: hope you like this! wrote the entire thing listening to the the hardest part by roy kim, listen to it while reading it... it’s even sadder that way :(

It was so hard to see him with her. Happy with her. Jungkook and you have been best friends basically your whole lives. You met in first grade and ever since then your parents made sure that you had the same teacher, same classes, same lunches. They didn't want to separate you.

Even back than Jungkook was a bit of a hothead, snapping at any one who dared to cross him. You were way more calm and thoughtful, managing to put the fire out every time. You balanced each other out.

The closeness between you only grew as the years went on. You never spent more than a few days apart. When family trips came around it was always: 'Can Jungkook come too?' or 'Y/n's coming, right?'. You two were the definition of inseparable.

You fell in love with Jungkook your freshmen year of high school. He had taken you to winter formal after Yoongi Min dumped you with no explanation. Of course, you were surprised when Jungkook broke his date with Seulgi Kang to take you.

You danced the entire night and then he walked you home. You still remembered how often you thought about him in that suit that night. He looked so good all dressed up and matching you. When you got to my door, he smiled his brace-face smile at you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before telling you goodnight and walking off.

That's when he had you. You started to notice things about Jungkook that you're not supposed to notice about your best friend. The subtle dimples on his cheeks that appeared only when he smiled real wide. How he snorted quietly if he laughed too hard. That tiny vein that stuck out on his forehead whenever he was pissed. How he treated his baby sister like a little princess.

Each time noticing something new, you fell deeper in love with him – until it was too late. You were in too deep and you had no idea what to do.

It had been years since that first realization. Nine to be exact. You had kept your feelings a secret for nine whole years. Now he was engaged. To his soulmate as he liked to call her. You liked to stick to just referring to her as the 'stupid bitch that stole my best friend'.

Her name was Eunae. Eunae Choi. She looked like a freaking Victoria Secret model. Long pin straight jet black hair, porcelain smooth skin, high cheek bones and an amazing body. On top of that she was a genius. She was working on her Master's in Psychology.

It was no wonder he fell for her.

“Hand me the banana peppers,” Jungkook nodded his head towards the jar and you slowly reached for it. It had been a long while since we had a pizza-building-movie-bingeing-sleepover.

You figured it had been just as long as him and Eunae had been together. What was it? Two years, five months and thirteen days? Yeah, but who's counting?

“Can you believe I'm getting married in a week?” Jungkook spoke as he scattered the peppers around the pie.

“Hardly.” He only mentioned it every half hour.

“You got your best ladies' speech ready?” Having Jungkook ask you to be his best man but call it a best lady was the epitome of friend zone. You nearly cried yourself to sleep after that. Nodding your head, you plucked a pepper from the jar and shoving it into your mouth.

“Eunae sent you the dresses, right? She wanted you to wear a bridesmaid's dress even though you're not one of the bridesmaids, it would just make more sense.” Eunae had sent the picture to you and that entire sentence. You nodded once again.

You loved the dress. It was a dusty rose long halter neck dress. “I still can't fucking believe it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as he pushed the pizza into the oven. He tapped a few things on the screen before coming to sit next to you.

“Have you found a plus one yet?” The two of them were threatening you with the single's table if you didn't find someone to bring to this wedding. The thing was, you didn't want a date. It would just be a waste of time to find one. It wasn't like you would even be interested.

You honestly hated yourself for not speaking up when you had the chance. You should've just sucked it up and admitted your feelings to him. Maybe he would've rejected you but you wouldn't be in this situation that you were in right now. Watching him get married to someone you knew he loves while you're sitting there in love with him. It was pathetic.

“No, I'm gonna go stag and I'm completely okay with it,” You put extra emphasis on the last bit hoping he'd get the hint.

“Alright, alright. Go pick the first movie, I'm going to give Eunae a quick call.” You almost rolled your eyes. Of course he'd find a way to bring her into your night. Plastering a smile on your face you headed into the living room, scrolling through the movies on Netflix before deciding on a comedy.

You waited for him with the bowl of popcorn in your lap. Jungkook didn't find his way back into the living room until twenty minutes had passed. He sat down beside you, stealing the popcorn off of your lap before shoveling a handful into his mouth.

“What did you pick?” He spoke through his mouthful.

“Sausage Party.” You laughed as Jungkook's eyes widened. “That movie is so bad!” He chuckled, leaning back against the cushions and turning his attention to the screen.

As the movie progressed, Jungkook had managed to pull you against him. Your pizza laid half eaten on the coffee table and the popcorn bowl empty. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, the tips of his fingers tickling the skin on your bare arm.

Him doing things like this is what fucked you up in the first place. Shifting away from him, you tried to calm the racing of your heart. He gave you a weird look, confusion written all over his face.

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing,”

He looked as if he wanted to say something else but refrained from doing so. You watched the rest of the movie in silence.

All these thoughts were bubbling in your head. You wanted to tell him, you wanted him to know how you felt about him before he went and got married. You couldn't form a sentence for the life of you, though.

Would it be wrong? To tell him this ten days before his wedding? What if he changed his mind? What if he called the entire thing off? What if he changed his mind? What if he called the entire thing off?

You sighed, watching as he turned the couch into a makeshift bed, dusting the popcorn bits off and onto the floor. “You heading into your room?” When you were younger he use to sleep up in your room with you. Then puberty hit and morning wood became a thing. It was safer for everyone if you slept in separate areas.

“In a little bit,” You paused, eyeing him as he laid back on the cushions. “Why? Are you tried?” You questioned and he shook his head.

“Nope.” A smirk grew on his face. “Remember when I dared you to streak around the dorm?” Of course you remembered that shit. You tripped and fell into a pile of mud. Had dirt in your cooch for days.

“Yes, why?” You laid my body down beside his, staring up at the ceiling as he spoke.

“Jimin Park saw that. He thought you were hot and asked if you were single. You weren't at the time but now you are. Would you like me to give him a call? Maybe he could be your plus one?” He suggested and you scoffed.

“No thank you.” Jimin was the king of the douche bags. Fraternity president and ignorant as fuck. You wouldn't waste a second on him.

“I don't want you to have to go alone,”

“I am choosing to go alone, Koo. If I wanted a date, I would've gotten one.” It was lost on you why he was making out of you bringing a date. Him and his bride wouldn't leave you alone about it.

“Okay, fine.” He made it seem like he was letting it go, but he was far from letting anything go.

“You're gorgeous, you know that right, Y/N? Any guy would be lucky to have you if you just gave one a chance...” You glared at him, warning him to shut up about it. You were in no mood to hear this speech for the thousandth time.

“In all the years that I've known you, you've only ever had one real boyfriend and that was a few years ago.” He pointed out. “Guys approach you too, I've seen it. Why don't you give any of them a chance?”

You sighed, running my hands over your face. “I'm just not interested.” This had become a mantra of yours.

“Yeah, but why not?”

“They're not my type.”

“You have a type?” He sounded surprised, a chuckle dying on his lips.

“Yes, I have a type.” You were quickly growing annoyed with this conversation.

“No you don't.”

You scoffed. “Yes, I do.”

“What's your type then?”

“You.” The word left your mouth before you could pull it back. Jungkook was sitting up, staring down at you with wide eyes.

“What did you just say?” He sat there staring at you. Your heart was beating in your ears. Slowly, you were sitting yourself up. Preparing yourself for what was to come next, there was no backing out now. You needed to finish what you started.

“You. You're my type, Jungkook. I'm in love with you, I have always been,” You could feel your throat closing up. But you weren't able to stop the word vomit from tumbling from between your lips.

He sat there silent for a minute. You just dropped something huge and the impact was written all over his face. He opened his mouth as if he finally came up with an answer, did that twice before his face furrowed in confusion.

“You're in love with me?” He repeated, just to clarify. You nodded.

Jungkook just continued to stare at you. Forcing your eyes shut, you cleared your throat. You couldn't look at him. There it was right on his face, how much he didn't love you. Had you expected him to admit the same, call off the wedding so you could ride off into the sunset? Yeah, right.

Maybe.

You started to head towards the stairs, quickly coming to my senses. He was getting married! “Holy shit, forget I said anything... I-I...I don't know what I was thinking. I'm going to head up,” Avoiding his gaze you rushed towards the stairs and into your room, slamming the door shut.

Overwhelmed with humiliation and the sting of rejection, tears began to stream down your face which only intensified when you heard the front door slam.

Ten days had went by and you hadn't heard anything from Jungkook. A brief message from Eunae this morning was what confirmed that you were still invited to this stupid party. You got dressed in the bridesmaid's dress, did your own hair and makeup and showed up at the church minutes before the start.

Not wanting to leave any time to mingle.

It was unbelievably hard to stand there with a smile on your face as you watched them recite their vows, staring all lovingly in each others' eyes with these dopey smiles on their faces. 'I do's' were said and they were kissing.

Not the sloppy wolfish kiss that they often displayed in front of their friends, this one was elegant one that dragged an 'awe' from the lips of the crowd. You inwardly rolled your eyes.

Your speech was quick and extremely general. You avoided getting into too much detail and you didn't tell any stories. It was the type of speech you could copy and paste and recite at any wedding. You weren't up for anything else.

Nursing your third glass of Chardonnay, Jungkook approached you. “How you holding up?” You felt yourself swaying, but you were certain you were standing still.

“I'm fine,” Another mantra.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I liked your speech,” He tried.

You laughed. “Okay,” Gulping down the rest of your drink, you set the empty glass down on the table. “I'm going to grab a cab. Great party,” You commented, shooting him a thumbs up before exiting the hall.

It was raining very hard. You were soaked the second you stepped outside. Not letting that slow you down, you made your way to the sidewalk, calling for a taxi. A hand on your shoulder stopped you from entering the first one that pulled up.

“Why are you pissed at me?” Jungkook stood, tux soaked and hair sticking to his face.

“I'm not,”

“Yes you are, Y/N. I know when you're pissed.” He spat. “Did you expect me to call off the wedding?”

“No,” Yes.

“I'm sorry. I hate that this hurts you but you got to understand how I feel about Eunae. She's it for me, you know? I wish that it didn't hurt you so bad,” He looked sincere, it honestly hurt him that he was hurting you.

Now you felt bad. “You deserve to be happy, Koo. You shouldn't have to apologize. It's just hard to see you with her... I'm just going to stay away for a little bit,” You actually planned to stay away for more than a little bit.

Yesterday morning you were getting a call about a job in Boston. It paid a lot more than the job that you had now and it was actually related to what I=you got a degree for in the first place.

“Okay,” He was so understanding. How can someone break your heart and make it swell all at the same time? “I love you, Y/N.” You nodded, knowing the exact way that he meant. You called for another cab, slipping in without him stopping you.

Telling the driver your address, I sat back against the seats. You forced yourself not to look back. He wasn't going to be standing there waving you off. This wasn't like a movie. He wasn't going to realize that he had been in love with you all along and you'd live happily ever after. Nope.

Jungkook was to go back inside, dry off and live his life with his perfect wife. You were to go to Boston, study the behavior of the animals and their environment and that was it. Maybe you'd cross paths in the future, but for now – that was it.

1K notes · View notes

dramapic · 4 years ago

Text

MASTERLIST

I update this list everytime I watch and review a show.

Disclaimer: These reviews are subjective and only reflect my opinions. There are no drama on that list that I’ve turned off and all are worthy of a watch.

Recs welcome!

#1 Crash landing on you

(사랑의 불시착)

Grade: A++

Genre: Modern, Star-Crossed lovers

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Son Ye-jin (who plays Yoon Se-ri) and Hyun Bin (Ri Jeong-hyeok) have amazing chemistry and every episode plays out like the chapters of an excellent fanfiction. Classic romantic tropes, humour, angst, action, CLOY has it all. Moreover, if you’ve never watched a Kdrama in your life, CLOY is a great starting point—not only will it introduce you to Korean culture but also to popular tropes and codes of the genre.

#2 Rookie historian Goo Hae-ryung

(신입사관 구해령)

Grade: A++

Genre: Historical, Age gap

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Delightful from end to end, with lots of humour and an engaging story. The romance between Goo Hae-ryung and himbo-prince Dowon will make your heart go soft, especially if you’re into reverse gender dynamics (she’s older and kisses him first *le gasp*)

#3 Memories of the Alhambra

(알함브라 궁전의 추억)

Grade: B+

Genre: Modern; Sci-fi; Fantasy

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: No

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Intriguing premise, great cast and tons of special effects but the romance between Jin-woo (Hyun Bin) and Hee-joo (Park Shin-hye) won't go down in history. On top of that, the ending is a bit wishy-washy in that annoying “maybe there’s more to come” kind of way. Give us a clear cut ending, damnit!

#4 Good doctor

(굿 닥터)

Grade: B-

Genre: Modern, Medical drama

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Good heart but the writing is really clumsy at times and the hospital politics don’t make an awful lot of sense. On the bright side, Joo Won is great in the role of Park Si-on.

Note: I haven’t watched the American remake so can’t compare.

#5 My love from the star/ You from the stars

(별에서 온 그대)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern, Sci-fi, fantasy, Star-Crossed lovers

Episodes: 21

Happy Ending: Yes-ish

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Jun Ji-hyun is absolutely stellar in the role of Cheon Seong-yi, a ditzy Hallyu* star whose career is going south while Kim Soo-hyun plays the emotionally closed-off alien to perfection. Lots of pinning, a dose of angst mixed with a pinch of wacky humor.

*Hallyu means “Korean wave” in Chinese and refers to the popularity and spreading of Korean pop-culture outside of Korea.

#6 Hwarang The Poet Warrior Youth

(화랑)

Grade: B

Genre: Historical, Coming of age, fake siblings who catch feels

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Cute boys and interesting lore rooted in true facts (the bone rank system and the real Hwarang, the “Flowering Knights” of the Silla kingdom) but the story drags. I guess I expected more bromance and frolicking and less angst. Lastly, the main girl starts off quirky and fun but they quickly transform her into a sobbing mess which becomes real annoying real fast.

#7 Love in the Moonlight / Moonlight Drawn by Clouds (구르미 그린 달빛)

Grade: A

Genre: Historical, Romance, Coming of age, Posing as the opposite sex

Episodes: 18

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

A classic tale of a girl raised as a boy who ends up in a situation where she needs to do her best to not blow her cover while catching feels (As someone raised on Versailles no bara and Ribbon no Kishi, it remains one of my favourite tropes)

Sweet romance and good characters. The fact that Crown prince Lee Yeong doesn't turn emo when he starts developing feelings for Eunuch Ra-on before discovering she's a girl is the cherry on top of the cake.

#8 Something in the rain

(밥 잘 사주는 예쁜 누나)

Grade: C

Genre: Modern

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes, but it still doesn't make you happy

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Wasted potential!

Great start but the characterization falls apart quickly and you end up wondering why the main characters keep sabotaging their lives. By the end, despite their reunion, you're left with the impression they've learned nothing and that their relationship is doomed to fall apart.

On top of it all, watching Jin-ah fight sexism in the workplace and gaining nothing is depressing af (I don’t need realism in my escapism, thank you very much).

Too bad because Son Ye-jin and Jung Hae-in look really good together and the acting is top-notch. My advice is to watch the first 8 episodes then make up your own ending in your head.

#9 Moon embracing the sun

(해를 품은 달)

Grade: B+

Genre: Historical,Star-Crossed lovers

Episodes: 22

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

A traditional historical drama with all the tropes that go with the genre + a hint of esoterism.

If you love ill-fated relationships, tragic love triangle, evil queens, and amnesia, this is the show for you. Beware, the interrogation/torture scenes are rather brutal.

#10 My sassy girl

(엽기적인 그녀)

Grade: B-

Genre: Historical, Rom-Com

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Cute and lighthearted but easily forgettable. Still worth a watch thanks to Joo Won & Oh Yeon-seo's chemistry.

#11 Coffee Prince

(커피프린스 1호점)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern, Posing as the opposite sex

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Solid story, great cast but be ready for a lot of bickering.

Yoon Eun-hye is a precious bean who manages to sell the story of Eun-chan, a struggling androgynous working-class girl who mistakenly gets hired by a rich guy to play his boyfriend, then becomes his employee, then falls for him while not correcting his assumptions about her gender. Opposite her, Gong Yoo (from Train to Busan fame) is 🥰🥰🥰

Sidenote: Despite Han-kyul's struggle to accept his feelings for Eun-chan, homosexuality isn't treated as a joke or a shameful thing. The one time he goes seek “medical help”, the doctor is depicted as an old, clueless idiot. And honestly, the story would work too if Eun-chan was a guy.

#12 My girlfriend is a Gumiho/My girlfriend is a Nine-tailed fox

(내 여자친구는 구미호)

Grade: B+

Genre: Modern; Fantasy

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Viki - Available on Netflix (FR) too

Campy and goofy. It does look a bit dated (it’s from 2010) and the story is a little predictable but Lee Seung-gi as Cha Dae-woong, an aspiring action film actor and Shin Min-ah as “Gu Mi-ho” the nine-tailed fox looking for a mate are super cute. The show is also a good introduction to Korean folklore.

#13 Goblin / Guardian: The Lonely and Great God / The Lonely and Great God – Goblin

(쓸쓸하고 찬란하神 – 도깨비)

Grade: A+

Genre: Modern, Historical, Fantasy, bromance

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes-ish

Watched on: Viki

Unpopular opinion but since I’m not into older guys, I wasn’t invested in the romance between Bride and Goblin until late in the series. I loved everything else though. The show has such a unique tone and atmosphere. It goes from super serious to goofy in no time. The cinematography is gorgeous (especially the historical sets) and you'll cry your eyes out.

#14 Healer

(힐러)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

If you're into toll broody guys and fearless smoll girls, you’ll love Healer. The story is great, the characters are great and the way Jung-hu (played by Ji Chang-wook) and Ji-an (Park Min-young) are horny for each other is peak drama! *chef kiss*

#15 Kangchi the beginning/Gu family book

(구가의 서)

Grade: B-

Genre: Historical, Fantasy

Episodes:

Happy Ending: No

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Engaging coming of age story of a half-human half-gumiho looking for his place in this world. If it wasn't for the wishy-washy ending it could have been the perfect mix of action fantasy and romance.

Special mention for Dam Yeo-wool (played by Suzie Bae) who is a female character who's allowed to be a bit of everything at the same time (strong, kick-ass, funny, cute, romantic)

#16 Queen for seven days

(7일의 왕비)

Grade: A

Genre: Historical, Romance, Villainous crush

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: No

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

With that title don’t expect a HEA but there are plenty of sweet moments along the way to make you appreciate the journey.

Chae-kyung loves the Prince and the Prince loves Chae-kyung but the King wants to kill the Prince and Chae-kyung is loyal to the King but the King is a tyrant and everyone wants the Prince to take his throne. On top of that the King wants Chae-kyung. Big mess. Lots of feels.

The story is (very) loosely based on real-life Queen Dangyeong, which makes it even more poignant. I cried my eyes out at the end because I’m a big softy.

#17 Korean Odyssey

(화유기)

Grade: A-

Genre: Modern, Fantasy

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Kinda

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

The show (very loosely based on Journey to the West) has its faults including the wishy-washy ending and the fact that Jin Seon-mi/Sam-jang starts off as a doormat but I ended up liking the relationship developing between the assholish Monkey god and the naive human girl more than I expected.

The side characters are compelling, and the banter and bickering between the deities work really well. If you grew up with Dragon ball, you’ll have a blast trying to match-up the Japanese and Korean names of everyone without looking up Wikipedia.

Lastly, not something I imagined saying after seeing him in Gumiho and Gu family book but Lee Seung-gi as Son Oh-gong = BDE *fans herself* 🥵

#18 Strong Girl Bong-soon

(힘쎈여자 도봉순)

Grade: A-

Genre: Modern, Super-Heroine

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Trigger warning: Graphic depiction of violence against women

A++ super-heroine story, bad side characters

First, every girl should aspire to find a Min-hyuk in their life. Someone who'll love them because of their strength, and support them unconditionally. Someone who won't ask them to change or pretend to be somebody else.

Second, western media should learn that a super-heroine can HAVE IT ALL—the superpowers AND the love AND the family.

My only complaint with the show (and that's why I gave A- instead of A++) is the inclusion of many cringy side characters/situations that spoiled my overall enjoyment (see the caricatural flamboyant gay co-worker, Bong-soon’s mom hitting her dad, the mobsters...)

#19 The K2

(더 케이투)

Grade: B-

Genre: Modern, Political

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

The romance is bad and the political story far-fetched but Ji Chang-wook is 🔥🔥PEAK HOTTIE🔥🔥

That being said, I didn’t completely dislike the political intrigue and it was interesting to see the good guy working for the villains (sort of).

#20 Weightlifting fairy Kim Bok-joo

(역도요정 김복주)

Grade: A+

Genre: Modern, Coming of age

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Uplifting coming of age story and super sweet romance. Bok-joo (Lee Sung-kyung) & Joon-hyung (Nam Joo-hyuk) are precious children on top of being cutie-patooties. Bok-joo’s insecurities hit hard, especially if you’ve ever been outside the norm of beauty standards.

I liked how the show normalizes therapy and taking care of your mental health.

In one word…

SWAG!

#21 The scholar who walks the night

(밤을 걷는 선비)

Grade: B

Genre: Historical, Fantasy, Vampire, posing as the opposite sex

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Guilty pleasure.

Don’t ask me about the details of the main storyline, I’ve already forgotten most of it. Sometimes all you need is a show where a hundred-something years old good vampire with a sad backstory and the main girl who is thirsty for the good vampire are fighting a sexy evil vampire.

PS: Did I mention the sexy evil vampire?

#22 Romance is a bonus book

(로맨스는 별책부록)

Grade: A+

Genre: Modern, Friends to lovers

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Imagine reading a relaxing book under a cozy blanket while sipping hot cocoa. That’s how that series made me feel.

Everything is sweet and soft from the characters' fluffy jumpers to the soft palette of color used for the sets. People make books and love books. There’s a mystery but no unnecessary angst. If you need a break from everything, jump in that ship.

#23 Hotel Del Luna

(호텔 델루나)

Grade: A-

Genre: Modern

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Sorta

Watched on: Viki - Available on Netflix (FR) too

Interesting world-building and a good cast of side characters but the romance lacks a bit of oomph.

On the + side, the hotel sets are gorgeous and Man-wol's wardrobe is to kill for.

#24 Suspicious Partner

(수상한 파트너)

Grade: A-

Genre: Modern, Star-crossed lovers in an office

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Toll serious who hates criminal falls for smoll weirdo falsely accused of murder. A must watch for anyone in search of a quirky romance.

#25 Touch your heart

(진심이 닿다)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Viki

Tooth rotting sweetness. The series is just a pretext to watch two good looking people (Lee Dong-wook and Yoo In-na) being nice and awkward around each other. What do you need more? 0

Note: If you watched Goblin you can also pretend it's a spin-off series about the reincarnations of Grim Reaper and Sunny. 💡

#26 Because this is my first life

(이번 생은 처음이라)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern, Fake marriage

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

The Fake Marriage AU you’re looking for, mixed with slices of modern, messy, complicated life.

The main storyline revolves around Ji-ho an assistant drama screenwriter who struggles to find her place within the patriarchal structure of Korean society, and Se-hee, a socially incompetent computer designer who only cares for his cat and his mortgage. The way they end up in a fake marriage as well as the development of their relationship feels organic and doesn’t rely too heavily on comedy like it’s often the case with that trope.

The show also follows the stories of Ji-ho’s friends, Su-ji and Ho-rang who have different aspirations in life—Su-ji’s goal is to become CEO while Ho-rang only cares about becoming a housewife. I loved that the show makes a point to not pit women against each other and advocate living your life the way YOU want rather than trying to follow societal expectations of what love, work and marriage should look like.

Also they have the cutest cat.

#27 What's wrong with Secretary Kim?

(김비서가 왜 그럴까 )

Grade: A-

Genre: Modern

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Viki

I wish Secretary Kim had more agency in certain situations but the romance develops well and the horny moments are caliente 🥵🔥

#28 Where your eyes linger

(너의 시선이 머무는 곳에)

Grade: A++

Genre: Modern, BL, Coming of age, Friends to lovers

Episodes: 8

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Viki

Bite-size BL gem to devour in one sitting.

Stellar acting from the two leads and the balance between fluff and angst is just right. There's no graphic violence that sometimes plagues yaoi and BL and the story is believable. I got emo remembering my first love.

#29 Live up to your name

(명불허전)

Grade: A-

Genre: Modern, Historical, Time travel, Star-crossed lovers

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Trigger warning for graphic depiction of violence

Big surprise. I was looking for a cheesy comedy but it was actually a thoughtful story about humanism. I even teared up a little.

Trigger warning for needles. They do some pretty impressive procedures with those acupuncture needles.

#30 W - Two Worlds Apart

(더블유)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Imaginary men > Real men, especially when they're played by Lee Jong-suk. Nuf’ said.

Imaginary men > Real men, especially when they're played by Lee Jong-suk.

The silly premise hides a solid story that keeps you on your toes and I was suprised by the rollercoaster of emotions I went through.

“Option 3″

“That’s 4 fingers”

#31 Life

(라이프)

Grade: C

Genre: Modern

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Kinda

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Unless you want to learn how fucked up the private health sector is becoming in Korea, there's not much to gain watching this show.

The story starts off well though. The problem is that by the middle of the series the writers have dropped the main mystery (the circumstances surrounding the death of the director) to deliver an exposé on the political machinations of big corporations, and then shoehorn an explanation at the last minute (“it was all but a misunderstanding”). Very underwhelming.

The relationship between the two brothers played by Lee Dong-wook and Lee Kyu-hyung is the only bright spot.

#32 Pinocchio

(피노키오)

Grade: A-

Genre: Modern, Fake family members who catch feels

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

On paper, the story sounds a little crazy but it all comes together nicely.

Lee Jong-suk and Park Shin-hye have great chemistry and deliver a stellar performance as “uncle” and “niece” (not related by blood) who can’t fight the romantic feelings they harbor for one another. The main storyline has enough twists to keep you entertained and surprised.

My only complaint is that it drags a little. 16 episodes would have been enough.

#33 My Holo Love

(나 홀로 그대)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern, Sci-fi

Episodes: 12

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Fake men > Real men

Imagine a Black Mirror episode about a love triangle between a woman suffering from face blindness, an emotionally supportive AI boyfriend and the disenchanted creator of said AI, minus the nihilism. *chef kiss*

#34 Legend of the blue sea

(푸른 바다의 전설)

Grade: B++

Genre: Modern, Fantasy, Fairy tale, Star-crossed lovers

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Viki

Park Ji-eu (the writer) read the little mermaid and decided to give her a happy ending. Great chemistry between Lee Min-ho and Jun Ji-hyun but the spark is missing for me.

The antics of modern-day mermaid Shim Cheong are a little predictable and Joon-jae needs to be less of a control freak at times but the story remains enjoyable. I was pleasantly surprised to see Shim Cheong’s character grow, making the power imbalance between the clueless mermaid and the con-artist less pronounced by the end of the series.

The side characters are interesting but underused, and I wish Tae-oh was more developed. On the other hand, the Joseon area sets and costumes are absolutely gorgeous (Don’t tell anyone but Joseon!Lee Min-ho is hotter than Modern!Lee Min-ho 🥵)

#35 Tale of Arang / Arang and the Magistrate

(아랑사또전)

Grade: B

Genre: Historical, Fantasy,

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

One word: Campy.

Interesting lore but the pacing is a little off—there’s a lot of back and forth between the characters and the locations and the love triangle doesn't add much.

#36 My ID is Gangnam Beauty / Gangnam Beauty

(내 아이디는 강남미인)

Grade: A+

Genre: Modern, Coming of age

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

If you’ve ever been bullied for your looks, you’re gonna bawl your eyes out.

The show does a great job of calling out the unhealthy beauty standards imposed on Korean women but the topic is universal enough for the story to resonate with everyone. I love that you never see Mi-rae’s old face because it’s not our perception of her lack of beauty that matters but the fact she suffers greatly. Don’t you hate in western shows when they take a beautiful actress, give her a pair of glasses or a fat suit and call her ugly, making sure the audience feels shittier about themselves? Here, the writers concentrate on Mi-rae’s transformation and her coping with the consequences of her decision to do plastic surgery.

It’s also not a revenge fantasy where the ugly duckling suddenly becomes the most popular girl at school. Being a “Gangnam beauty” leads to a new form of suffering.

Romance-wise, it’s the slowest burn of slow burns because Mi-rae and Do Kyung-seok are the most socially awkward beans on the planet. I love them, Your Honor.

#37 Tale of Nokdu

(조선로코-녹두전)

Grade: A

Genre: Historical, Posing as the opposite sex

Episodes: 32 x 30mns

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Viki - Now available on Netflix (FR)

Fun and lighthearted all the way through.

The story of a guy who puts on a dress to investigate a village of widows could have gone very wrong but it was well handled. It’s refreshing to see the classic trope of posing as the opposite sex reversed and Jang Dong-yoon is never cringy when he’s pretending to be Lady Kim Nok-soon.

#38 Bride of Habaek / Bride of the Water God

(하백의 신부 2017)

Grade: B

Genre: Modern, Fantasy

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Content warning: Crime against fashion

Promising premise and lore (I'm interested in reading the original comics now) but the writing fails to deliver an epic romance and a cathartic ending. Moreover, the sets lack imagination (or money?) and in the end I failed to ever feel immersed in a fantasy world.

The unfortunate consequence of the clumsy writing is that the male characters who are meant to be arrogant/confident Gods (Habaek and By-ryeom) sound like they're negging their love interests more than wooing them, and the relationship between Mu-ra and By-ryeom particularly irked me.

#39 Strangers from Hell / Hell is other people

(타인은 지옥이다)

Grade: A+

Genre: Modern, Psychological Thriller

Episodes: 10

Happy Ending: Spoiler

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Content warning: Violence

What a departure from everything else in that list! Absolutely worth a watch if you enjoy thrillers and shows like Hannibal. If psychological horror isn’t your cup of tea though, you might give it a pass.

The storyline and the characters are a little cliché (it goes with the genre) but the cinematography and photography are fantastic. You can notice how the pension becomes more and more sinister throughout the series via the use of dark greens and browns and pale yellows, as opposed to the mundanity and coldness of the city (greys, and cold blues).

Last but not least, the acting is top-tiers. Im Siwan does a great job at portraying Jong-woo, an aspiring crime novelist who slowly loses his marbles but the true revelation for me is Lee Dong-wook. After seeing him so many times in roles where he plays awkward yet charming men who can barely express emotions, I was intrigued to see him take on the role of a serial killer, and holy cow, he's the perfect mix of sinister and alluring. Towards the end of the series, his character Moon-jo acts like a black-hole whenever he appears in a scene—a towering, dark presence who sucks the light out of the room (If he carries any of that darkness in the upcoming Tale of Gumiho, it’s gonna be *chef kiss*).

#40 Empress Ki

(기황후)

Grade: A

Genre: Historical, posing as the opposite sex

Episodes: 51

Happy Ending: From a certain point of view

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Trigger warning for violence against women (not graphic but implied)

51 episodes.

Fifty.One.Episodes.

That's a lot of episodes considering the story starts with the ending.

Did I enjoy this show? Yes, very much so. Do I think it's for everyone? Nope.

You'll enjoy Empress Ki if you're into old-school historical sagas or you wished Game of thrones had no gratuitous nudity and violence. If you’re looking for an historically accurate biography of the real empress Ki though, then look away because Empress Ki is basically a lengthy fanfiction trying to justify how the Goryeo native Seung-nyang married the wimpy Emperor of the Yuan dynasty whilst trying to portray her as loyal to her motherland and to her first love, the Crown Prince of Goryeo.

Personally, I didn’t care for the love triangle formed by Seung-nyang (Ha Ji-won), Wang-yoo (Joo Jin-mo) and Toghon Temür (Ji Chang-wook) but I liked the politics and the backstabbing. Also, contrary to GoT, the bad guys get their comeuppance at the end so it makes watching the side characters die less painful.

#41 Meow, the secret boy / Welcome

(어서와)

Grade: B-

Genre: Modern, Modern fantasy

Episodes: 24 x 35mns

Happy Ending: I guess

Watched on: Viki

How do I put it? It's not *terribad* but it's not *good* either.

I was super on board with the concept—if Lee Seung-gi can bang a nine-tailed fox in My girlfriend is a gumiho, I have zero issues with Sol ah, our heroine, falling in love with Hong-jo the cat-person after being dumped for no reason by Jae-sun her boyfriend—but it didn’t exactly develop that way, and as soon as they explained why Jae-sun had broken up with Sol-ah, the writers lost me because I like when things happen for a reason.

#42 Clean with a passion for now

(일단 뜨겁게 청소하라!!)

Grade: A-

Genre: Modern, Rom-Com

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Super zany and tropey but that’s why it works so well. The only reason I’m giving it a minus is because it’s trying to be woke but in the end there’s still a lot of unsolicited grabbing and some iffy remarks/pick-up lines said by every male characters (IRL that’s the kind of story that ends up with a restraining order and a lawsuit for sexual harassment).

#43 Mystic pop-up bar

(쌍갑포차)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern, Fantasy

Episodes: 12

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Trigger warning: Heavy themes (miscarriage, pregnancy, loss of a child, death of loved ones)

You know how the meme goes... Sometimes a family is a hot-tempered bar owner, a cursed kid and an ex-Afterlife-Police officer with a secret past.

It took me a few episodes to get into it, but once the characters were established it became really enjoyable.

The tone of the series leans toward wacky but the core of the story is actually pretty dark if you look into it. Every grudge they solve for their “clients” gives a clue about Wol-joo’s personal story and by the last episode I was crying my eyes out.

Last but not least, Wol-joo’s collection of modernized hanboks is *chef kiss*

#44 My secret Terrius

(내 뒤에 테리우스)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern, Action, Comedy, Bromance

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

An enjoyable action drama to watch with your family or your significant other.

Koreans prove that you can write a story about a black ops agent on the run who becomes a childminder without reeking of toxic masculinity. Contrary to American comedies where the manly-man-hero working undercover is incompetent and believes that working with children is a woman’s job and a waste of his manly-man talents until he has an epiphany of some sorts, Kim Bon (played by So Ji-sub) never once expresses discomfort to the idea of looking after two kids. In spite of his sober demeanor, he’s a caring and attentive person from the start and watching him gradually becoming a part of this spunky family while investigating a national security threat made my heart go awww.

Opposite him, fearless and resourceful mom Go Ae-rin (played Jung In-sun) brings a lot of energy, and the twins are absolutely adorable.

#45 Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo

(달의 연인 - 보보경심 려)

Grade: A--

Genre: Historical

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: No

Watched on: Random streaming site

Don’t get attached—Moon Lovers is the missing link between Empress Ki and Boys over flowers, but with a sad ending.

I did binge watch the series but there are some frustrating aspects to it that prevented me from giving a perfect score, notably the fact that Wang So remains possessive and demanding with Hae Soo throughout the years—for instance “You’re my person” is a romantic statement until it evolves into “You can never leave me.”

The other problem of the series is that Lee Ji-eun (UI) does cute and goofy really well, but she doesn’t have the emotional range needed to portray a character who goes through many heartbreaks and betrayals. As a result, Hae Soo appears a little fickle in her infatuations with the princes.

That being said if you’re a sucker for tragic romance and you believe that power corrupts even the purest of love, you’ll have a blast.

#46 Forest

(포레스트)

Grade: B++

Genre: Modern, Romance

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Viki

UST in the woods (Dat first kiss 🥵🥵🥵)

The characters and the story are a little cliché but who doesn’t love a story where the protagonists are clearly attracted to each other but can’t act on their desires because their moral values are opposite?

*slams fist*

San Hyeok is your typical heartless businessman who refuses to confront his childhood trauma, and Yeong Jae is a surgeon who suffers from panic attacks and cares too much about other people. They’re both good looking and fate brings them to a remote village in the middle of the forest where they have to share a house. Really, I wonder what’s gonna happen?

#47 100 Days My Prince / Hundred days husband

(백일의 낭군님)

Grade: B+

Genre: Historical

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Viki

Trigger warning: Important character death.

Cute and charming but also very annoying at times. Obviously, the story is tropey af (fake marriage doubled with amnesia, you can’t really beat that) but it also includes elements I’ve never seen in any other dramas like the fact that the Crown Princess is pregnant with another man’s child (le gasp!). The things that annoy me the most were the unnecessary flip-flopping of the heroine towards the end of the show for the sake of creating artificial drama (just let them be together FFS!) and the fact that the male characters take a lot of decisions for Yeon Hong-shim.

Romance wise, Do Kyung-soo and Nam Ji-hyun are really cute together but in the end I found myself more interested in the political intrigue and the side characters than the main romance because slow burn has its limit. In essence, it’s the perfect drama to watch with your conservative family because whilst the main couple is living under the same roof and is technically married they don’t get frisky.

#48 I Am Not A Robot (로봇이 아니야)

Grade: A++

Genre: Modern

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Angsty with a good pay-off.

With a premise like that, things could have gone wrong really quickly but the writers managed to write a story that isn’t a man wanting to fuck a robot because real women are scary so big kudos for them. Seeing Min-kyu celebrating his Roomba’s birthday because he has no other friends will instantly melt your heart and from that point on you’ll cheer for his recovery. The show has the right amount of angst without becoming a mess and they handle the big reveal very well, making sure to show how hurt both Min-kyu and Ji-ah are by the situation, without making you doubt that they can find each other again. The other strong point of the show is that it’s not just about romance, it’s also about friendship and learning to let other people in your life.

The acting is incredible to the point that by the end I wondered if Yoo Seung-ho and Chae Soo-bin were making out in front of my salad or if I was still watching the characters Min-kyu and Ji-ah being lovey dovey.

#49 Sungkyunkwan Scandal (성균관 스캔들)

Grade: A

Genre: Historical, Posing as the opposite gender

Episodes: 20

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Viki

Hana zakari no kimi tachi he with gats.

This show checks so many boxes when it comes to my favourite tropes story-wise and character-wise that I instantly fell in love with it. It might feel a little dated for a younger audience and it definitely suffers from the second male lead syndrome (who wants unseasoned boiled chicken when there are not just one but two juicy rotisserie chickens on the table next to you?!) but it’s still very much enjoyable. Also, they don’t shy away from using the word “homosexuality” and having one of the second lead confessing to having romantic feelings for his friend (I’ll take any scrap of bi-representation, okay?)

#50 It’s Okay to not be okay (사이코지만 괜찮아)

Grade: A

Genre: Modern

Episodes: 16

Happy Ending: Yes

Watched on: Netflix (FR)

Found family.

In spite of one ridiculous plot twist (that I was aware of when I started the show) this show has made me feel all the feelz. The three main actors all did a phenomenal job portraying their characters in all their complexity and fragility and I ended up crying so many cathartic tears in the second to last & the last episodes.The relationship between Sang-tae and Gang-tae is one of the best sibling relationships I’ve seen on-screen in a long time while the romance between Moon-yeong and Gang-tae blends perfectly elements of comedy and melodrama. Mental illness isn’t treated as something to be ashamed of, whilst showing that you can grow and recover from trauma and finding your own happiness.

PSA from my boyfriend, who dropped the show before the end:

The plot twist is so stupid that it takes away from the rest of the series. In my opinion it negated the positive portrayal of mental illness built up until then. They completely lost me.

^ We discussed a lot about it which is why I wanted to share his POV to balance my own review.

#51 coming soon

#k-drama #kdrama

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pepperedappels · 5 years ago

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SkekMal/Rek'yr Arranged Marriage AU

So I've had this AU in my head for a couple of days now but I've already got too much going on to actually write it so I'm just gonna stick it in a tumblr post

under the read more cuz this is long

So basically SkekSo decides that to strengthen their control over the Gelfling clans even more they will make each of the clans send a member of their respective Maudra's family to receive 'the high honor' of wedding one of their Lords.

The Skeksis need some convincing at first, most of them aren't exactly keen on the idea of being stuck with a Gelfling for an extended period of time but eventually they agree (if only because they know they can't go against their Emperor when he's come up with a new scheme). The only problem is none of them want to be married to a Dousan as they are known to be death worshipers.

Cue SkekSo deciding the Dousan bride will be gifted to SkekMal, if the Dousan enjoy death so much they will certainly get their fair share of it around the Hunter.

The Skeksis all have a good laugh at that, saying that the Dousan won't last a day with SkekMal. “In fact, the Hunter will probably kill them before the wedding night is through!”

Word is sent to the seven clans and plans for the upcoming nuptials are put into place.

SkekMal is none too pleased when he is summoned to the Castle only to be told he'll be marrying a Gelfling and a simpering little desert dweller to boot. He has no choice but to agree however, knowing that if he goes against the Emperor he will meet the same fate as the Heretic.

Meanwhile at the Crystal Desert the message has arrived with the Emperor's proclamation. Since Maudra Seethi has no siblings Rek'yr offers himself up for marriage in her place (it is my headcanon that Seethi and Rek'yr are cousins). She tries to convince him to change his mind but he won't. “You are Maudra, our people need you.”

Decision made Rek'yr sets off for the Castle the next day.

When he arrives at the Castle he finds the place in utter chaos, podlings and guards rushing about to get everything ready at the last minute. He's given directions to the throne room and takes his time getting there to explore the Castle for a bit.

The first Skeksis he encounters is Chamberlain.

“Dousan is here to be wed, yes? Come, come, Chamberlain will bring you to meet future husband! Hmmm.” Rek'yr follows until eventually they manage to locate the Hunter hiding out on a remote balcony.

“Ah, finally have found Hunter. Come, meet new bride, yes?”

SkekMal looks like he'd rather jump off the balcony but rises and walks over to tower over Rek'yr.

Rek'yr bows. “My Lord. It is an honor to meet you, I am Rek'yr of the Dousan clan, Sandma-- well, that is, *former* Sandmaster of the Southern Xeric.”

SkekMal just glares at him and turns to Chamberlain. “When will this whole charade be over with?”

“Tonight, hmmm. Gelfling and Skeksis wed tonight, is great celebration with large feast, yes.”

SkekMal growls and storms off without another word.

Rek'yr watches him go suddenly feeling a lot less certain about this whole thing after realizing the one he's supposed to be spending the rest of his life with clearly wants nothing to do with him.

“Hunter not most social of Skeksis, is pity. Come, Chamberlain take you to get ready, hmmm.”

Rek'yr is brought to a large room where he is whisked off by a couple of attendants to be bathed and dolled up for the ceremony and before he knows it he's brought to the throne room to get married.

The ceremony is over in a blur. Rek'yr and SkekMal stand across from each other, say their 'I do's' as the Emperor ties their hands together and then it is done. The moment SkekSo removes the strip of fabric binding their hands SkekMal storms off to stalk around at the edge of the room, his bad mood so palpable no one tries to approach him.

They are seated beside each other at the feast but the Hunter doesn't say a word to him all evening, just tears into his food and ignores all of Rek'yr's attempts at conversation.

The moment the Emperor announces they are free to retire for the rest of the evening (wishing them a very 'pleasant' night) SkekMal is gone, Rek'yr having to hurry to keep up with him as he follows him out of the Castle.

“Where are we going, my Lord?”

“Don't call me that.” SkekMal growls.

Rek'yr hesitates, then says, “...Husband.”

SkekMal whips around to glare at him. “Not that either!”

Rek'yr's brows furrow as he starts to get annoyed. “Then what should I call you?”

“Hunter.”

“You want me to call you by your title even though we are married?”

SkekMal scoffs, “Just because the Emperor forced me to go along with that damn charade doesn't mean anything to me, don't expect me to treat you any differently than the rest of your pathetic kind. Now keep up or I'm leaving you behind.”

Rek'yr silently follows behind the Hunter until they arrive at a cave. “Get in.”

Rek'yr walks in, looking around the rather spacious cave until his eyes land on the pile of furs that passes for a bed.

Rek'yr swallows, suddenly nervous. He's no virgin but SkekMal is practically a stranger to him despite the fact that they are now married. He's not exactly looking forward to this but he knows what is expected of him, knew it when he agreed to do this.

Rek'yr starts to take off his clothes when he is interrupted by SkekMal.

“What are you doing?”

Rek'yr gave him a look that said *isn't it obvious?* “...Undressing, my Lo... Hunter.”

“I have no interest in taking you against your will.” SkekMal says, turning to stoke a fire.

Rek'yr frowns, staring at the Hunter's back in confusion. “But... I am willing. It is our wedding night and it is expected that we--”

The Hunter is up and towering over him in an instant. “It is expected that I fuck you bloody until you can't even stand much less walk so you won't be able to run away, is that what you want?”

Rek'yr swallows. “No.”

“Then get on the bed and sleep.” SkekMal huffs, moving over to the other side of the cave and sitting against the wall.

After that outburst Rek'yr puts up no protest, crawling under the furs.

“What about you?” Rek'yr asks, feeling bad that he's taken the Hunter's bed when SkekMal could just as easily have made him sleep on the floor.

“I can pass the night without sleep, now be silent.”

Rek'yr looks at the Hunter for a long time before eventually closing his eyes, breathing in the scent of the Hunter's musk that lingered on the furs (which was actually quite pleasant).

“Goodnight, Hunter.”

SkekMal huffs and says nothing.

Of course they would eventually grow closer and start to fall for each other. It probably starts off with SkekMal going hunting and Rek'yr refusing to be left behind to sit around in the cave all day so he tags along.

SkekMal complains about it at first until he learns Rek'yr is a skilled tracker and hunter in his own right. Rek'yr never complains about the harsh pace the Hunter sets and doesn't get squeamish at the sight of the corpses SkekMal drags back, in fact Rek'yr even offers to help with them. It gets to a point where after a hunt SkekMal will wordlessly drop his latest kill at Rek'yr's feet and Rek'yr will skin the creature and take the meat to be prepared, leaving the bones for the Hunter to take his trophy from.

Sometimes Rek'yr will even take the bones the Hunter doesn't want to make into charms. The first time SkekMal sees Rek'yr stringing a handful of bones together intrigues him enough to ask what the Dousan is doing. Rek'yr explains what the charms are for, how the bones offer not just protection and strength but can also be used for things like health and luck. SkekMal is pleased Rek'yr is using his kills (though at this point he's unconsciously started referring to them as *their* kills) to make his own trophies.

Rek'yr offers to fashion him some charms and SkekMal doesn't refuse, wearing them with his other trophies.

So they settle into an almost domestic day to day life but even after they've been married for almost a full thrine they still haven't slept together. They both have feelings for each other but both are reluctant to take the first step.

Until one day while they're out on a hunt one or both of them gets a little too close to a creature's claws for comfort making them realize how close they came to almost losing the other and how they can't envision their life without them in it anymore.

They retire for bed in silence, both with heavy thoughts on their minds.

They've taken to sharing a bedroll (because Rek'yr insisted SkekMal shouldn't have to sleep on the floor about a week into their marriage) and as Rek'yr turns around to face SkekMal he finds the Hunter still awake and looking at him.

Their eyes meet and hold, something charged that has been building between them for unum finally reaching its breaking point. Rek'yr puts his hand on the Hunter's chest and starts to move it down slowly, giving SkekMal every chance to stop him.

He doesn't.

They undress each other without saying a word until they're both naked with Rek'yr on his back and SkekMal above him between his spread legs.

Before they can take the final step SkekMal asks “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Rek'yr nods. “It is. What about you, do you want this, want me?”

SkekMal caresses Rek'yr's face. “I have wanted you for a long time now.”

Rek'yr leans into his palm. “Then take me.”

And then they bone 🤣

So yeah that's it

This idea wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out but I've already got so many fics I haven't finished yet so at least this way it exists as a semi-fic in the world instead of just in my head

#skekmal #rek'yr #skekmal/rek'yr #sandhunter #The Dark Crystal #the dark crystal age of resistance #my fics #sorta

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theherondaels · 5 years ago

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Mamma Mia

Mamma Mia Au for @ac-ars. Or how many song references can I make. Hint: Too many. I regret nothing.

1. Does Your Mother Know?

The reunion of Stella and Lola was probably heard by all of Sicily. “Lola, I can’t believe you’re finally here, there’s so much I have to tell you.” Stella gushed as she ran over the small beach pier. “I missed you too, chiquitita.” Lola grinned down at her. While Stella was excited seeing her best friend since their last summer in Argentina, she didn’t let that hated nickname mention slide, slapping her upper arm lightly as they hugged.

Lola looked at the reddening spot. “I used almost a full bottle of sun screen and you do this? I can’t look like a lobster on your wedding day!” Maybe a beach dress in a lighter colour would have done the trick too.

“And now the real reason I came here,” Lola had taken a hold of her hand, inspecting Stella’s engagement ring on her left finger. “It’s even prettier up close. And a ruby, no less. Andrés sure did his homework.” Lola said impressed. She still hadn’t let go of her hand, going on and on about the stone and cut of the ring.

“It looks so expensive. Really, I look at it and think money, money, money.” Stella laughed at that. “I would be appalled otherwise.” She had actually had yelled a chorus of several yes’ at Andrés before he even had the chance to show her the ring, or finish his speech, for that matter.

“How’s Argentina?” Stella asked, as she and Lola walked up to the house she was living with her mom. “Same old, same old,” Lola told her. “That’s why I’m here. It’s so boring back home since Ofelia and Luis moved out. I need someone I can annoy.”

“I’m the bride. I’m off limits.” Stella said immediately. “Yeah, yeah,” Lola waved her hand dismissively.

“What about you? Any other life changing events?”

Stella couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m inviting my dad to the wedding.” The words just had bursted out of her. “You what?” Lola asked shocked, “also, your mother told you? I always thought she didn’t know herself.”

To be fair, Luna Valente was all over the place, far away from organized, so it could be possible.

Stella’s excitement wavered, guilt slowly making it to the surface. “Well,” she began, finding the palm tree on their right way more interesting now. “Oh my god, what did you do?” Lola already asked.

“I found her diary while cleaning out the attic and there are actually three candidates,” Stella admitted. “Three?” Lola’s eyes were this close to falling out.

She quickly recovered though. “Better be a wide isle,” she said with a diabolical smile, earning herself another arm slap from Stella

2. I Have a Dream

"You're crazy," Lola announced, as Stella put a post stamp on the third, and last, sealed envelope.

“I know this is your dream, but it’s insane, and coming from me, that’s saying something.” Lola still wasn’t sold on the whole invite your potential dads to your wedding.

"As if randomly showing up in their front lawn would be a better idea," Stella muttered. This was her last resort. She wanted the fairytale wedding, so her father had to walk her down the isle. No ifs, ands, or buts!

"You thought about that, didn't you?" Lola realised, leaning back in the chair. "Maybe," Stella said with a little shrug, putting the envelopes into her bag.

Lola sighing heavily. "What if they don't show up?" she asked, truly concerned. The Argentinian doubted her friend would ever recover from that. "They will. I made it look like Mom wrote the letters," Stella said, having no doubt all three men would show up. It had been actually too easy, she and her mother shared the same messy handwriting, it had driven her school teachers crazy.

"Okay, what if they all show up?" Lola came up with another scenario, "do you think you'll just know when you see him? This can end really bad!”

"I'm going to send these letters," Stella hissed quite aggressively. Lola sighed in defeat, knowing it would be useless trying to change her mind.

“Google them before at least. One could be serial killer.”

Despite rolling her eyes, Stella did exactly that. “I knew that name seemed familiar,” Lola yelled when candidate number one turned out to be 1/3 of the Argentinian pop sensation Rollerband.

Simón had clearly been the most interesting one. Her mother had described him as her best friend during the first pages, then mused if she had feelings for him about 200 pages in, only to degrade him as a friend at the end again.

"Didn't you take singing lessons until you were like twelve?" Lola questioned. Stella was at loss for words. She had indeed taken a few lessons at her primary school, the teacher impressed with her voice.

It couldn’t be that easy, right? That the truth would had been right before her nose all these years.

“Hm, and he was already married with a kid when you were born. Would explain why your Mom fled to Sicily with you.” Lola had opened Wikipedia on her own phone.

Stella grimaced. She didn’t like the thought of having siblings.

“Okay, next,” Lola picked up another letter, eyes narrowing at the long name. “Didn’t google just suggest him too?”

“Go back,” Stella urged. “It did. Ah, he directed a music video for Rollerband. Maybe your mom was there on set,” Lola was at it with the theories again. “What is Villalobos for a surname though?” her friend wondered. “Says you, Perida!” Stella’s tone might have been a bit too venomous. “You’ll be Mrs Arias soon anyway,” Lola shrugged.

The older girl eyed the third letter then. “That’s not a Spanish name,” was the first thing Lola noticed.

Her mother had described Matteo Balsano as the epitome of a summer fling, but as soon as she had been in Buenos Aires again the calls and texts became less and less. The way she had written it, Luna had put an end to their very fresh relationship.

They didn’t find much about him, just that he was diplomat, who lived in Rome.

“Rome?” Stella’s felt her anger rise. “I can’t believe this. If this is the reason Mom didn’t let me go on the Rome trip in my last year of school…” She was too angry to finish her sentence. "I can't believe she lied to me," Stella suddenly continued. "Well, I can," Lola said unhelpfully. “Wouldn’t have been fun if you ran into him on accident.”

“Maybe he went on holiday or visited extended family in Sicily.” Lola then thought aloud, “and that’s why you life here. Mom never understood why your mother settled on this Italian island.” Growing up, Stella hadn’t really paid any mind it. Sure, it was sometimes annoying when she mixed up the languages, or worse, couldn’t remember a word in the language she currently spoke.

After a bit of digging, Stella had managed to find a photo on his Facebook page, showing it to Lola. “Okay, maybe, I’m hallucinating, but you do look alike. Like really, really alike.”

Her friend was right. Honestly, the other two letters were pretty much useless now.

3. I do

Stella removed her earbuds, turning around once again, making sure she wasn't being followed. She'd taken the ferry all to Naples, as mail on mainland was distributed much faster.

The matter was urgent.

She wanted her father to be present when she said ‘I do’, wanted to have the father daughter dance everyone would sob at.

Her big day was less than a month away, she needed the envelope to reach its addressee as soon as possible.

After Stella had handed the letter over at the postal office, she still had 2 hours until the ferry would sail back to Palermo. A grin appeared on her face as she grabbed a brochure about Naples.

It's been years since she had been on mainland.

4. SOS

It had been a normal morning for Matteo until he had collected his post. A letter from Sicily had caught his attention. He inspected the letter. The sender was nowhere to be found. Matteo reluctantly opened the letter.

His heart had already jumped at the messy handwriting. Luna had written him a letter. An invitation to be precise. To her daughter’s wedding.

Before he knew it, Matteo had booked a flight to Palermo.

#soy luna #one-shots #lutteo #stella balsano

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postedbygaslight · 6 years ago

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The Problem With (Forced) Happy Endings, or, Why I Hate The Phantom of the Opera

Yesterday, I was messing around on here and suggested that I hated the way The Phantom of the Opera ended. Then, I got the following ask:

I thought I’d respond briefly, but then things got out of hand. So, @lushkitten1989, as promised, here’s way more than you bargained for.

There are many, many reasons to dislike Andrew Lloyd Webber’s monolithic Broadway musical, The Phantom of the Opera. So, I’ll dispose of some of the lower hanging fruit:

The story is dependent upon Christine being so naive that she doesn’t realize she’s getting music lessons from a guy behind a two-way mirror.

The phantom is a one-trick pony, defined almost entirely by his obsession with Christine. It’s never actually clear what he seeks to achieve by gaining de facto control of the day-to-day operations of the theater (other than merely being able to exercise that control— which may be the point).

Raoul is as interesting as a pet rock. He is unbuttered toast. He is Mom Jeans.

The music is intermittently great, but just as often annoying as hell (to me, for example, the “Angel of Music” motif is grating and uninspired).

Those are fundamental, but relatively minor complaints. Phantom has a lot of strengths. The chemistry between the Phantom and Christine is very pronounced, and, at times, shockingly blatant in its sexual themes. Some of the songs are timeless classics (“Phantom of the Opera,” “Music of the Night,” “All I Ask of You”), and some of the sequences, like the chandelier crashing down on the stage, and the ensemble pieces, like “Masquerade,” are very accomplished.

But where Phantom really shines is building a very genuine feeling tension between what propriety and social mores tell Christine Daae what she should desire, and what she actually desires. Phantom dabbles with Bride of the Monstrous themes, but never goes all in on them, and the result is a muddled, confused mess of a story— one that could have been very, very good, but wasn’t courageous or forward-thinking enough to capitalize on its opportunities.

See, the problem starts with Raoul.

Yes, wonderful, handsome, unthreatening, rich, devoted, patient, loving, convenient Raoul. The honorable Vicomte de Chagny, no less. He is our erstwhile Socially Acceptable Love Interest™️. From the moment he’s introduced, it’s clear Raoul is meant to be Christine’s white knight, swooping in to rescue her from obscurity. The plot contrives to have him coincidentally happen upon Christine, his childhood sweetheart, now a chorus girl at the opera house he favors with his parents’ fortune.

Now, I know what the Phantom fans might say: Raoul is here to allow for a juxtaposition of dynamics, placing him as an anchor point to which Christine can return, reminding her that she is more than the Phantom’s pet (or pupil, or lover, or what have you). But I’d counter that he’s really here to act as a stand-in for society’s expectations for how a well-behaved woman should conduct herself. Raoul is young, conventionally attractive, affluent, and, most importantly, chaste.

Christine’s connections with Raoul are explicitly drawn as being rooted in childish notions of affection. To wit, Raoul First greets Christine with a modified nursery rhyme she was read during their brief time together as children. He visits her in the soft-focus glow of her dressing room, showers her with praise, and proceeds to not listen to her when she insists she can’t go celebrate with him. More than that, he dismisses her objections with little more than a hand wave. The point is, he sees her as a child, and treats her as a child.

Look at what happens the moment he leaves her alone. She looks into the mirror, and runs toward the dark reflection behind her own image (heavy symbolism of Jungian animus here). From their very first physical encounter, the Phantom engages Christine as a sexual creature, and the difference in her reaction is, well:

Once alone with the Phantom, Christine is no longer the child so idealized by Raoul. She’s a young woman seeking instruction of a different kind from a strange reflection of herself whose instructions have suddenly changed from anodyne singing lessons to exhortations to “feel the music of the night.”

The next time Christine is with Raoul is when they share their duet, the excellent, “All I Ask of You.” I say excellent because, like other tentpole numbers featured in Webber musicals, the song itself is brilliant, but, in the context of the play, it’s less inspiring. This is rather like “Memory” existing in a pop culture space entirely divorced from its origin in Cats, and I’m certain there are a fair number of people who simply identify the song as a soaring Barbra Streisand number, rather than the mournful plea of a neglected alley cat.

“All I Ask of You” is preceded by Christine trying to tell Raoul about her fear of the Phantom, and her growing unease at the magnetic pull he seems wield against her. Raoul’s immediate and repeated reaction? Something to the effect of: “There is no Phantom of the Opera. You’re imagining things. Don’t be silly.” The song then drives this home:

No more talk of darkness—Forget these wild-eyed fears—I’m here, nothing can harm you—My words will warm and calm you.

The call and response Christine and Raoul have here is staged as a sweet love song. And it is. But it’s also a proposal from a young man to a young woman, where the man suggests she abandon her desires to exist as a sexual being, and come be with him, where he’ll act as her protector against such base instincts.

And this tactic works. Christine is not so frightened of the Phantom himself— she pays lip service to being horrified at his murderous tendencies, but seems aware he would never harm her personally— as she is frightened of her seeming inability to resist her attraction to him.

Raoul positions himself as a shield Christine can hide behind so she never has to grow up. He prefers her as the girl who enchanted him when they were both children, and he’ll go to great lengths to keep her innocent and doe-eyed. Is it any wonder that Christine doesn’t want their engagement to be public? (Yes, I get that Christine doesn’t want to risk the Phantom’s wrath should he discover their impending marriage, but the whole thing looks more like Christine being very unsure as to what she really wants).

Raoul, who seems to be the only person in the play who continues to explicitly deny the existence of the Phantom into the second act, is, oddly, the first to run for a weapon when the Phantom shows himself. He’s the one who pushes Christine to acknowledge (falsely, I think) that her attraction to the Phantom is nothing more than a side-effect of Daddy issues. He insistently pushes forward with a plan to permanently rid both the Opera Populaire and Christine of the Phantom despite Christine’s warnings that Raoul doesn’t really understand what he’s fighting against. More than that, Raoul insists that Christine offer herself up as bait, and to do so publicly, an overt expression of control, of making her choose her loyalties in front of everyone.

Let’s pause a moment here before we get to the inflection point of the play. What I’m referencing is, of course, the aptly titled “Point of No Return,” wherein the true nature of Christine’s relationship with the Phantom is made public. I want to talk about the Phantom.

Throughout the entire play, the Phantom is presented as a sympathetic figure coded to represent misfit and outcast elements of society. He refers to himself as a “loathesome gargoyle” and confesses to Christine that he lashes out at the world and makes others fear him because he feels it’s his only choice for survival. But he also confesses to her that he secretly dreams of love and acceptance, and being able to live as he is, free from the condemnation of the wider world.

Yes, the Phantom expresses his displeasure with being defied in very unhealthy ways, but here we are again at the Death and the Maiden trope, wherein our heroine is the only person who is able to see beyond the darkness that both conceals and protects the man behind the mask. Here, Christine should be acting as the Phantom’s succor, a balm to his constant pain, and, in playing that part, she is meant to end his curse, or blunt its effects sufficiently enough for him to find peace. And, in return, the Phantom ought to provide Christine with growth beyond her childhood, and, in this version of events, usher in her sexual awakening and facilitate her passage into womanhood.

And it’s all set up to do that, for those themes to be realized, by the time the finale is cued up. Then, everything just goes to shit.

The Problem

If you’re unfamiliar with the way The Phantom of the Opera ends, you may want to stop reading.

After Christine stops Raoul from killing the Phantom in the graveyard, Raoul and the other peripheral characters contrive a plan to lure the Phantom into the open and kill or arrest him once and for all. The plan is simple enough. The Phantom has written an opera (aptly titled Don Juan Triumphant), and has ordered it be performed with Christine as the lead. Everyone assumes the Phantom will strike during the performance, most likely to claim Christine as his bride (or something like that).

Now, I posted a little joke earlier about what happens before the plan goes into effect. Raoul goes to Christine to comfort her and prepare her for her role in the trap, but Christine is very nervous about it. She tries to convey to Raoul why she’s apprehensive about the whole plan, but, again, Raoul doesn’t get it, and insists that Christine is getting worked up for nothing.

Of course, what ends up happening is “The Point of No Return,” the high point of the whole play, where the Phantom sheds all pretense and makes an overtly sexual appeal to Christine. And Christine, who’s supposed to be playing the role of Don Juan’s paramour, reciprocates the Phantom’s ardor, resulting in a very, very sexy sequence between the two of them. All while Raoul watches from the Phantom’s favored balcony (Box Five), and something like this happens:

The Phantom speaks directly to Christine, saying:

I have brought you— so our passions may fuse and merge— in your mind, you’ve already succumbed to me— dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me— now I am here with you— no second thoughts— you’ve decided—

To which Christine responds:

I have come here— hardly knowing the reason why— in my mind I’ve already imagined— our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent— now I am here with you— no second thoughts— I’ve decided—

This whole time, while the call and response between Christine and the Phantom reaches its fever pitch, Raoul watches, and understands the depth of his miscalculation. More than that, he’s horrified and repulsed by this display of lust from his innocent Christine. The mere suggestion that she might be complicit in the Phantom’s passions is something that, it can be observed above, threatens to break his world apart.

Thematically, this mirrors Raoul and Christine’s mutual declaration of chaste love in “All I Ask of You.” Which is important, because once the Phantom and Christine have crossed the metaphorical and literal bridge that separates them, and are embraced for all the world to see, the Phantom expands his entreaty, shifting from the blood-racing heat of “Point of No Return” to a soft, pleading reprise of “All I Ask of You.” He wants Christine to know he doesn’t just want her body, that he doesn’t just view her as a possession. That he loves her, just as much or more than Raoul.

And here is where Phantom could have become something great. Christine breaks free of the intoxicant of lust for the Phantom and turns to face him. He is emboldened, and reaches a more confident crescendo, saying

Anywhere you go, let me go, too— Christine, that’s all I ask of—

But the Phantom never finishes his sentence. Christine makes her choice, for sure. She does this. In front of the whole world. When the Phantom is most sincere and vulnerable.

Now, I might have been prepared to forgive Christine this mistake if not for the scene earlier, when she and the Phantom were alone, and she tried to remove his mask. He lashed out at her then, and proceeded to explain his sensitivity to being exposed. He opened up to her and revealed his vulnerability. And, above, when the Phantom has finally allowed himself to hope that Christine’s affections are sincere and reciprocated, she betrays him.

It horrifies me.

For the rest of the play, all the sympathy the audience has been conditioned to direct toward the Phantom is inverted. Christine shows affection to him only to trap him. She even kisses him, leading him on again, for no reason but to quell his rage toward Raoul. Even after his beastly rage has subsided, Christine can only chide him for being monstrous in body and spirit.

This haunted face holds no horror for me now— it’s in your soul that the true distortion lies—

The arc presented for the audience— to sympathize with the Phantom, and to experience with Christine the fear and wonder that can attend the awakening of sexual consciousness, is utterly squandered.

But why?

Happily Ever After

The answer is as simple as it is disheartening: because Christine is supposed to end up with Raoul. Raoul is her destined love interest because the plot demands it, and no other reason. The two of them don’t grow as a couple during the course of the play. Their dynamic as they leave the Phantom’s lair is unchanged from the dynamic they presented when Raoul came to see her in her dressing room at the beginning of the play. Even after being forced to acknowledge Christine as a complicated and sexual being, Raoul elects to ignore that, and champions only freeing her from the Phantom’s corrupting influence.

To come to this point, Christine’s character actually regresses, choosing to retreat behind Raoul’s promise of perpetual innocence and naïveté. The narrative turns from one of growth and sexual agency to one that urges the rejection of what is unpleasant to acknowledge. Christine essentially chooses to marry the nice guy with the trust fund, stays at home to raise the kids and play the doting wife, and occasionally allows herself moments of indulgence to fantasize about the tall, dark, mysterious man she always wanted to fuck back in college.

To make matters even worse, the Phantom is abandoned to misery and solitude. His suffering is rewarded with more suffering. Christine leaves him without hope or promise, and the Phantom remains shrouded in the dark, pining for Christine for the rest of his life. Through trusting and hoping for acceptance and love, the Phantom is shown only the futility of seeking either. The way this plays out is deeply disconcerting, going so far as to set up a prologue and epilogue set fifty years later, after Christine’s death, with a grieving, crippled Raoul learning that the Phantom is still alive. This represents a casual erasure of Christine’s presence from the narrative, and, worse, diminishes her role to that of the object of the struggle between two men over a young woman’s emotional and sexual destiny.

This is an ugly, sad, wretched story. It’s not a story of yearning or forbidden love. It’s a story about rejection and denial of desire. It’s a story about choosing what society deems acceptable over the needs of the self. Moreover, it’s a story about being afraid and remaining afraid.

There is nothing affirming or beautiful about this story. And I fucking hate it.

#phantom of the opera #phantom x christine #raoul de chagny #christine daae #happily never after #what a waste

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willsherjohnkhan · 6 years ago

Text

An Abominable Scandal

Chapter One: The Dismissal

***

221B BAKER STREET

The door to Holmes' flat flew open to reveal a clearly irritated, and very annoyed Doctor Margaret Hooper. As soon as she crossed the threshold she stormed over to Doctor Watson, who was in the process of evacuating his chair.

"How could you?!" Molly demanded of her erstwhile colleague, as she brandished the latest edition of 'The Strand Magazine' that contained Watson's account of the case he had titled 'The Abominable Bride'. "Thanks to you I've been dismissed from St Bartholomew's."

***

To the Rescue

221B BAKER STREET

There was very little that penetrated Holmes’ sub-conscious while he was deep within his Mind Palace. He was of course well aware of everything going on around him, but he had trained his brain to tune out anything he regarded as irrelevant.

And so, although he was aware of Hooper’s dramatic entrance, he ignored it as he did everything else.

That was until...

“Thanks to you I’ve been dismissed from St Bartholomew’s.”

Holmes’ eyes snapped open. He got to his feet and headed out the door, only to return a moment later when he realised Hooper and Watson hadn’t followed him.

“Come on,” he snapped impatiently. “We haven’t a moment to lose.”

This time when he raced down the stairs, Watson and Hooper were in hot pursuit.

***

ST BARTHOLOMEW’S - MORTUARY

When they entered the mortuary it soon became clear that their presence wasn’t welcome, from the newly promoted Head Pathologist Phillip Anderson at least.

But as he was not the one the detective was here to see, Holmes did what he always did when it came to Anderson, and ignored him. Instead he made his way over to the other gentleman in the room, Stamford, the hospital’s administrator.

“This is intolerable,” he exclaimed. “I refuse to work with that witless, snivelling buffoon,” he stated emphatically as he pointed at an outraged Anderson.

Stamford was entirely sympathetic to Molly’s situation, for it was he who had employed her, in the full knowledge of her gender, and had been complicit in her masquerade as a man. He was a kindly soul, and was well used to the world’s only Consulting Detectives overbearing ways. Totally ignoring Holmes, Stamford turned to Molly. “I am so sorry my dear, but once the Hospital’s Board of Governors became aware of your status, thanks to Watson’s write up of the Ricoletti case, I was given no option but to dismiss you.”

While Molly was more than willing to accept Stamford’s apology, given all that he had risked in allowing her to work as a pathologist in the first place. Holmes was not, and so he continued to rail against the situation.

“I prefer my pathologist to be competent and intelligent. And that is Hooper. I will not work with anyone else.”

“Well that’s fine with me,” Anderson stated smugly. “Because there is no way she will ever be allowed to work here again.”

“Oh you think not?” Holmes replied, an inexplicable solution to the problem at hand taking form in his mind. Without giving himself time to consider all the implications he put voice to his solution. “Hooper may not be able to work as a pathologist as a single woman, but that rule does not apply to a married one. Therefore to ensure that St Bartholomew’s continues to maintain the services of the best and brightest forensic specialist I will apply to my brother to procure a special licence, and use his influence to reinstate Hooper, in her female state.

“And to whom am I to be married?” Molly asked cautiously.

“Me, obviously,” Holmes stated, clearly pleased with himself.

Everybody else however, was understandably stunned by Holmes’ solution, their expressions ranged from shock, confusion, disbelief or horror, depending on how they viewed Holmes’ statement.

Holmes, completely oblivious, swept out of the mortuary, calling over his shoulder. “Come Hooper, come Watson. There is much to organise.”

With little other option, Molly and John followed him.

***

A Marriage of Inconvenience

24 hours later.

And cold hard logic has reasserted itself...

HANSOME CAB #1 – OUTSKIRTS OF LONDON

“Be fair Holmes,” Watson cried his expression a mix of hurt and regret. “I take great pride to ensure that my narrative of our cases is a faithful and accurate one.”

“Yes,” Holmes responded testily. “And it is entirely due to your determination to be so faithful that I now find myself in this damnable position.”

Before Watson could defend himself, the cab came to a halt, and both men exited.

***

HANSOME CAB #2

Meanwhile, a few minutes behind her groom, the bride was also having second thoughts.

As much as Molly appreciated Holmes’ gallant offer, she was becoming increasingly worried. For truth be told his hand had been forced, having been more or less goaded into it by Anderson’s assertions that she would never again be allowed to step foot into her beloved mortuary.

With these thoughts whirling around her head, she began restlessly fussing with the small bunch of flowers that were clutched tightly in her hands.

Her companion was Watson’s wife Mary, another woman who refused to allow her gender to define who she was, and what she was capable of when she applied her mind to it.

Mary smiled reassuringly as she placed her hand over Molly’s, effectively preventing her from bolting when the cab came to a halt.

“Everything will work out in the end,” she promised.

***

COURT HOUSE – JUDGES CHAMBERS

The ceremony was brief, but included all that was required to make it legal.

It was witnessed.

Vows were made.

The groom slipped a simple gold band onto his bride’s ring finger, before leaning down to place a chaste kiss upon her lips.

Or at least that had been Holmes’ intention.

But the moment his lips touched Molly’s he was taken off guard by a tingling sensation that began at the point where their lips met, before travelling like wildfire through his body. Its effect most notable as blood rushed to a strategic point between his legs, causing that part of his anatomy to swell, making it rigid and uncomfortably erect within the unfashionably tight trousers that he wore.

His mind that valued cold, hard reason beyond all else shut down, to be replaced by one eager to explore the possibilities of these exquisite sensations that were currently raging through him.

It was only when Molly’s encouraging moan penetrated his subconscious, it was enough to break the spell he was under, snapping him out of his stupor.

The change was instantaneous. Once again in control of his senses Holmes deftly removed Molly’s hands that had become entangled in his hair. With as much dignity as he could muster, he disengaged himself entirely from their embrace, stepping back to ensure a safe distance, in an attempt to avoid the temptation she had so unexpectedly aroused within him.

Holmes ignored the embarrassed expressions of those gathered, the heightened colour in his wife’s cheeks, not to mention his own heavy breathing, Instead he quickly moved to thank the Judge for agreeing to officiate at such short notice. He then took Molly by the arm, and led her briskly from the room.

***

OUTSIDE THE COURTHOUSE

If Holmes believed that his hasty marriage would be of little interest to the press, he was to be sorely disappointed.

No sooner had he and Molly exited the Courthouse then they found themselves surrounded by reporter’s, who were all attempting to outdo one another in asking inappropriate questions.

“Will Hooper be wearing the pants at home too?”

“Have a thing for women dressed in men’s clothing, eh Holmes?”

“Are we to expect a new addition soon?”

Holmes was certain that the red spots on Molly’s cheeks had more to do with indignation than embarrassment. Nonetheless he did all he could to shield her with his body as they fought their way to the waiting cab.

HANSOME CAB

When the couple were finally safe inside, the cabbie took off.

But as they pulled away Holmes spotted, skulking in the shadows, the two individuals responsible for tipping off the press. Phillip Anderson and Janine Hawkins...

***

Masquerading, Fakery and Untruths

221B BAKER STREET

As soon as the cab pulled up outside 221B, Holmes leapt out, paid the cabbie, and assisted Molly out before hastily getting them both through the front door.

He then ushered Molly upstairs, in order to avoid his landlady, Mrs Hudson and her need to engage in nonsensical chatter.

***

SHERLOCK’S FLAT

Once through the door to the sanctuary of his flat, Holmes shut it firmly, leaning his back against it, he let out a sigh of relief.

But that sense of relief was to be short lived as the other person in the room made her presence felt.

“Why was Miss Hawkins at the Courthouse, Sherlock?” the sound of his Christian name on her lips caused Molly’s heart to skip a beat.

But she immediately reprimanded herself. She could not allow such a thing, no matter how thrilling to distract her from finding out the circumstances of the woman’s unexpected appearance.

It was clear she was in league with Anderson, and that they had been responsible for the notifying the press to what was supposed to be a private ceremony. She knew Anderson held a grudge against her. But why was Janine there?

And then she remembered what had happened at the de-sanctified church...

DE-SANCIFIED CHURCH

Janine removed her hood, and stepped forward with purpose. “Emelia thought she’d found happiness with Ricoletti, but he was a brute too. Emelia was our friend. You have no idea how that bastard treated her.”

SHERLOCK’S FLAT

Molly remembered Holmes’ expression when Janine revealed herself. His eyes had widened in shock. And as she spoke, he looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Janine’s words, she realised held another meaning, one that was directed at Holmes, and his discomfort confirmed that he understood exactly to what she referred.

So clearly they had history. And that made her more determined than ever to get to the bottom of it.

She walked directly up to Holmes, and demanded “Why does she bear you ill will?”

Holmes had hoped that Molly wouldn’t spot, yet alone recognise Janine Hawkins. But he should have known better. For ‘Hooper’ never missed anything of importance. In resignation, he indicated the chairs by the fireplace. “I think it best as this explanation may prove a long one it be given sitting down.”

Once seated, Holmes began...

“I doubt you’ll recall the case of ‘The Master Blackmailer’ as Watson termed it, it took place a couple of years before you began working at St Bartholomew’s.”

He paused, to give himself a moment to compose his thoughts, and then continued.

“Charles Augustus Magnussen was a loathsome creature, a cruel and cunning individual who preyed upon the vulnerable. He paid easily motivated maids and valets generously to illicitly obtain letters and private papers that contained the intimate secrets of their masters and mistresses. He then waited for the most opportune time in which to strike. Contacting his victims, and advising them of what he has obtained, and the price, always well in excess of what the victim could afford, to be paid for the return of the documents. One such victim came to me in the hopes that I might be able to obtain better terms. Magnussen was threatening to give her letters to her fiancé’ a few days before they were due to be married. Should her groom read the letters, the end result would see the wedding cancelled.”

“But what does this have to do with Janine?” Molly asked. She knew Janine was not a woman of means, so she was unlikely to be the victim of such a man as Magnussen.

“Janine was Magnussen’s housemaid,” Holmes explained. “After Magnussen rebuffed my proposed offer that I put forward on behalf of my client, I set upon a plan to steal the letters from under his very nose. To do that I needed to learn the plan of his house, Appledore Towers, and Magnussen’s daily routine.”

Molly nodded her understanding, before silently urging him to continue.

“I disguised myself as a plumber, Escort by name. It was then that I cultivated a relationship with Janine, who was always more than willing to tell more than she ought about the goings on of her master. Unfortunately to obtain some of the more pertinent details I was left with no option but to become engaged to her.”

Holmes paused at Molly’s surprised gasp.

“Watson was naturally scandalised by my behaviour, but it was absolutely necessary that I discover the whereabouts of the letters. And once I knew all I needed to know, I allowed Miss Hawkins to discover my true identity, when I visited Magnussen again, this time at his home, as my true self.”

“Hell hath no fury...” Molly murmured.

“Quite so,” Holmes agreed. “Although I think you’ll find Miss Hawkins scorn had more to do with what happened to her after Magnussen’s death.”

“His death?” the concern in Molly’s voice was clear.

Holmes was quick to reassure her. “As much as I would have happily ended that vile little man’s life, that pleasure was left to another.”

“Go on,” Molly encouraged.

“It was my intention that Watson and I perform a little burglary. But our plans went awry when Magnussen instead of being sound asleep, entered his office just as I had successfully opened his safe. We were forced to conceal ourselves behind some curtains. It soon became clear he was waiting for someone. Shortly after his visitor arrived, a woman entered from the outside door. Magnussen believed her to be a ladies maid with incriminating letters, but it was not so. It turned out she was one of his previous victims, and she had come for her revenge. She shot him a number of times, before grinding the heel of her shoe into his monocled eye.”

“Were you able to retrieve your client’s letters?”

“Magnussen’s cries had alerted his household, that didn’t leave us much time. So I grabbed every document and letter that was contained within the safe, and threw them in the fire, destroying them completely. Then Watson and I had to make a run for it.”

“And what of Janine?” Molly queried.

“There are hundreds in this great city that would turn white at the mention of Magnussen’s name. Miss Hawkins was known to be in his employ, so I’m afraid she was tainted by association. That meant finding a new situation difficult, and I have no doubt she fell on hard times, for which she may well have held me responsible.”

By now it was quite late. Mrs Hudson brought the up a cold supper that they both ate in silence.

After they had finished Holmes got to his feet. “I’ve asked Mrs Hudson to prepare Watson’s old room for your use. I’m certain you’ll find it more than adequate.”

Holmes was making his way to his bedroom when he was pulled up short by Molly’s response.

“Certainly not,” she stated adamantly.

“I beg your pardon,” Holmes responded, clearly flummoxed by her vehement outburst.

“I said certainly not,” Molly reiterated sternly. “This may be a marriage of convenience, but it will definitely not be a fake one. We will sleep together in the same room, and the same bed.”

Holmes was left completely stunned, his brain quite unable to come up with a reasonable argument.

Taking his silence as agreement, Molly made her way determinably down the hallway and entered the bedroom at the end, leaving Holmes to follow meekly behind.

***

Chapter 5: Start As We Mean To Go On

***

221B BAKER STREET – BEDROOM

It was a rare occasion indeed that would find Holmes asleep in his bed for the whole night. With a mind as constantly active as his, he was usually too restless to settle enough to allow his mind to calm down for long. A couple of hours on the sofa were usually sufficient to reinvigorate his deductive processing abilities.

So it was with some disorientation that he woke up to find himself in his bed. He closed his eyes to better focus on the most recent memories to assist him in reconstructing the events that had led him there.

The answer chose that moment to snuggle up even closer to him, causing Holmes’ eyes to fly open in realisation.

Hooper... Molly... His wife was currently fast asleep on her side, facing him, her expression one of serenity and peace. It was a feeling Holmes definitely did not share. Now fully awake, he was painfully aware that his body was once again betraying him, his cock was once again erect and, more disturbingly he became aware of how dangerously close Molly’s hand was to it.

Moving cautiously so as not to wake her, Holmes edged his way back to his side of the bed, before getting out and exiting the bedroom. His destination the bathroom, where he intended to rid himself of his extremely inconvenient bodily condition.

“Molllyyyy...”

The strangled cry was muted by the closed bathroom door. But it was enough to rouse Molly from her fitful sleep.

Far from being embarrassed by the unmistakable sound of Sherlock bringing himself to orgasm, Molly instead felt a spark of hope that Sherlock’s need to find sexual release was a sign that he did have feelings for her, a fact that was further emphasized by her name being wrenched from his cupids bow lips.

Unfortunately it was equally clear that he had stubbornly deemed it necessary to deal with his erectile problem himself, instead of the obvious solution, that of requesting his wife’s participation.

‘But that was Sherlock Holmes for you’, she acknowledged. ‘Completely blind to the obvious, especially when it came to her.’

She should tread carefully was the counsel of her head, her heart however had other ideas. Getting out of bed, Molly grabbed Sherlock’s blue bathrobe, and put it on before making her way to the kitchen.

221B - BATHROOM

Holmes stood before the mirror viewing himself now that he had washed his hands, and had tamed with the aid of cream his unruly curls.

Except for a slightly flushed complexion, his reflection showed a man back in control of his faculties.

‘The brain without a heart, the calculating machine.’

That was how Watson described him in the write up of the Ricoletti case. It had been one of the Doctor’s finest descriptive achievements. Not that Holmes would ever admit it out loud.

Satisfied that everything was back to normal, he left the bathroom to return to the bedroom to dress.

221B – KITCHEN / SITTING ROOM

When Holmes walked into the kitchen, he found Molly had made breakfast for them both.

However before he could say a word he caught sight of Molly in his bathrobe, and his brain once again shut down, while his traitorous genitalia went into overdrive.

Molly smiled before indicating with a nod of her head that he should sit at the table, in the place she had set for him.

The scene of domesticity was enough to snap Holmes brain back into gear, ignoring Molly’s silent request he grabbed two pieces of toast before making his way to his chair in the sitting room.

Setting the toast aside, he sat back in his chair, his elbows resting on the armrests, his palms pressed together, resting under his chin. He took solace in his Mind Palace, where he came up with the perfect plan of action with regards to his all too distracting wife.

Decision made, he emerged to find Molly sitting in John’s chair, waiting patiently.

Molly braced herself. If the look on Sherlock’s face was any indication, whatever he was about to say she was certain was not going to be to her liking.

In the same cool, detached tone that Hooper was all too used to hearing, Holmes stated. “As you are aware I hold reason and logic in high esteem, and I never allow sentiment to cloud or interfere in my decision making processes. The same is true of my decision to enter into this marriage state,” he paused a moment to allow his words to sink in, before he continued. “My primary concern in marrying you was to ensure that you were reinstated to your position at St Bartholomew’s, so that we could return to our usual routine as quickly as possible. This is purely a business arrangement. If you insist upon our continuing to share a bed, then it is done on the understanding that there will be no expectations of romantic entanglements.”

When Molly made no immediate response, Holmes took this as agreement.

“Well I’m pleased we have that all sorted,” he exclaimed as he got to his feet. “I’ll be out for the rest of the day. Lestrade left a message that he has a case that has him quite baffled.”

And with that he left the flat.

Molly remained where she sat for several minutes. All her hopes that Sherlock might actually feel some affection for her, was now utterly destroyed by his pronouncement.

His words hurt her, and she doubted that he would ever fully comprehend just how much. But she would be damned if she was going to let him see.

***

Over the next few days, when it became clear that he had indeed returned to his cool and callous ways, both at work and at home, Molly became more and more withdrawn emotionally, and physically.

Holmes either didn’t notice, or was quite unaware, until one night he returned to the flat, to discover that his wife had removed herself, and all her possessions, and moved into Watson’s old room.

It was with some surprise that he felt a little upset with this particular development. But then his cold, hard reason reasserted itself, and he reasoned that it was probably for the best.

And he went to bed, alone.

***

One week later...

221B BAKER STREET

Holmes was reviewing some old, unsolved cases. It was something he rarely did, but he was desperate for the diversion. It was better than allowing his thoughts to drift to his...Molly. She barely spoke to him now, only at Bart’s, and only to give her findings on any particular autopsy he was interested in.

His ears picked up the familiar tread of Inspector Lestrade as he made his way with surprising haste up the stairs.

“What is it Lestrade?” Holmes snapped impatiently. “Another little girl’s rabbit mysteriously vanish from its cage?”

The reminder of the contents of the note he’d used as a means of escaping the uncomfortable situation he’d created between himself and Molly, pulled the Consulting Detective up short.

In an attempt to cover up his sense of shame over this little deceit, he moderated his tone as he again addressed the Scotland Yard Detective. “How can I help you Lestrade?”

Lestrade took a moment or two to regain his breath.

“There’s been an explosion at St Bartholomew’s Mortuary...”

Lestrade got no further before Holmes dropped what he was doing, rushed down the stairs, grabbed his coat, but forgot his hat, then rushed out the front door and hailed a cab.

***

ST BARTHOLOMEW’S - ENTRANCE

No sooner had the cab stopped than Sherlock was out, and rushing towards the mortuary.

He was temporarily delayed as he fought his way through the barriers the police had put in place to give the Fire Department easy access, while keeping the hospital staff, and members of the public at a safe distance.

But Sherlock didn’t give a damn about his own life all he cared about was finding Molly...

ST BATHOLOMEW’S – MORTUARY

“Molly! MOLLY!” Sherlock’s voice grew more and more desperate as he rushed towards the Mortuary that even from a distance was clear had suffered substantial damage.

“Sherlock,”

Sherlock’s frantic movements slowed as he heard his wife’s voice. He turned to find her sitting on the floor a few feet away from the mortuary. He rushed over to her, and crouched down so that he could assess whether her injuries, should she have any, were serious or not. To his relief he found her to be completely unharmed.

It was only when he felt Molly’s hands brushing away the tears from his face that he realised he was crying.

“I’m all right,” Molly assured him. “I told Lestrade to let you know there was no need to be concerned. Clearly he didn’t.”

Sherlock felt his cheeks flush.

“Well he might have if I’d given him the chance to explain fully. All I heard was that there had been an explosion at the morgue, and I couldn’t bear the thought that I might have lost you.”

His impassioned words made Molly’s heart sing. Taking his face in her hands she met his incredible aqua coloured eyes head on as she made a solemn vow. “You will never lose me Sherlock, even if you wanted to.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I am such an idiot,” he confessed.

“I know,” she responded, before snuggling into the reassuring warmth of her husband.

Sherlock heard the smile in her voice, and he thanked God, even though he still regarded it as nothing more than a ludicrous fantasy designed purely to provide employment for the village idiot, that this incredible woman was not only in his life, but more importantly his wife.

‘But a wife in name only,’ his conscience chided him.

Breathing in her familiar scent, he felt his heart, and his body respond. This time however he was determined to no longer ignore what he felt for her.

And he intended to leave her in no doubt of his feelings. But he refused to do so here. What he needed to say, and do, required privacy.

***

221B BAKER STREET

A trail of hastily removed clothes littered the floor from the sitting room, down the hall and into the bedroom. An honest proclamation of the need to feel naked skin against naked skin, and to become as close as was humanly possible.

Sherlock and Molly’s ecstatic cries as they finally became intimately acquainted with one another had their landlady, Mrs Hudson rushing to get a sleeping draft to ensure she spent the rest of the night in absolute oblivion...

***

Chapter 6: Wedded Bliss

***

221B BAKER STREET - BEDROOM

The morning found the couple blissfully satiated. Even in repose their limbs remained entwined.

Sherlock lay on his side, Molly’s back against his chest, her bottom pressed into his groin. One of her hands rested on his hipbone, while the other was enclosed by his as he clasped her securely to him, his arm wrapped around her waist. His other hand cupped her left breast.

They awoke languidly. Awareness of each other’s presence confirmation that what happened the previous day was not a dream, or a drug-fuelled hallucination. But fact, an absolute reality, and one that could be explored, and enjoyed over, and over again.

Sherlock was forced to relinquish his hold when it became clear that his wife wished to turn over.

However once they were face-to-face Sherlock felt an immediate renewal of those passionate feelings they had spent the entire night engaging in to their fullest satisfaction.

When Molly reached up to slide her fingers through his unruly curls, grasping them firmly as she pulled his head down so that their lips met, it was clear she felt the same.

But their passionate exchange was interrupted by another form of hunger, one where the nourishment needed to sate it came in the form of food.

221B – SITTING ROOM

Sherlock sat in his chair, a bed-sheet wrapped haphazardly around him, with Molly on his lap, dressed in his blue dressing gown.

They had finally finished eating breakfast. A task that took considerably longer than normal as the couple insisted upon feeding each other, in-between pressing increasingly heated kisses to any area of naked skin within reach.

But when Molly reached up to suck energetically at the mole on Sherlock’s neck, she was made aware of something in one of the pockets of the dressing gown.

Curious, she reached inside and pulled out Sherlock’s pocket-watch. Before he could stop her, Molly had flipped the case open. On one side was the watch, while inserted into the other side was the photograph of a woman, a very beautiful woman.

As Molly gazed at the woman’s striking appearance, she recalled a conversation she had overheard in the mortuary several months before between Sherlock and Doctor Watson. They had been discussing an older case that had revolved around a lady that both men only ever referred to as ‘The Woman’.

Based on the little information being offered up at the time, Molly had formed the opinion that this woman was a high class harlot, come blackmailer. But who was nonetheless someone Sherlock held in high esteem. Something that was extraordinarily rare and practically unheard of when it came to the fairer sex.

Now confronted with a photograph of someone who could only be that woman, Molly felt an overwhelming need to understand.

“Who is she, Sherlock?”

“Her name is Irene Adler,” Sherlock replied honestly, taking the watch from Molly as he continued his explanation. “I have kept her photo because at the time I believed I would never come across another woman who could stimulate me, intellectually,” Sherlock confessed as he removed the photograph and threw it in the fire without a second glance, before placing the watch on the little table by his chair.

He then turned back to Molly. “Since then however I have had the good fortune to meet two others. One, Watson was clever enough to marry, while I have been blessed to marry the other.”

Once he had finished his explanation Sherlock found himself feeling quite nervous. How would Molly respond?

He didn’t have long to wait.

After a minute or two spent in contemplation Molly turned to her husband, a frown marring her brow. “You find me merely intellectually stimulating?” she queried, her tone cool.

But Sherlock caught the teasing glint in her expressive brown eyes, and the tension inside him immediately evaporated.

He had no doubt that his Molly would require a full explanation, but that was for later, much, much later if he had his way. And judging from his wife’s expression he was about to get his wish.

When she ran her hands through his errant curls, her fingers again gripping them firmly as she impatiently pulled his head down to capture his lips with her own. Sherlock let out a groan, as he came to the conclusion that having ones hair follicles grasped in such a fashion by his wife was one the most erotically, stimulating sensation he’d ever encountered, and one that required further and immediate investigation...

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes!”

Caught completely off guard the usually unflappable World’s Only Consulting Detective reacted as one caught by his mother doing something he shouldn’t. In this case the literal truth. Bolting to his feet, while ensuring Molly was not left exposed, as he quickly manoeuvring her so that she was behind him. The same could not be said for himself, as his sheet started to descend at a rapid rate, and it was due entirely to Molly’s quick actions as she grabbed hold of the sheet before it could cause a very public spectacle.

“What the devil are you doing here?” Sherlock spluttered as he gazed wide-eyed at the elderly couple standing in the doorway.

“Don’t use that tone with me young man,” the formidable lady shot back. “Just when were you intending to inform us of your marriage? We had a right to know.”

She was absolutely right of course, Sherlock acknowledged as he gazed into the eyes that were the exact replica of his own. He read the hurt his decision to not inform them immediately had caused.

“My apologies Mother, Father,” he responded, his tone genuinely conciliatory. Standing back to reveal the petite woman who had stolen his heart, “I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Doctor Molly Holmes. As to the circumstances of our marriage...”

“Sherlock was only trying to protect my reputation,” Molly began.

“Your reputation was never in question,” Sherlock protested. “This is all down to Watson’s need to be so damned accurate in his write up of our cases.”

“Perhaps my dear,” Mr Holmes suggested. “It would be better we continue this intriguing tale over dinner tonight. By then I’m certain Sherlock and Molly will be more properly attired.”

“Of course,” Mrs Holmes responded. “A splendid idea, we’ll see you both at Mycroft’s at 8.00pm.”

And with that they turned to leave.

But before Sherlock could shut the door, his mother had other ideas. She turned back to him, a determined expression on her face. “I want grandchildren Sherlock We’re not getting any younger you know.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes in exasperation. “As it so happens,” he informed her. “We were working on it, but were interrupted.”

Satisfied his mother finally headed down the stairs.

With a sigh of relief Sherlock closed the door, before making his way over to Molly.

“Now where were we?” he asked, as he let his sheet fall to the floor.

***

Chapter 7: Nine Months Later...

***

221B BAKER STREET - BEDROOM

“That’s it Molly, one more push. You can do it,” Mary Watson’s reassuring words reached Molly through the exhausting haze of childbirth.

“Ohhhhh.... Awwww... Ahhhhh...”

Sherlock’s right hand was completely numb thanks to the tight grip Molly had on it, but that didn’t stop him moving swiftly to support his wife’s back with his left arm as the final contraction caused her to go from a horizontal position to a semi vertical one.

Not long after their child was announcing its presence to everyone in the room.

“It’s a girl,” Mary informed the new parents, as she wrapped her up in a blanket before handing her back to her mother. “Have you decided on a name for her?”

Molly nodded. “Victoria Margaret,” she responded softly.

Mary made her way to the door, turning back she smiled as she observed the once cold hearted detective, still in his nightshirt, climb onto the bed and take his wife in his arms, cradling her protectively as she cradled their daughter.

Neither could take their eyes off the tiny scrap of humanity they had created together.

Sherlock was vaguely aware of Mary leaving the room. He needed to thank her for coming so quickly when Molly went into labour early. But for now he was content to stay right where he was, cataloguing and committing to memory every single detail about his baby daughter, while knowing Mary would forgive his tardiness.

He was brought out of his revere when Molly made an unexpected suggestion. “If our next child is a boy, I think we should name him John.”

Sherlock paled at the mere suggestion. Not because he didn’t want more children, but because after witnessing Molly going through all she had in delivering Victoria, he didn’t want to put her through it all over again.

But it was clear that Molly appeared to have immediately forgotten all the pain and effort she’d gone through bringing their daughter into the world.

As he watched his wife’s contented expression as Victoria began to suckle eagerly at Molly’s breast, he didn’t have the heart to argue with her. The same could not be said for her choice of name for their future son. “Why does it have to be John?”

“Well if he hadn’t been so accurate in his write up of The Ricoletti Case, we may never have found ourselves where we are now,” his wife pointed out.

Sherlock acknowledged that she had a point, not that he’d ever admit as much to Watson. But that was a discussion for another day.

Because all that mattered right now, as they settled more comfortably in their bed and closed their eyes, was that they had found each other and their lives had become infinitely better for it.

***

#Sherlolly #Post TAB #The fallout from the write up of the Emelia Ricoletti case #Fun and games #Mizjoely's chapter scramble challenge

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thetravelerwrites · 6 years ago

Text

A New Generation (Pt. 2)

Rating: Teen Fandom: 魔法使いの嫁 | Mahou Tsukai no Yome | The Ancient Magus Bride Relationships: Hatori Chise x Elias Ainsworth Characters: Elias Ainsworth, Hatori Chise, Chise Hatori, Silver Lady, Silkie, Ruth, Titania, Oberon, Shannon, Stella Barklem, Angelica Burley, David Burley, Althea Burley, Lindel | Lindenbaum, Merituuli Trigger Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Babies, Infants, Depression, Anxiety, Discrimination, Unplanned Pregnancy, Abandonment, References to Abuse, References to Abandonment, References to Child Murder Words: 8551

As Chise's pregnancy progresses, Elias is consumed with worry that his child will be rejected by both fae and humans, as he had been. Chise struggles with the fear that she might abandon or harm her own children, as her parents did.

When Elias returned home from London, he sat down with Chise and had a very long, solemn conversation with her about the pregnancy, and for the first time, they talked about a future that also involved their child. Or children, if Chise was correct in her belief that there were two.

He told her about going to speak with Lindel, Simon, and Angelica and what their advice had been. Like him, Chise found Angelica’s tale the most consoling. Knowing that the artificer had felt similar apprehension about procreating helped Chise feel less isolated.

Calling Angelica and talking to her at length also did much to improve Chise’s disposition, not just about Chise’s ability to parent but also about the pregnancy itself. It didn’t cure her of her worries, but having someone to talk to who knew exactly what she was going through was a great comfort to her.

Finally managing to convince Elias to install a landline in the house had been a pretty recent accomplishment. He fought this "modern indulgence" for quite a long time, but when he finally understood that it meant she didn’t have to walk to town to use the public phone every other day, he was more open to the idea, especially since walking long distances was going to become rather difficult for her as time went on. The noise the device made was annoying, but seeing her smile when she answered it was enough to keep him from being too bothered by the sound.

The change in her mood greatly eased Elias’s mind. Watching Chise spiral into a deep, black pit of terror and depression was difficult for him to bear, especially given there was little he could on his own to improve it. As much as he wanted to help her, he had eventually come to understand that sometimes people could only find solace in others who’d had comparable experiences. This was just not his ken, so it was better left to those suited to the task.

He tried to quash his own fears for her sake, but she knew him too well to let him get away with keeping those thoughts to himself. At night, before they slept, she would talk to him; just talk, not expecting him to respond if he wasn’t in the mood to do so, and it helped him. Hearing the sudden shift in her voice from cold despair to tentative hope had done much to alleviate his woes. She encouraged him to be honest with her about what he felt, but didn’t push him to talk if he didn’t want to. More often than not, though, he would. They would lay bear their worries to each other and try to find the bright side. They were both still afraid, but they were facing that fear together.

And it helped.

Summer was in full swing, and Elias was twice as busy as normal now that Chise was limited as to what she could do. He didn’t grumble about it much; after all, he had done everything himself before she had come along. But they had become a well-coordinated, efficient team over the years and he had come to treasure her reserved, supportive assistance in all things, whether practical or magical. He rather missed working in tandem with her.

Though she was no longer allowed to do any of her normal seasonal chores beyond a little light weeding and watering, she would often sit in the garden with him as he worked and help whenever she could, not content with staying in bed all day like an invalid. Besides, having Chise within Elias’s sight and hearing was good for his heart and mind.

Ruth spent his time keeping a close, watchful eye on her, reporting any physical ills that Chise might keep to herself to Elias. As long as she was at rest, though, they were happy enough.

Late one night, he walked into their bedroom to prepare for sleep and found her naked in front of a mirror, standing to the side, looking down at her belly.

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously.

“Look at my stomach,” She said, her hands gently probing her lower abdomen. “It’s bigger. And it’s hard, too. Feel.”

Elias came close and laid his hand on her stomach. It was indeed hardened, as though she had swallowed a large stone, and there was a swelling between her hips; not big, but definitely noticeable.

And perhaps he imagined it, but he thought he felt a strange swirl of energy embedded there underneath the flesh and muscle, lodged deep in her body. No, two swirls. Perhaps Chise’s instinct was more credible than he first thought.

“Hmm,” He said. “Why is that?”

“Angelica says the uterus thickens and becomes more solid to protect the fetuses,” She said, reaching for a book on her nightstand. “It says so in this, too. Alice sent it to me. I told her about the babies, by the way, but I swore her to secrecy. I haven’t told Stella yet, but she’s busy at university and I didn’t want to bother her during finals.”

Elias bent to peer at the book. “What is it?”

She flipped through the rather large paperback volume. “It’s a book about pregnancy and birth. It’s actually pretty informative. So many things make sense now.”

“May I read it, then?” He asked. “There is much I still need to learn. I have a distinct dearth of knowledge about this particular subject and I feel compelled to rectify that.”

“Sure,” she said, handing it to him. “I’ve read up to the third trimester, so I won’t need it for a little while. I hope it helps.”

In some ways it did, and in others it didn’t. During gestation, he learned, the woman’s body produces excess blood to carry extra oxygen to the baby, which in turn causes the mother’s heart rate to accelerate for the duration of the pregnancy, which in turn causes her core temperature to rise. That explained that part, at least.

But other aspects of pregnancy and childbirth were, to put it mildly, horrifying. Things like nosebleeds, strange cravings, extreme mood swings, increased sex drive, swelling of the extremities, sudden hair growth or hair loss, violent fits of vomiting that lasted for months, soreness almost everywhere, food aversions, heighten sensitivity of smell, touch, and taste… the list of physical oddities was extensive. Bones would often be pushed out of the way and change position to compensate for the growing child, sometimes even fracturing or breaking in the process. And all of this was considered normal.

And those were just minor possible symptoms. The more severe ones were downright ghastly. There was no end of ways that it could go wrong, no end to the possible damage to the mother, no end to the ways the child could be born ill or malformed, and that was just for regular, non-magical children. There was no telling what kind of ailments could befall the child of two mages, especially if both parents were cursed.

And the descriptions of the birthing process itself, including the many, many things that could go awry, was nothing short of nauseating. Several times, he had to shut the book and put it aside for a while, appalled at what he learned. He hated to admit it, but sometimes knowledge for knowledge’s sake wasn’t always a good thing.

Once the first physical changes had begun, time seemed to speed up. Chise’s body changed rapidly, her stomach growing larger every day to carry the new life safely. She seemed especially breakable these days, and Elias couldn’t help being even more protective than he had been before.

For years before he had bought Chise, nothing had changed. Things went on as they always had, and it was as comfortable as it was dull. Then, once he met her, things changed, but it was a slow change. Even though things happened that never had before, it came at a pace he could understand and absorb.

Now, everything was new and happening too fast for him to process, and he was trying his best to keep up. He did not adapt well to change.

One afternoon in late July, while Chise was having her afternoon nap, Elias awoke her with a touch to her cheek.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Little Bird,” He said softly. “But there is a guest downstairs who has come a long way to see you. Are you feeling up to greeting them?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

Downstairs, she saw a tallish, pale man standing in their sitting room in modern clothes, looking around the room curiously. His blonde hair was separated into two bunches and hung over his shoulders. The the pupils of his bright blue eyes were slits, like that of a wild predator.

“Lindel!” Chise exclaimed in surprise.

When he saw her enter the room, a wide smile split his face. “It’s good to see you, my daughter,” He said, his arms open toward her.

She rushed forward to give him a hug. “What are you doing here? The dragons--”

“Can survive me being gone for an hour or two. Besides, Merituuli is to inform me right away if anything should happen while I’m here. I haven’t heard from you in a while and I wanted to check on you.” He held her at arms length and looked at her belly. “You’re coming along rather quickly, aren’t you? I sense very strong life essences brewing in there. Your offspring will be incredibly powerful mages. I can’t wait to meet my grandchildren; you must bring them to the aerie once they’ve been born.”

“More than one?” Chise asked.

“Oh, yes,” Lindel replied. “Two separate, distinct energies, hale and healthy, growing well.”

“Ha,” Chise said quietly. “I knew it.”

“Now,” He took her hand and hooked it around his arm. “Why don’t you give me a tour and tell me all about your preparations for the little ones? I’ve never actually been to Thorn’s home, you know. The ungrateful brat has never so much as extended an invitation.”

Elias sniffed slightly and sat in his chair, picking up a book he must have been reading before Lindel arrived.

“Of course,” She said, turning. Silver was looking in shyly from the kitchen, where Ruth was having a snack. “This is Silver Lady. She’s a neighbor who runs the house and looks after us. She’s been a big help to me.”

Lindel bowed. “A pleasure.”

Maybe it was Chise’s imagination, but she could have sworn Silver blushed.

“Good to see you again, Ruth,” Lindel said pleasantly. “Keeping a sharp eye on our favorite girl, are you?”

“Of course,” Ruth said. “She’s been getting plenty of rest, but she’s not eating as much as I’d prefer.”

Chise sighed heavily. “Elias’s fussing is bad enough, but having a fae nanny breathing down my neck all day is really irritating.”

Lindel laughed softly. “I would imagine so.”

Chise showed him her old room upstairs with Ruth trailing behind, where Silver had surprised her one day by converting it into a nursery. Silver, at least, seemed very excited about the new additions to the family and was going to extraordinary lengths to make sure the house was ready for their arrival.

The brand-new cupboards were stacked with blankets and swaddling and dressing gowns and cloth diapers, all handmade by Silver. There were double changing tables and bassinets, set side by side, and even a rocking chair next to the window. Chise had no idea where all the new furniture had even come from. Silver had used neutral colors to decorate the room: a mix of light and dark browns and soft purples and blues. The walls had been painted with a mural of wildflowers and trees, and the floor was plush grass-green carpet, as though the room was outside in a meadow. It was beautiful. Chise had cried and hugged Silver for quite a while when Silver presented it to her.

Ah, mood swings.

Elias had not been prepared for these emotional outbursts and, quite frankly, neither had Chise. She’d go from really happy to really sad to really annoyed all in the span of a few minutes. It was rather dizzying for the both of them. Ruth tried to warn Elias when they were coming, but he couldn’t always tell, so they were often blindsided by a sudden explosion of emotion that even Chise didn’t always understand. He supposed there was some comfort to be found in the fact that she was just as confused as he was.

Chise showed Lindel Elias’s study, and her workroom beyond where she practiced her spellcraft, and then decided to take a break in the garden. Lindel sat with Chise, talking animatedly about the baby dragons and happily eating Silver’s sandwiches and cakes. It was probably a nice change from stew. He even coaxed a song from Chise, one he had taught her in Icelandic about a hungry raven that slept beneath rock rifts. She had missed singing with him.

The sound of their voices raised in song brought Elias out to join them. He hadn’t heard her sing in some time and was pleased to hear it. She only sang when she was in a good mood. The resonance of their voices made the trees stand straighter, the flowers bloom brighter, and the sunlight shine gently upon them without being overpowering. When Lindel and Chise worked together, everything they touched was magic. Elias couldn’t help but be a little jealous of that.

The visit was a splendid one that did much to brighten Chise’s spirit. Before long, Lindel felt the aerie calling his heart home and left Chise with a hug and well-wishes. He even shook Elias’s hand.

Lindel snapped and sparked and was gone in a flurry of snow and cinders. Chise was sorry to see him go. She really felt as though Lindel was a surrogate father. When he called her his daughter, there had been weight to it. He genuinely meant it.

Chise made to go inside, but Elias took her by the hand to stop her, looking off into the woods.

“I believe we may have further visitors,” He said, taking his veil and flinging it over his face. He pointed to the treeline.

There, almost invisible under the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, stood a fae woman of indescribable beauty. Her black hair trailed behind her and brushed the ground as she walked, and her skin was as smooth as the petals of a lily. Her eyes, the colors of which shifted as though iridescent, were locked on Chise from where she stood motionless in the shadow. How long she had been there, no one could say, but her attention was on Chise and nothing else.

“Lady Titania,” Chise breathed.

As though summoned, Titania stepped out of the shelter of trees and began to walk toward them. Spriggan stepped out of her shadow, the gold rings adorning his staff jingling as he walked. He looked as surly as ever.

“My dear, sweet robin,” Titania said, holding her arms out to Chise and she stepped forward. “Oh! Isn’t it so wonderful!”

“I assume the little folk have informed you of Chise’s condition,” Elias said.

“Oh,yes, my child. I can’t tell you how pleased I am! Oberon is beside himself.” She glanced back to the forest’s edge. Chise and Elias followed her gaze to see Oberon running to and fro, giggling like a child and throwing flowers into the air. Chise laughed softly and shook her head.

Titania returned her attention to Chise and touched her hand to Chise’s belly. “Look how far along you are! I must say, though, I am terribly put out that you hid it from us for so long.”

“I’m sorry,” Chise said. “I… it’s been… difficult.”

Titania took her face in her hands. “Poor child,” She said. “Do not despair. This is a blessing. What a wondrous gift it is to be mortal. The fae do not breed well with each other and as such, our children are rare. That’s why there are so many old tales among mortals about halflings, though such things are far less likely in this millenia.” Her gaze brushed across Elias’s tall form briefly. “I suppose it’s how your race proliferates so effectively. You’re like rabbits, in that way.” She giggled.

“Oh, what a wonderful turn of fate!” Oberon crooned gleefully, skipping around the group of them. “I can’t wait to see the new little mages. Is there any chance at all they’ll be blonde? Oh, nevermind, they’ll be adorable either way!”

“Titania,” Elias started, ignoring Oberon as he pranced around them, laying a flower crown on Chise’s head. “You have the gift of foresight. Can you…” He paused, clutching the fabric of his shirt over his chest, as though in pain. “Is there any way to tell… that is to say…” He stumbled to a stop.

“Elias,” Titania said kindly. “Ask your question plainly, and I shall answer as best as I can.”

Elias sighed. “The children… our children… will they be… like me? Half-creatures, hated and shunned for the sin of merely being alive in a world where they do not belong?”

Chise’s heart bled for him. It must have quite a blow to his pride to ask that question. She knew he’d never admit it to anyone, not even her, but the constant reminder that he was neither one or the other was something that caused him perpetual grief. The idea that he was terrified his own children would share this fate made Chise’s heart ache. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it consolingly.

“Oh, Thorn,” Titania said sadly. “I see branches; roads that split and diverge like serpents in the sea of potentiality. I see many possibilities, though some are more likely than others. I cannot give you a solid answer because the paths are still many and multiplying. I cannot tell you for certain what will be.” She laid a hand on his chest and smiled. “But would you like to know what I feel?”

He nodded, apprehensive.

“I feel love and joy,” She said. “I hear laughter echoing within the walls of this dwelling. Your children will have fragments of their father residing in them, as all children do, but they will have the protection and favor of all who love them. And there will be many who love them. They are blessed by the Queen of the Fae herself, and my blessing is no paltry trinket.”

“Titania, I…” Elias said, unable to continue.

Oberon slid over to his wife and winked at her, a wide smile on his face. He then turned to Elias.

“Do not fret, thorn child,” He said. “However tainted your lineage may be, you are still one of us, and your bride is beloved by our kind. Your children, then, will be doubly revered by all fae. You have no cause to worry.”

“Thank you. That is… very comforting,” He replied, though his tone said to Chise that he was still rather troubled.

Chise endured another few minutes of Titania and Oberon’s doting before they decided to depart. She felt rather relieved when they left. They could be a lot to handle all at once.

That night, lying in bed with Elias, the question he had asked the Faerie Queen revolved over and over in her mind.

“Elias?” She asked softly, trying not to wake Ruth. “Are you still awake?”

She couldn’t see his pupils, but he did answer. “Yes.”

She lay her hand on the back of his neck and stroked it. “Are you really worried about how the children will turn out?”

Elias sighed. “It does not matter to me what they will look like,” He said somberly. “But it will matter to humans. Experience has taught me well that mankind does not adapt quickly to things that are strange or unusual.” He turned his head to look at her. “The fae will not care about their appearance, either, but they will see them as my children, spawn of the halfling failure. That alone may be enough to draw the ire of the fae against them, despite what Titania and Oberon said. Those two have never failed in their kindness to me, but it is borne out of pity, not respect, and the rest of the fae are not so magnanimous. Some are indifferent to me, but most, like the Spriggan, are openly hostile. I do not wish for my children to suffer because of who their father is.”

“Oh, Elias,” Chise said, holding him close. “I wish I could--Oh!” Chise sat up abruptly, pulling the covers down and placing both hands on her belly.

“What?” He asked in alarm, turning to sit up. “What is it? Are you alright?”

“I felt them.”

“You did?” He asked.

“Yes,” She said, moving her hands around gingerly. “I felt a thumping on the inside. I felt some flutters before, but I was never sure what they were. That was definitely a kick.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at her abdomen.

In response, she took his hand and laid it down on her stomach, instructing him to wait. He did so, and it took nearly five minutes, but there was a distinct nudge against his hand.

Chise looked up and smiled at him, but his heart was in his throat. He couldn’t decide if he was excited or panicked. Talking about the baby, seeing her belly expand, making preparations: for some reason, none of that made it feel real. But this did. Feeling the tiny movements of the child on his own skin from the inside of her body was what made it reality to him.

“We should call on Shannon tomorrow,” Chise said. “I’m twenty weeks. It’s about time for a check-up.”

“Y-yes,” He said vaguely. “Of course.”

She took his face in her hands. “Are you all right?”

“I do not know,” He answered honestly. “I am… frightened.”

“I know,” She said. She laid her forehead on his.

They stayed that way for many minutes, their foreheads touching, his hand on her belly, feeling the little jumps and thumps of his children moving about inside. Frightened was not an adequate word for what he felt. He didn’t know if there was a word strong enough.

Time seemed to move very fast for a while, and then suddenly slowed to a snail’s pace. Before they knew it, it was winter. Chise had grown very large, and Shannon expected the babies to come a few days after the new year.

Chise kept to the house exclusively now, since moving was more difficult, not to mention that Elias was highly paranoid about her catching an illness in her condition. She spent much of the time nesting, which is an instinctual habit among mothers-to-be to make sure everything was in its proper place and perfect. Silver had taken care of most of that for her, but it didn’t stop Chise from folding and refolding all of the babies’ linens and making sure things were just so.

As the time for the birth came closer, the atmosphere of the house grew more and more anxious. Chise was rather sick of being pregnant and was ready to be able to stand without assistance and not eat what felt like half her body weight every day. Ruth was restless and impatient. He could feel the time getting closer just as acutely as Chise did.

If Chise was anxious and Ruth was restless, Elias was downright terrified. He spent a lot of time alone in his study, unable to control this emotion. He didn’t want to worry her more than she already was, but he couldn’t push away the awful feeling of dread.

He had slowly grown accustomed to the idea of the children, but not the possibility that they would take after him. The idea that they could be subjected to cruelty and discrimination for simply being his children made his blood run cold. How could he protect them against that kind of hatred? How could he shield them from the animosity of both humans and fae? He could weather it just fine; he was used to it, and some of it was deserved. He had once been a monster, after all. But they would be innocent and guileless. They didn’t deserve to be treated as he had been.

As much as he tried to hide his worry from Chise, he knew she felt it. He could see it on her face when she looked at him sometimes. It wasn’t pity that she showed him, but empathy. If anyone would understand, it would be her, but this was just one thing he couldn’t talk to her about. She always tried to soothe him and tell him things would be fine, but she had no way of knowing that for certain. Blind optimism just didn’t work for him.

Very late on the night before Christmas eve, a sharp yelp of pain woke Elias from sleep. It had been Ruth: he had bounced out of his bed and shot to Chise’s side, immediately switching to his human form. Chise was sitting curled around her stomach, gasping.

“Chise?” Elias asked.

“I think my water broke,” Chise gasped. “I’ve been having contractions, but they weren’t bad until now. We need Shannon.”

“Shannon! Silver!” Elias called.

A flash shot through the room. Elias turned on the lamp and found Shannon standing next to Chise, trying to pull her to her feet. The silky came through the door in an instant, a tub of hot water and many towels in her hands. It was almost as if she were waiting for the call.

Shannon had Chise sit on a wooden chair with a curved back, urging her to recline with her pelvis tilted out, putting a pillow behind her to support her back. Silver helped Chise out of her underwear and flipped the hem of her nightgown up over her stomach, exposing her entire lower half. Chise didn’t have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about her tender bits out for the entire room to see. The pain was pushing everything else out of her brain.

“Is it supposed to hurt this much?” Ruth gasped, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

“There are two living creatures the size of watermelons attempting to tear their way out of her body, Ruth. Yeah, it’s gonna hurt,” Shannon said dryly.

“Sorry, Ruth,” Chise said, breathing heavily. “I’m trying to block it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ruth said. “I don’t really care about me right now.”

“What can I do?” Elias asked anxiously.

“You and Ruth, get on either side. Both of you hold her hand with one of yours and then let her use your other hand to brace her feet on. She’s going to need the leverage when she starts pushing.”

Elias and Ruth, took their positions. Chise had already begun to sweat profusely and was breathing shallowly. Silver stood at her head, stroking her hair gently and ready with a cloth to wipe her brow.

“Deep breaths, Chise,” Shannon said, kneeling on the ground and pushing a gloved hand into Chise’s body to gauge her dilation. “Nine centimeters,” Shannon said, removing her hand. “Not quiet ready yet, but it’s going to be soon.”

Chise could only nod, attempting with little success to take deep breaths as she was instructed. Her head rolled to look at Elias with fear in her eyes.

“It’s too early,” She said in a terrified whisper. “I’m not due for another three weeks.”

“It’s all right,” Elias whispered, knowing he might be lying. “It will be all right.”

Chise had no choice but to wait until her body opened up enough to start pushing, and it took a few long, miserable hours of pain and sweating. By the time Shannon got into position, it was only an hour before dawn.

“Okay,” Shannon said. “Elias, Ruth, take one foot each and push it toward her chest, but not forcefully. Chise, take several deep breaths. When I say, take a very deep breath, hold it, and start pushing. When I count to ten, you can let go and breath again. Understand?”

Chise nodded, already very tired from the waves of pain she had been suffering over the past few hours. She steeled herself and began to take slow, deep breaths.

“Ready? Okay, deep, deep breath and push!”

Chise pulled in as much air as her lungs could take and held it, bracing her legs against Ruth and Elias’s grip, and pushed with all her might, her face pulled back in a grimace of pain and exertion.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten, and breathe,” Shannon instructed. Chise blew out her breath explosively and gulped in air.

“Okay, again. Deep breath, and push!”

It went on like this for quite a time. They only paused the pushing for Chise to drink water and for Silver to wipe the sweat from her face and neck. Elias talked in Chise’s ear during these brief moments of rest, telling her that she was strong and that he had faith in her. She seemed so tired, but she smiled at him and dotted a kiss on his nose in reply.

Finally, as the first rays of sunlight shone through the window, Shannon pulled a small, reddish-purple infant from Chise’s body. It shrieked as it took it’s first breaths of life, it’s color changing as it took in oxygen. Shannon placed the sticky ball of outrage on Chise’s chest for a moment, allowing the new mother to inspect the little creature for herself while Shannon detached the umbilical cord.

“It’s a baby girl,” Shannon said, smiling.

Chise let go of Ruth and Elias and wrapped her fingers around the tiny thing as it screamed it’s fury at them all. Chise was crying, too, but not in anger. Her face, red and sweaty though it was, lit with joy as she held her newborn daughter.

Suddenly, she seized up with a sudden contraction and hissed with pain. The baby was whisked out of her arms by Silver, who took it to a nearby dressing table to clean it.

“We’re halfway there,” Shannon said. “Let’s get ready. On the next contraction, we start the pushing again.”

Chise nodded, letting Ruth and Elias take hold of her feet and push them back.

Once the first baby was out, the second wasn’t far behind. It wailed more loudly than it’s twin, thrashing about angrily on Chise’s chest, though Chise clearly didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s another little girl,” Shannon said with a grin.

Tears poured from Chise’s eyes as she held her daughter, gasping from the effort of pushing. The touch of her mother’s hands had calmed the baby and she was no longer writhing spastically, but wiggling and making little grunting sounds, lying on her belly in Chise’s grasp.

After a moment, this child, too, was taken away for cleaning. Then there was more work to be done. The afterbirth had to be removed from Chise’s body, which caused a small fountain of blood to escape. Elias and Ruth panicked, but Shannon said this could happen sometimes and it wasn’t serious as long as it was contained quickly. She gave Chise a tea that would help stop the bleeding and once she had finished it, Silver lifted Chise as if she weighed nothing and took her to the bathroom for a proper cleaning. Shannon followed, leaving Ruth and Elias alone with the newborns, lying side by side and safely bundled up in the crib near Chise’s side of the bed.

While she was gone, Ruth went to inspect the babies up close. “Elias,” He called to the mage, who was still sitting in a daze. “Come and see.”

Elias stood with his heart pounding in his chest and walked to stand by Ruth, looking down at his brand new daughters with a lump in his throat. Now that they were cleaned, he could see them better. They were still wiggly and wrinkly, but there were distinct differences between the twins. One had a full head of white-blonde hair and a peachy-pink complexion, while the other had fine red fuzz on her head and was as pale as bleached bone.

“I remember the day that Isabelle was born,” Ruth said solemnly, lost in his memory. “I had only been with the family for a few months and I didn’t quite understand what was happening at the time. I didn’t know what a baby was. She was so tiny and weird-looking, but I loved her right away. We were together all the time after that. I existed for her; I’d have done anything for her.”

He stared down at the two sleeping infants, his eyes dark with recollection. “I took it for granted, thinking she’d always be there. I didn’t see the dangers until it was too late. I should have done more to protect her. If I had been a better brother, she might have lived a long, happy life. I didn’t do enough, and she died.” He reached out but stopped just short of touching the one with red hair. “For them, I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I promise.”

Elias did not respond. He stared down at his sleeping girls rather blankly.

Yes, He thought to himself. I, too, must be better.

Silver and Shannon returned with Chise, clean, wearing a fresh nightgown, and remarkably able to walk unassisted. Elias helped ease her back into the freshly changed bed, then Shannon handed Chise the white-haired baby girl. Shannon insisted that Chise try to breastfeed the baby, as it would help promote clotting. Silver went to work cleaning the gory aftermath off of the floor. Ruth, as a grim, sniffed each child keenly with his tail wagging.

It took a few tries and some urging to get the baby to latch to her breast; apparently babies weren’t born knowing how to do this and had to be taught, but once she found her way, she seemed to be content and fell asleep while feeding, her tiny arm resting on Chise’s skin. Elias watched curiously.

“You probably won’t be able to produce enough milk to fill both babies at the same time, so you might want to supplement with formula. You may even decide to go formula exclusively, which is fine. As long as they get the enzymes from your breastmilk at the start, it’ll be a big boost to their immune systems.”

Chise nodded without looking up, absorbed in the tiny little girl at her breast with it’s little fist around Chise’s finger. She seemed to finish quickly, and Chise lifted the baby for Elias to hold.

“Chise…” He said nervously. “I don’t… I can’t… I don’t think…”

“It’s okay, Elias,” Chise said with a smile. “You’re going to have to hold them at some point. Might as well be now.”

“Just remember to support the head,” Shannon said. “The neck muscles are underdeveloped.”

“Here,” She sat up and, holding the baby in one arm, used her hand to make a cradle of his. “Like this.”

Exercising more care than he ever had in his entire existence, he took the tiny bundle into his arms, cradling it gently. He could feel the warmth of it’s little body through the blankets, as though he were holding a glowing coal. He lifted her up so he could inspect her more closely. As he did so, she opened her eyes for the first time and looked up at him. Her eyes were the color of evergreens, like her mother. But unlike her, the pupils were not round but slits, like that of a wild creature. The eyes of a fae. The eyes of a mage.

“Chise, look,” Elias said, bending to show her. Chise, who had taken the red-haired babe and was feeding her from the other breast, peered at the child Elias held and smiled. Her smile faded and her eyes narrowed curiously.

“What is it?” Elias asked.

“Look at her head, a little bit above the hairline. There’s a bump. No, there’s two, one on either side. Do you see them?”

Elias brought the baby close to his face, examining her closely. There was, indeed, some sort of bump there. Carefully readjusting his grip, he felt the bumps with his finger. They felt like… bone? No, not bone…

“Horns,” Elias said softly. “She has horns.”

Chise laughed softly, her eyes warm with affection. “You certainly can’t deny she’s yours, can you?”

He looked down at her, a new warmth spreading though his chest. “No…” He said. “I cannot.”

“Have you decided on names?” Shannon asked, sitting on the other side, monitoring the mother and her little ones closely.

Elias was taken aback. It wasn’t something he had even thought about. He’d been so preoccupied with his doubts and fears that he hadn’t room to think of anything else.

“It is Christmas Eve,” Chise said, looking out of the snow covered windows. She looked at the little redhead, sleeping peacefully in her arms. “Her hair reminds me of holly berries, so why don’t we call her Holly?” She smiled and gazed at the white-haired child Elias clutched to him. “And with her green eyes, she should be named Ivy.”

Elias sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, bending to nuzzle her head.

“Yes,” He said fondly. “It’s perfect.”

After both parents had a turn holding both of their infant girls, they gave Silver and Ruth a chance. Ruth was anxious and attentive, fearful of being clumsy or accidentally jostling his new nieces and upsetting them, but Silver seemed overjoyed to hold the tiny babes, smiling brightly and giggling at their noises. A better nanny than Silver Lady could not be found anywhere, either in the mortal realm or the kingdom of the fae. Chise had a feeling she was going to be relying heavily on her for the next few months.

While holding Holly, Silver made a small noise of surprise.

“Silver?” Chise said. “What is it?”

Silver brought the baby to the bed and knelt down between Elias and Chise, where the parents could see the newborn’s eyes. The irises were solid black and didn’t reflect light, instead seeming to consume it. The pupils, however, were red. Not the bright holly red of her hair, but a dark crimson red, like blood on snow, and they too were mere slits.

“Oh,” Chise breathed. “Look at that. Aren’t they beautiful?”

Elias, seeing the trace his own eyes looking back at him from his daughter’s face, was at a loss for words.

His children were mostly human, it seemed, but they retained a piece of him, a fragment of his fae blood, just as Titania said. Before, this thought made him worry about their future, but seeing them now, he felt… what was this? It was a good feeling, but it carried weight with it. Pride? Was that it? Did he feel proud? Perhaps so.

After a while, Shannon insists that everyone leave the room to the new parents and their children, and Elias settled himself in a chair beside the bed, with Chise on his left side and the crib on the right. All three of his girls were sleeping peacefully. Ivy seemed content in being wrapped up in her swaddling, but Holly had kicked her way out of the blankets so that she could move freely.

He watched them sleep with mixed emotions, laying his hands on the stomachs of the babes, comforted by their warmth. As if waiting for this, they both reached out and gripped his fingers in their fists and held on with a surprisingly strong grip.

The world could have been falling down around them, but as long as they were safe and happy, it wouldn’t have bothered him. He found he didn’t care all that much at the moment about the concerns that had plagued him before the birth, though he knew they would come back eventually. He felt warm and calm, with none of the anxiety that had been gnawing at his mind for months. Was this feeling happiness? Peace?

He could identify at least one emotion well enough: love. It was different than what he felt for Chise, but no less consuming. Chains of gold and silver had wrapped themselves around his heart. They sprung from the touch of his tiny daughters’ small hands on his own, an unbreakable link that bound him to his newly-born flesh and blood. Instinct drove this behavior, and it was obvious what it meant. They had laid claim to him.

They do not belong to me, he realized. I belong to them. How fascinating.

He had lived for centuries never having tethered himself to any other being. Back then, loneliness and being alone were mutually exclusive concepts. He’d had friendships and acquaintances but felt no obligation to any of them beyond an occasional favor or trade. At the time, he had thought himself content.

When he had acquired Chise on a whim out of mere curiosity, he had not anticipated how his life would change. The connection that developed between them, as slow as it was to manifest openly, was unlike anything he’d felt before. It brought with it many good feelings, as well as many unpleasant ones. Chise’s love was easy enough to earn, but he soon discovered that while love could be unconditional, trust was not. He hadn’t known there was a difference between those emotions until he had betrayed them.

For a while after, their bond was fragile and could snap with any slight pressure he applied to it. It had taken much time and effort on his part to repair the damage he had done, and he had sworn never to do anything that could sever that link again.

But the bond he felt to these two new lives was instantaneous and indestructible, something over which he had no control. He was, for lack of a better term, spellbound.

“I don’t understand.”

Elias jumped slightly at Chise’s soft whisper. He looked over to see that she was awake and staring are her children.

“What is it you do not understand, Little Bird?” Elias replied quietly.

“I thought,” She said. “I thought when they were born, it would make more sense, but it doesn’t. I thought it would help me understand why they did it.”

“Your parents,” He said. It wasn’t a question.

“I thought that once I was a parent myself, I could see it from their perspective, and I’d understand. But I don’t. I would never, ever leave them. I could never hurt them. Never.” She looked at Elias and took his hand. “What they did still makes no sense to me. I guess you were right, Elias. I am different.”

“Yes,” He said, holding her hand to his cheek. “Do not be sad, Chise. That is a wonderful thing.”

She smiled, and her gaze returned to the infants. “You’re right. It is.”

During the first two months, which Chise and Elias used to get accustomed to the new routine of parenthood, the twins developed personalities that were as different as their appearance. Holly was an independent little thing and didn’t like to be swaddled or held for too long, while Ivy loved to be cuddled and preferred to be held by Elias over anyone else. He was more than happy to hold her at all times and soon became deft at doing things one-handed.

After this necessary adjustment time, they decided to have a small gathering of friends over to properly introduce their children. They had invited Stella, the Barley family, Alice, a few friends from the college including the brooding Adolf and enthusiastic Tori, and even Renfred. Over the years, Elias and Renfred had forged a tense acquaintanceship. Chise encouraged them to be better friends, but in the end, she figured anything was better than open hostility.

They had invited Lindel, too, but he didn’t want to leave the aerie again. He insisted they bring them to him instead, which they promised to do when the children were a few months older.

“Aren’t they darling?” Angelica said, looking at Holly sleeping in sixteen-year-old Althea’s arms.

“They really are,” Stella said, now nineteen, as she tickling Ivy’s feet while David held her. The baby cooed at Stella as she did so.

“Ya did good, Chise,” Alice said. “You cooked up some real nice babies in there.” She poked Chise’s stomach, which was now much smaller and thankfully no longer sore.

“That’s a weird phrase, Alice, thank you,” Chise said.

Renfred had been mostly quiet during the gathering. Alice had told Chise that babies make him nervous; he liked kids better when they were old enough to follow orders.

Elias was similarly uncomfortable with so many people in his house at once, and eventually, it drove him outside to the garden. Cold though it was, he sat at the garden table with his tea and sighed.

“Are they not lovely?” A voice said to him from his right. He turned to see a small, child-like figure standing there nearby. She wore a simple white gown made of thin silk and a crown of baby’s breath around her head. A circle of snow underneath her feet had melted away and flowers had sprung up all around her. Her hair was black, her skin like petals, her eyes like the wings of a dragonfly.

“Titania,” Elias said, standing. “You’ve come alone.”

“I have, though I shan’t be long,” She said, her voice belying her youthful appearance. “I bring with me gifts for your little ones.”

“Gifts?”

“Yes. The heartache you expressed when last we met has stayed with me. I felt compelled to do something to set your mind at ease.” She opened her hands, and lying in each palm was a ring carved of dark wood, one on a gold string, the other on a silver one. “I told you your offspring held my favor, did I not?” She asked. “That was not a lie. You need not worry for their safety from our kind. These will tell all fae creatures that your babes are my godchildren and therefore under my protection.”

Elias did not recall agreeing to such an arrangement, but accepted the rings with a bow.

“Thank you, my Lady,” He said. “This is most generous.”

“You must bring them to visit us, Thorn,” Titania said. “It’s been so long since there were children in the Faerie Kingdom. Oberon is dying to meet the new magelings.”

Elias nodded without speaking, not committing to this. He wondered if her favor extended to not trapping them in the faerie realm.

“Be well, Elias. Take care of our sweet robin and those beautiful children. Dwell no longer on the darkness in your past and look instead to your future. Your legacy now resides in those new souls that you created, and not the mistakes you have made. You have been given a divine gift. Do not take it for granted.”

“I assure you, Lady,” He said seriously. “I have no intention of doing so.”

She smiled at him, and the body she inhabited burst apart into flowers and floated away like the seeds of a dandelion, carried away on a sudden wind that smelled strangely of spring grass.

Elias lifted his gaze to watch the petals drift away, putting the charms in his pocket.

Once everyone had gone home and the house was quiet again, Elias picked up a wailing Ivy, who quieted immediately, and sat with Ruth and Chise as Silver laid out their dinner. Chise fed Holly with one arm and fed herself with the other. Once Holly finished, Chise passed her to Ruth to be burped and held out her arms for Ivy, who Elias passed carefully over the dinner table. Silver waited at Ruth’s elbow with a spit-up cloth. They all seemed to be easing into this new normal well.

Elias and Chise took the children to their room and laid them down for sleep, with Ruth curled up on the floor between them. He was better than a baby monitor. Ruth was taking his oath to Elias to protect the children very seriously and was just as involved in their care as every other person in the house. It seemed there was no shortage of babysitters to be found for the new parents, and Chise found that comforting. The nightmare she’d once had of being overwhelmed with caring for two children at once with limited help faded from her mind.

With the children abed for a least a couple of hours, Elias and Chise took this time to spend with each other, something they hadn’t had much opportunity to do since the birth. They sat together on the couch of the sitting room, Chise in Elias’s lap and wrapped up warmly in his arms. She was so tired, she could have fallen asleep if she let herself.

“I’m sorry the party got too claustrophobic for you,” Chise said, twining and untwining her fingers with his.

“It’s all right,” Elias said. “I am actually glad for it. I’d much prefer that the girls were introduced to all our friends at once rather than make many trips to achieve the same result.” Reaching into his waistcoat’s pocket, he pulled out the ring pendants he had gotten. “Besides, while outside, Titania left a give with me.”

Chise took the trinkets and looked at them curiously. “That was nice of her. What are they for?”

“Protection, she said. It’ll ward off any of her kind that would do them mischief.”

Chise smiled. “She’s very thoughtful for a fae.”

“Yes,” Elias agreed. “I wonder if she will extend the same blessing to any additional children we may have.”

Chise swung and looked up in surprise. “You want more children?”

“It's not outside the realm of possibility. We can talk about it later,” Elias replied.

“You're serious. You really want another baby?”

“I merely said we’d talk about it.”

“That’s not a no.”

Elias laughed.

“Give me a year, at least,” Chise said in exasperation. “My body isn’t ready for another one so soon.”

“If you wish,” He said, hugging her tightly.

They sat happily in each other’s arms for the next hour, taking a well deserved rest, until one of the babies began to cry. Elias released her and followed her up the stairs to the childrens' room, where he consoled Holly as Ivy fed. When Ivy was done, they switched. After feeding, the infants resumed sleeping. Before they left, Elias affixed the charms to the wall above their bassinets, the silver one over Ivy, and the gold protecting Holly. The parents, exhausted, climbed into their own bed and fell asleep at once.

Every day brought something new, and Elias was learning so much so quickly. His entire universe had shifted, and thought it had taken time to get used to it, he greeted each wonderful development as they happened with an open heart. He awoke eagerly every morning in his new life, looking forward to what might be.

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laydiralchanc1985-blog · 6 years ago

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Until one random day last year. It went like this: Yoona most popular, Taeyeon the vocalist and most popular within the fandom, Seohyun the prettiest, Yuri who looks like Seohyun, Hyoyeon the dancer Tiffany the American, Sunny the not so pretty one. Oh right "Jessica" but I don recall her face right now. Another night, there's like 5 hunting. And it depends on your channel. I have a channel I hunt where most of the time the competition is less. /smaybe I just dont like hardcore GoT fans. Idk. Its ruined the show for me though. And, my wedding is outside.) This is where I just laugh because there's nothing left to do. My period is especially infuriating because I've been prophylactically taking birth control pills for over 3 months so I could purposefully skip my heavy 아산출장샵 and erratic periods on my wedding day (I have an IUD so I already had birth control and wasn't relying on the pills for baby blocking). I tell this story to nervous future brides to remind them that your body, and nature for that matter, don't give a fuck about what day you've selected to get married. The doctors at a walk in clinic are just as capable as all other family doctors so they shouldn push you away if they really think that you have ADHD. But having grown up in Canada, sometimes you really have to insist and push your family doctor to get what you need so sometimes a little exaggeration wouldn hurt. Also, seeing a psychiatrist is free in Canada and it always takes so damn long to get referred (took me almost 6 months before I saw my psychiatrist for the first time) so you should get on that asap regardless.. I was in New Orleans one random week last November. My friend that lives there told me to go to One Eyed Jack but not why. He took me to my first burlesque show. TAS PRAKEIKTAS IKRYPLIS IO NAMO KIEME RURI LAIKYTI SAVO SIDABRINS SPALVOS VOLVO NR. F E M 060. JO PRAKEIKT, NESVEIK PIMPAL, KURIS STOVI TIK PRIE BENDRADARBIUS DUE, ARBA TIK SESERS BUTE REIKT PACIAM ISIGIMLIUI SUGRSTI GERKL PRAKEIKTAM LYKTYNEI. 144 points submitted 4 hours agoThe people who find me annoying are the internet marketers, online sellers, and social media startup guys. This isn surprising. I think what they do is super hyper competitive and you have to be in the top 5% to thrive as an entrepreneur in those spaces. I do it all day every day don't feel like my life is shittier for it, why is it so damn hard for men to do the same?When I was 18/19 I worked in a pharmacy the older women always turned the heat up. I was burning up one day said "I'm so hot!" My 55 65 year old boss leaned over to me in the creepiest voice possible said "yes you are". I probably made a half smile laughed it off but I never told anyone. It would have been more interesting if you looked at his history before joining the chantry or something more but I was disappointed by his story 15 points submitted 28 days agoI really don like Leliana. My first thoughts upon meeting her in Lothering, which have lingered ever since, are "Oh this is a crazy lady." She probably at her best in Inquisition, since you can actually 아산출장샵 show her she a little, y unstable and homicidal and at her worst in Origins when she convinced herself she the Maker perfect messenger but I have yet to actually like her. Blackwall came out of nowhere, so why is it fine that he added to the game but it not ok if Briala/Celene/Fiona/Cole etc are added because they were in the books? Like you don need to know about them beforehand before you play, but if you want to find out more about them they could.>Anders isn the trash heap people think he is.

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thenightling · 7 years ago

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My Fictional Character obsessions as depicted in gifs

My obsessions from age ten onward as depicted in gifs. Some of these characters have alternated in cycles over the years. The ones with the * next to them are ones that have stood the test of time or are particularly strong obsessions. I am not posting them in a particular order, that would take too long to sort out and may change depending on my mood, however the current strongest obsession is at the bottom.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my fictional character obsessions through the years... Or as Tumblr calls them... My “Garbage children.”

Note: I know only some of them count as “garbage children.” So please don’t be offended that I may have called your favorite character a garbage child.

Rumplestiltskin as depicted in the show Once Upon a Time, particularly seasons 1 through 3.

*Loki from Norse mythology and Marvel comics. Tom Hiddleston is a great actor but I felt I should note that the MCU version is slightly disappointing, I wish they wouldn’t downplay the magick and try to pass them off as “alien.”

*Dracula. There are many depictions of Dracula that I am fond of / obsessed with. Fred Saberhagen’s Dracula books for example, The Frank Wildhorn Dracula musical, and a few movie and TV versions.

I love the 90s Dracula TV series even though he’s blond in that (not to be confused with the awful NBC show version from the twenty teens) but I have no Gifs of the 90s one. Nor do I have any gifs of Rudolf Martin as Dracula in Buffy or Dark Prince: The True Story of Dracula though I love that one. But here’s the most recent version to feed my obsession. Dracula of Castlevania (The Netflix series). Look at that Adorkable vampire!

*Jack Skellington of Nightmare before Christmas was one of my first truly all-consuming obsessions. I played the cassette of the soundtrack to death. I had a shelf of the toys (which were actually rare in the early 90s). I became fixated on Danny Elfman’s singing voice as well as the gorgeous and haunting visuals.

Sally, who helped kindle my first Frankenstein obsession because until then I had never seen an intelligent Frankenstein monster. I hadn’t yet learned that in the original novel he was articulate (once he learned how to speak) and intelligent, and did not have a flat head or neck bolts. Sally and later The Bride (1985 movie) eventually got me to read the novel and pointed me in the right direction.

The ORIGINAL Peter Vincent from Fright Night, as played by Roddy McDowell. I loved his character growth. I loved watching him go from cowardly pretender to being the hero he always pretended to be and still having that B movie cheese to him. Peter Vincent is my favorite vampire hunter. Named after two of my favorite horror movie actors. Peter Cushing and Vincent Price.

Lestat. Yes, I went through an Anne Rice obsession in my teens. What 90s teenager didn’t?

The Dresden Files TV series, particularly Bob The Ghost AKA Hrothbert of Bainbridge as played by Broadway great, Terrence Mann. Though short lived I loved that snarky ghost and this introduced me to the book series. It was also the first TV series I enjoyed after my mother passed away so it has a special bittersweet place in my heart.

Another ghost character I love but I have no picture for him is Captain Gregg from the novel, movie, and TV show The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. And Patrick Stewart as The Canterville Ghost from 1995 (as well as the original Oscar Wilde Story).

Jareth from Labyrinth (and David Bowie). Does he need an explanation?

Morbius from Marvel comics. Because I just loved that emo SOB.

Nick on Forever Knight. I went through an emo vampire phase in the 90s, okay...

The Doctor on Doctor Who

Methos from Highlander the series. Highlander the series was a LOT better than people give it credit for. And Methos was the first fictional character with a truly dark past I had ever seen, who mostly became a decent person after years of penance and self analysis. It was through Highlander that I finally saw fiction and characters with shades of grey and realized things aren’t always black and white. When they revealed Methos’ dark past I was so worried it was an excuse to kill him off and show that he was secretly evil all along but no. They didn’t do that. Highlander taught me just how much people CAN change. And it also taught me a lot about history and inspired me to be curious about our world and its past. (It also often helped me with Social Studies tests.)

Frank Langella as Dracula.

Faust from Goethe’s Faust. (The 1926 silent film is the most faithful adaptation and actually covers Faust and Faust Part 2. Most adaptations leave out Part 2).

Thomas Jerome Newton from The Man who fell to Earth. Movie and novel by Walter Tevis. Yes, depicted in the movie by David Bowie... You’re lucky Bowie doesn’t turn up more in this list than he already does.

Maleficent. This one is kind of a guilty pleasure...

As a long time book lover (One the first books I remember reading and loving was In a Dark Dark Room by Alvin Shwartz at age four...) Belle from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast was the first Disney Princess I truly related to.

Elisa and “Charlie” from The Shape of Water.

The Beast / Prince and Belle in Le Belle et la Bete original 1740 novel and the 2014 French film (even though that film isn’t all that faithful and Belle is a little cold, I love the visuals).

*Luke Goss as the Frankenstein Monster from the 2004 Hallmark mini-series of Frankenstein. The most faithful adaptation of the novel to date. Woefully under-rated. Note, this spot is for the literary character too.

*Puck from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream AND Disney’s Gargoyles. I love that little bastard.

Mina and Dracula in Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992 film)

Emily The Corpse Bride. Also pretty much anything scored by Danny Elfman gets a slight nod here. I love that man’s music. It just catches me. And I always can tell when it’s one of his scores (And no, I don’t think they all sound the same). They’re just so beautiful and haunting.

The Frankenstein Monster in Penny Dreadful. The second most accurate to the novel. They even go the eyes right.

The Real Ghostbusters animated series. Egon is what inspired me to want to study parapsychology. I loved the nerd characters in shows like this.

Barnabas Collins in the original Dark Shadows. And 1990s version. And Doctor Julia Hoffman, a surprisingly empowered character for a 1960s TV show, which is why it annoys me that more “modern” versions always make her sexually obsessed with Barnabas or a villain or both whereas in the original show she was Barnabas’ closest confidant and even the one Barnabas cried out for whenever he was in trouble. (Admittedly it took hundreds of episodes for them to develop that dynamic but they got there).

Lucifer. TV show incarnation and Sandman comics incarnation.

Cain and The House of Mystery (The House of Mystery counts as a character)

*Morpheus from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman. My current biggest obsession. I’m making up for lost time. This is something I SHOULD have been obsessed with in my teens. I’m thirty-six-years-old and was thirty-five-years-old when I read it for the first time. Why the Hell did no one describe this thing well to me back in the 90s!? Yes, Sandman started when I was only seven-years-old but it was most popular in the mid-90s and I would have probably loved it if I only really knew what it was all about. Instead it was always “He’s like a Goth Jareth” (which almost worked) and “You’ll love Death! She’s so cute!” (which totally didn’t work at all...) Don’t protect me from spoilers, damn it! Tell me about his character growth, the gorgeous artwork, the horror hosts residing in The Dreaming, tell me about the mythology and Shakespeare references, the lore, tell me about the ambiance, the atmosphere, the humor and pathos. For God’s sake, I SHOULD have loved this thing a LONG time ago!

You’d be amazed how hard it is to find a gif of Morpheus- he’s never had a film or TV adaptation but there are fan films! (The gif is from The Sandman fan film, 24 Hour Diner).

________________________________

Honorable mentions:

Lydia from the Beetlejuice animated series (My mother’s best friend often compared me to her but I think I had a crush on the character...)

Xena: Warrior Princess (when I figured out I’m not entirely straight). Though I think I liked Gabrielle a little more than Xena, herself.

The mermaid in She-Creature (2001 film, not the black and white film of the same name)

The Crypt Keeper from Tales from the Crypt.

Carmilla (vampire novella and Hammer horror film The Vampire Lovers)

Duncan Macleod from Highlander the series.

Various characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer (TV series) including Buffy herself, Giles and Spike.

Doctor Strange (And in relation to that, Doctor Craven from the Vincent Price movie The Raven from 1963.)

Bruce “David” Banner in The Incredible Hulk, particularly as depicted by Bill Bixby. Though that was more of a role model personality type that I saw as a truly good man in a bad situation.

Dorian Gray from the Picture of Dorian Gray

Elisa in Disney’s Gargoyles but I idolized her more than obsessed about her. There is a difference.

The reason those aren’t properly on the list is because those aren’t precisely obsessions but just characters I happened to really like a lot.

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theeurekaproject · 4 years ago

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Mortuus Reginae

“I will never understand your insatiable desire for attention.” “I will never understand your propensity for completely unnecessary insults.” “It’s just banter. You’re oversensitive.” “Banter is tasteless.” “Who are you, the Imperatrix of Eleutheria?” “Yes.”

Andromeda groaned. “Fine. I surrender. I still don’t get why all of this is needed, though.” Acidalia’s landing had been as theatrical and overly dramatic as she could possibly make it; the Revelation’s white exterior glimmered in Base Alpha’s fluorescent lighting like a beacon that screamed I’m Acidalia Cipher, come and get me. That ship had top-notch cloaking systems, but the extravagant flamboyance and beauty of its design made them kind of moot; sure, enemy ships couldn’t track it from a distance, but anyone with eyes could see the massive white mansion-with-an-engine hovering in front of them. If Acidalia had gotten ambushed and murdered on her way back from her impromptu journey to Mars, Andromeda wouldn’t have been the least bit sympathetic.

Then again, she wasn’t too sympathetic of Acidalia on a day-to-day basis, anyway—but Acidalia didn’t to know that. It was really better for her and everyone else if the Imperatrix Ceasarina continued to think of Andromeda as her right-hand-man, and honestly, there was no harm in that; they were on the same side, and they were brilliant leaders with levels of genius the rest of the movement could hardly hope to aspire to. If them getting along meant that Andromeda had to continue to pretend that she actually enjoyed spending time with this insufferable, melodramatic, over-glorified princess with more money than God, then so be it. She’d met worse people before.

Still, she grated her teeth a little bit as Acidalia’s face came into her field of vision. Maybe it was Andromeda’s high-definition cybernetic eye that made Acidalia look more annoying than she actually was… or maybe it was just her obnoxious, holier-than-thou personality.

Well, her absence had been nice while it lasted.

Acidalia was dressed in a long, sweeping dress intricate enough to be a wedding gown, because of course she was. If marriage was still a thing in Eleutheria, she’d have looked exactly like a bride. A delicate, sheer veil was draped over her perfectly-curled hair—a symbol of mourning that wouldn’t be obvious to anyone who didn’t know her intimately enough to understand that she was exactly the type to still use mourning veils, but only when they were bleached white enough to match her style. Andromeda almost wanted to ask what the point of a bleached-white mourning veil was—didn’t its brightness kind of defeat the purpose?—but she already knew the answer; like everything else Acidalia ever did, it was for the aesthetic.

“You look absolutely ridiculous,” she snapped, motioning to the veil. She realized suddenly that it was topped by a pearlescent quartz tiara studded with diamond flowers, and mentally facepalmed.

“My brother is dead,” Acidalia said cooly. Next to her, David Seren shot Andromeda an ugly glare. She’d have told him to stuff a sock in it if his daughter wasn’t standing right next to him.

“Then I guess we’re on even footing,” Andromeda shrugged.

Acidalia’s expression didn’t even change. “You never had any brothers,” she said.

“And now you don’t, either. See?” The see? at the end was unnecessary, but being patronizing felt good, and Andromeda had no time for this type of sentimental bullshit. Acidalia may as well have weighted herself down with six feet of black crape like the widows of old. Leave it to the Imperatrix to turn the death of a seventeen-year-old—who was, naturally, in no way special in any sense of the word when his relationship to Acidalia was removed from the picture—into a whole big elaborate production combined with a fashion statement.

Acidalia’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You know that witnessing a sibling’s death and being born an only child are two objectively different things, Praetor.”

Andromeda groaned internally at the use of her title, which Acidalia only used when she was trying to be quietly passive-aggressive. It carried the same weight as a parent referring to their child by her first, middle, and caste name all at the same time, and she had a sudden flashback of hearing someone yell Andromeda Amalura, Labora! and knowing she was in trouble. When most people called her a Praetor, she felt powerful—it was the highest military rank anyone in the Revolution could achieve, and she was quite proud of it—but Acidalia managed to make it seem infantilizing, and perhaps the most infuriating thing was that Andromeda responding to it would only make her look more childish.

“Everyone here has lost someone,” she said, hoping she was coming across as stern instead of angry. “You know how many seventeen-year-old boys die on a daily basis? T wasn’t special.”

“Every person’s life is special,” David Seren said with faux-fatherly wisdom.

Andromeda rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m so very sorry for not dropping everything to mourn some random kid who was exactly as special as every other random kid who ever dropped dead. It’s almost like I don’t place any extra value on his life just because he was related to a powerful woman… or I thought that’s what you wanted? Unless nepotism is acceptable now.” “I never said that. Stop putting words in my mouth—“ “She’s right, David,” Acidalia interrupted, sighing. “More people are going to die if we don’t start coming back from this, and none of those soldiers’ lives are inherently more valuable than T’s was. If he were still alive, he never would have wanted more boys being sent off to their doom because the leadership couldn’t get its lives together.” David’s expression softened, but he still didn’t look entirely too pleased with Andromeda, who decided not to dignify him with a response. She could not possibly care less about the opinions of a random Martian farmer—or secretary of agriculture, whatever the hell that was—when it came to her relationship with Acidalia and her job. “Okay,” she said briskly. “Now that we’ve got that conversation over with, we should probably focus on the imminent military threats, which are much more important to me personally than the death of a guy whose body we can’t even recover. Anyone else agree?” “Yes,” Acidalia said, “but you don’t have to be so crass about it.” “More like you don’t have to be an asshole about it,” murmured a random girl Andromeda had never met before in her life. She was about to retort, but Acidalia said softly, “she’s just being pragmatic, Athena.” “Why do you defend her?” David asked.

“Because her heart’s in the right place, and she’s a military genius.” Andromeda smiled. That’s more like it.

“Can’t argue with that,” David said, “but—“ “No buts,” Andromeda interrupted. “We’re going to the Scorpio. Move.”

***

The Scorpio was the exact opposite of the Revelation in every way, and that was just how Andromeda liked it.

It always astounded her how this military ship—a ship that was pretty much held together with duct tape, no less—managed to be more welcoming and human than the most expensive cruiser the entirety of the solar system had to offer. The Scorpio was a monument to Andromeda’s achievements, but it was organic, living, full of humanity—not some stiff white statue dedicated to short-lived Imperial beauty. She loved it like she’d love her own child—if she liked children, which she didn’t—and she felt that the affection was well-deserved; this ship had seen so many battles and bore so many scars on its steely black hull that it practically warranted its own Purple Heart.

Acidalia, of course, didn’t see it that way. She hated the Scorpio, but she was too infuriatingly polite to say so, and Andromeda didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

As they crossed the threshold of the ship, Andromeda felt everything in the left side of her body settle. Her cybernetics liked this place, and they had enough of a mind of their own that Andromeda thought it best to keep them happy. Human or otherwise, she was more than ready to grant rights to the systems that controlled her labored breathing and the pulse of her overworked heart (hearts? She’d lost track of her organs years ago—they were too numerous and fickle for her to remember any of them, anyway.) The mechanical half of her brain emitted a surge of dopamine, or something like it, in the same way a cat purred in contentment, and Andromeda’s organic mind had to agree with it—the Scorpio was home.

“Take your shoes off,” she called to the crowd behind her. (Why were there so many people here? she wondered. Acidalia and David, of course, and David’s teenage daughter—but who had invited two Scientias, a mutant cantrix, and a random AX-class to this meeting?) Nonetheless, they all complied, even Acidalia—who, Andromeda noticed with annoyance, was wearing ridiculously tall high-heeled shoes that probably cost more than this entire base. She zoomed in on one of them with her left eye and saw diamond fire flickering in the center of each tiny gemstone—yep, those shoes were definitely worth somewhere in the millions to billions of dollars. And Acidalia had just casually tossed them to the side like they were $10 clearance pumps she bought from a department store. Of course she did—if a single jewel broke, she could have a dozen new pairs made for her by tomorrow, each more diamond-studded and more valuable than the last.

“You seem frustrated,” Acidalia said, deliberately non-confrontationally.

“Yeah, well, I’d like to get this show on the road before all of Terra gets invaded by blue alien fish people,” Andromeda replied pointedly. She couldn’t do much, not when Acidalia was mourning a brother and dressed like an overgrown flower girl—anything Andromeda could possibly say would make her look like an asshole. If there was anything Acidalia excelled at, it was delicate, verbal manipulation, and she would have everyone convinced she was the victim within thirty seconds of being insulted. So Andromeda had to speak like a military commander who was worried about her movement instead of an irritated peer who didn’t like the notion of spending millions of credits on shoes, and nobody would judge Acidalia at all. Such is life—or, as Acidalia herself would have said, c’est la vie (because of course she spoke fluent Francogallicus, a language that had been dead for over ten centuries. Again, aesthetic.)

Andromeda shook her head, trying to clear it. She was a Praetor, above all—and that meant that, unlike the Imperatrix, she actually had to do things other than flee from danger and look pretty on camera. She couldn’t afford to be thinking like this any more than Acidalia could afford to grieve for her dead family. There was danger in the upper atmosphere and work to be done, and rationality and logic had to rise above anger and resentment, at least until the threat was gone.

She sat at the head of the table and pressed the big metal button at the center, changing the windows from translucent to opaque. The Scorpio was one of the most technologically advanced starships in the galaxy, and she could easily replace every mechanical switch with sleek holographics, but there was something visceral and satisfying about physically changing things with her fists, and exposed wires and motherboards scared her guests more than plastic and glass ever could. At the clicking sound of the button, the Cantator jumped, and Andromeda felt a wave of sympathy for her—she’d been like that once, too, in another lifetime.

Acidalia sat at her right hand side and David at her left, and that probably meant something, etiquette-wise, but Andromeda had no idea what it was. The others arranged themselves around the three seats of power awkwardly, like they’d never been in this type of situation before—save for Cressida Seren, who sat right next to her father with an air of arrogance and immediately started examining her fingernails in the universal sign of “I’m bored.” Andromeda surveyed them all from left to right: a very clean-cut looking Scientia with short ombré gray hair and understated makeup, a significantly more disheveled Scientia with a bored smirk, a frightened and clearly genetically modified Cantator, and a soldier boy with tears in his eyes. “First order of business,” she said, “who are these people?” “David Seren, Cressida Seren, Carina, Athena, Lyra, and Ace,” Acidalia said, rattling off the names like an Auctor teacher would say words on a spelling test. “David is the Secretary of Agriculture on Mars, quite obviously, and Cressida is his daughter. Athena and Carina are both astrophysicists who risked their lives to warn me about the assassination attempt staged by Cassiopeia. Lyra is a new recruit who accompanied Ace to Mars as a plan to safeguard him from Alestra, and Ace is my late brother’s best friend, who saved me at the coronation. Each one of these people deserves to be commended for their bravery—they’re risking everything they’ve ever known just by being around me.”

Andromeda looked at them again. None of them looked particularly brave, and she was about 75 percent sure that Athena had stolen good sticking out of her pockets. Cressida was already scrolling through a Martian social networking website on her metadit, clearly not paying attention to anything that was being said, and Carina was rubbing the back of her neck like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. There was a decent chance that Acidalia had simply taken a personal liking to them and exaggerated their backstories for their sakes, but Andromeda decided not to question that—after all, these six strangers were the only people on the planet who knew Acidalia was alive, and that would be supremely important later.

“Okay,” Andromeda huffed. “I’m assuming you’re all trustworthy, right?” It really didn’t matter if they weren’t—this meeting wasn’t exactly a secret. Acidalia nodded, though she did glance quickly at Athena’s overflowing pockets and shot Andromeda a look that said, leave it be.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Andromeda continued. “So, second order of business: we might be getting invaded by aliens.”

If that news surprised Acidalia at all, she didn’t show it, but everyone else around the table jumped—save for Cressida, who had transitioned from Martian social media to a cheap mobile game with lots of flashing lights and obnoxious noises. “What do you mean?” David asked.

“I mean that the interstellar mermaid gladiator people who have been orbiting our planet for decades have finally made landfall,” Andromeda said. “Look.” She pulled up a map of Appalachia City and pointed to a glowing dot that hovered somewhere around the Imperial District. “That ship isn’t Terran or Martian, and the signals I’m getting from it are showing me that it belongs to the Mira.” “How many are there?” Acidalia asked, concerned. “Just the one, but that could change. We’ve been on even footing for a while, but now that our army is fighting itself, I think they’ve found the chinks in our armor. This might be their opportunity to land.”

“Well, have they deployed any weapons?” Acidalia asked, “or done anything to indicate they want to harm us?”

“They’re Mira, of course they want to harm us.” “But they wouldn’t have sent just one ship if that were the case, would they?” Acidalia tilted her head in a pointed way, not exactly self-satisfied but close to it, and a surge of anger shot through Andromeda’s body again. She was so infuriatingly good at being eruditely snobby without making herself snobby at all, and it bothered Andromeda because she knew damn well that her level of politesse was simply not high enough to counter Acidalia’s. It didn’t matter what she thought or said or did, every conversation she could possibly have with the Imperatrix Ceasarina would wind up making her look like an imbecile and Acidalia like an eloquent space queen.

“We don’t know,” Andromeda said, gritting her teeth. “They sent us a message, but I don’t trust it.” “Play it for me,” Acidalia said.

“It’s written. Like an email.” Andromeda pulled it up anyway and handed it off to Acidalia, who read it quietly for a few minutes. It was nothing remarkable—mostly it was an extraordinarily generic statement about wanting to meet with an Eleutherian diplomat, the type of thing any sovereign would send to another leader in the hopes of forging some kind of political relationship. If it hadn’t come from an alien civilization Terra had been in a war of attrition with for the past God-knows-how-long, it wouldn’t have rung any alarm bells.

“Well,” Acidalia said, “they definitely know just what to say. This entire letter is written in Roman Latin too, did you notice that?” Andomeda hadn’t noticed that, but now that she was looking right at the words, it was obvious—the grammar was perfect. Eleutherian Latin didn’t even bother with any sort of grammar as long as the speaker could get their point across, but Roman Latin was fancy and full of itself, with complex systems of declensions and phonemes and other linguistic words she could only half-remember. Not even the Imperials spoke in Roman Latin outside of very, very formal events, none of which Andromeda was privy to, and even then it was purely ceremonial—nobody actually put effort into speaking in that archaic dialect of a dead language. And yet, the Mira had put in all that effort.

“How would they even know what ancient Romans spoke like, anyway?” Athena asked, voicing what Andromeda was thinking. “Nobody even talks to the Mira. The cultural exchange between us is like, zilch.”

“Well, it’s not quite zero,” Acidalia replied, “as we do know some things about them… namely that they’re significantly weaker than us physically, and also much more aggressive, it seems. But that’s all stereotypical and based on the experiences of a few men. They don’t like to take prisoners and they most certainly don’t like to be prisoners, so contact has been limited, to say the least. I do wonder why, out of all things, they would choose to learn an extremely antiquated form of Latin. Perhaps it’s for the sake of getting our attention?”

“If they wanted attention, why are they just sitting there quietly?” Andromeda pointed out. “I think they’re trying to lure either you or Alestra there, and then kill you. I mean, think about it: they have the perfect opportunity now. Eleutheria is tearing itself to pieces, you and your mother are both desperate to get the upper hand, and they’ve managed to breech our defenses, land in our capitol city, and bring a whole ship with them—not just a tiny fighter. If they want to occupy Terra, this is a good time. All they have to do is bring in their army and clear us out, and that starts with the leadership.” Acidalia frowned. “You may be right.”

“Aren’t I always?” David rolled his eyes. “I think you’re being a little pessimistic here. They aren’t doing anything just yet—I think they might genuinely want to talk to us. If they want Acidalia dead, why haven’t they hunted her down already?” “Because she’s in one of the most secure places on the planet? Not even the Nova have access to this base, and they’re just as Terran as we are. The Mira are aliens. How could they possibly find it?” Andromeda said. “They’re just waiting for Acidalia to come out of the woodworks.” “Doesn’t the entire planet think Acidalia’s already dead?” David asked.

Oh, right, Andromeda thought. Shit. With the Imperatrix sitting right here in front of her, she’d completely forgotten the fact that Alestra had announced the demise of her daughter to the entire planet just a few hours ago.

Acidalia sighed. “Do we know how much the Mira know? Because that could change everything. If they think I’m dead, then they wouldn’t be trying to kill me, and they’re not after Andromeda, either, because they have no idea she exists.” “Don’t know she exists?” David said incredulously. “Isn’t she like your equivalent of a general?”

“Yes, and I am a very, very, very secretive general,” Andromeda replied. “If a job is well-done, people won’t even realize that it was done in the first place. You know how many ‘accidental’ deaths were a result of me?” Her mechanical arm sprang to life, LEDs blinking like sleep-clouded eyes, and she flexed her hand to show off the metal. “I’ve got built in tasers and brass knuckles, plus a cybernetically reenforced steel skeleton. I’m about seven times stronger than the average man, and just as fast. I can beat someone to a bloody pulp and be gone before anyone saw me, and in case I need a little more subtlety than what a cyborg soldier can offer, I have the whole damn Revolution underneath me—including the spies. I can do whatever I want and nobody has to know.”

David looked nervous. “Great,” he said, sounding forced. “That’s… cool.”

“And,” Acidalia continued, “they have no reason to want anyone else dead, either. I mean, they could be targeting Alestra, but again, why wouldn’t they just kill her? We know she’s not buried in some hidden Nova base—she was giving a speech about my ‘unavoidable and tragic accidental death’ a couple of hours ago, and she was standing right on the palace balcony. Surely they could have killed her then if they wanted to really cause chaos.”

“There’s still Mars,” David said. “What about Arlen Tycho?” “Do you really think they give a shit about Mars?” Andromeda laughed. “Come on, man. It’s Mars. Not even Martians care about Mars. Besides, we all know the presidents are all doomed. Didn’t the last guy die in office after he was rude to Alestra in public?” “Last four,” Acidalia corrected. “And their vice presidents shortly thereafter. I believe President Tycho was… President pro tempore of the Senate? He was third or fourth in line; my mother murdered all of his predecessors.”

“Jesus,” Athena huffed. “I never imagined the bureaucracy could be so exciting.”

Before David could respond to that, Acidalia effortlessly inserted herself back into the conversation, interrupting so fluidly that it didn’t feel like she was interrupting at all. “Either way,” she said, “I think we’ve come to the conclusion that they don’t want to kill us. I think we should send a diplomat.” “Or we could nuke them to death and forget the whole thing,” Andromeda shrugged.

Acidalia practically gasped. “Have you gone mad? That’s what landed us in this war in the first place.”

“What?!” Andromeda snapped. “It’s an effective display of power, at the very least. It’ll show them we mean business. And, for the record, they have committed a crime—they’e trespassing on Imperial territory without permission.”

“That is absolutely 100% not a nuke-worthy crime,” David said, as if Andromeda would ever care about his opinion at all.

“I just think that sending a diplomat to this is dangerous and ridiculous,” Andromeda said. “Who knows what they want? It’s an eat-or-be-eaten world out there, literally. They kill us or we kill them.” “Not everything has to come down to that,” Acidalia replied. “But I do agree that this is a mine field. This situation that calls for civility and grace, not nuclear bombs and indiscriminate murder. So, if we do send a diplomat, I propose that I go myself.”

A chorus of questions acme from the rest of the table. “You can’t do that,” David said. “It’s too risky, and we need you.” “But it’s a power play, and it gets them on our side,” Acidalia argued. “Look at it this way. They’re currently staring at a war-torn city on a planet they’ve thought of as backwards and barbaric for the past few centuries at the very least. They don’t see a noble cause fighting against tyrannical overlords; they see two equally bad warring factions killing each other in a brutal and bloody civil war. But if we could get them to see us as friends and my mother as the enemy, two things happen: one, this war of attrition might end and they’ll stop trying to hurt Terra, and two, we gain someone on our side, backing us up. But imagine what would happen if my mother got to them first. Either she kills them all and makes them angrier than ever, and all of Eleutheria falls to pieces because divided we fall, or she gains an ally. Both are bad.” David groaned. “I hate that you’re right about this." “And,” Acidalia continued, “if I go myself, that immediately shows them that Alestra—and, by extension, the Nova—is duplicitous, manipulative, and all-around untrustworthy. What better way to showcase that than by proving that they lied about the death of an enemy leader? The Mira aren’t dumb, and I’m sure they’ve had their suspicions for a while, but this will confirm them. And, hopefully, we can make them sympathetic to us. But it’s going to take an expert politician to navigate this, which is why I propose that I go. Not to sound arrogant, but—" Andromeda started playing white noise in her ears and promptly stopped paying attention. Whatever Acidalia was about to say after that but was not worth listening to—she’d learned that much. Listening to her talk about how good at politics she was was could bore any sane human being to tears, and it was especially grating to Andromeda, who had to put up with it almost constantly. She waited until Acidalia’s sparkly red lips stopped moving, then returned to the conversation, hoping nobody had noticed her brief vacation from having to listen to the Imperatrix talk. Honestly, though, even if they had, she wouldn’t care.

“I still think this is inordinately risky,” David said. “Even if they’re benevolent towards Acidalia, and that’s a big if, what if they also just genuinely want our planet for their own? It’s not like we can do anything now when the whole Earth is divided in two.”

“We can still nuke them,” Andromeda said again. Next to her, Acidalia rolled her eyes in annoyance. “What?” Andromeda asked. “Got any better solutions?”

“Yes. Diplomacy.”

“And what if they kill you?” “The planet already thinks I’m dead. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. It matters to the Revolution.”

“You’ll get over it.” “The scientists won’t.” Acidalia sighed, looking very overburdened, and stared off into the distance—or, at least, she tried to. It would have come across as less spacey if she wasn’t looking blankly at the Scorpio’s opaque windows. “That’s true,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But they could learn.” “They won’t learn without someone to teach them,” Andromeda said, hoping she looked more enthusiastic than she felt. She had seen this type of thing before in dozens of people; one person died and suddenly everyone was borderline suicidal. Acidalia, for all her high-and-mighty queenliness, was not as immune to grief as she thought she was.

“You are right,” Acidalia said, “but they aren’t going to kill me. I’ll go, and I’ll take a guard and an entourage. It would look suspicious if I showed up alone, anyway—I want them to see me as a legitimate leader ousted from the palace, not a bastard rebel out for blood because my pure-bred little sister is getting the throne. Why doesn’t David come with me?” David sat up straight as a board, looking panicked. “What? Me?!” “You’re much physically stronger than I am,” Acidalia said, “and I can’t exactly bring anyone else, seeing as no one has any idea I’m alive. I suppose I could reveal myself now, but I’d rather stay silent and make a big show of it later—that way, if I should die before the victory comes, nobody will have known I was alive to begin with. As it stands, I’m a martyr and the Revolution is mourning me—they’ll fight harder than they ever have before, because it’s personal this time, and they’re angry. So guards are out of the question..” “But its been years since I was in the army,” David stammered. “I’m not as tough as Andromeda, and I’m not a real a politician like you.” Andromeda snorted. “You’re the minister of farming on a planet known for its farms, how is that not political?” “Secretary of agriculture,” Acidalia corrected. “But she’s right; you are a politician.” “In name only! Mars is a meritocracy built around a computer program created a thousand years ago by some religious fanatics; the only reason I ever got power to begin with was because the whole internet thought my baby daughter was cute and that drove up my social points so much that my boss named me as his successor, and then my boss got shot and here I am. It was all just luck! Besides, nobody in the Martian government does any actual work—the Algorithm runs everything, we all just stand there and look handsome.” Beads of sweat poured down from his curly hair into his unshaven stubble, and Andromeda wondered not for the first time where Acidalia was even finding these people. David Seren was like a bad one-credit-store, off-brand version of someone respectable—what help could he possibly be? And it wasn’t like anyone else here would be useful, either—both of the Scientias seemed absolutely clueless, Cressida was still playing on her phone, and Lyra and Ace looked too sad to serve any real purpose.

Fucking fantastic. We’re supposed to be meeting aliens and this is the team we have? When Andromeda was sixteen, she’d escaped from a jail cell with a crack team made up of four stim addicts and three separate men who had been arrested for public indecency, and every single person in that little cohort still managed to be more competent than any of the supposedly high-ranking, important officials standing around blankly right now. Andromeda had never felt smarter—probably because her IQ drove the mean of the people in this room up by at least ten points. She couldn’t possibly let all of these morons go off to meet the Mira alone—with her luck, they’d all manage to stumble into the path of an asteroid or fall off a cliff or meet some other hilariously unlikely and horrible fate, because the universe just didn’t seem to like them very much.

“You know what?” Andromeda said. “Fine. Fine. We’ll go talk to the Mira, and David can stay on the ship and wait and see if they want a Martian representative before he gets off. And we can bring this disphit—“ she gestured to Ace—“because one immune is better than nothing. As for the rest of you, do what you want—just be quiet about it. And I’m coming.”

“You?” Acidalia asked, alarmed. “We can’t have the both of us go; it’s far too risky. We’re putting all of our eggs in one basket, and there is no designated survivor or line of succession here. They think I’m already dead, but you—you’re one of the biggest assets we have, we can’t lose you and me both.” “Well, if I don’t go, all of you are going to get your asses kicked,” Andromeda snapped. “I mean, look at you. Acidalia, you’re an excellent shot, but you’re a twig. You got all cut up just from Ace trying to protect you—imagine what you’d look like if someone really wanted to hurt you. And these other people are, what, Scientias? Cantatores? They’re not made for fighting. The only physically strong people here are Ace and David, and even David might be pushing it a little with that dadbod. You need someone to smash those blue fuckers’ skulls in if things get dangerous.”

“I have smashed plenty of skulls in throughout the course of my life, for the record,” Acidalia said, “but if you’d like to accompany me, I have no real qualms with that. I’m just concerned that both of us will—“ “‘Both of us die? Anyone who wants me dead will have to fight me first.” Andromeda flexed her metal arm. “No offense, but carbon nantoubule bones and steel muscle are a little harder to break than weak-ass myoblast fibers covering osteoporotic calcium bones.” “I am not osteoporotic, my ancestors were just accustomed to lower gravity—“ “Doesn’t matter, the point has been made.” Andromeda leant back and put her feet up on the table, partially to establish her dominance in the room and partially to show off her fancy new 3D-printed, custom-made metal prosthetics. Noir-black titanium alloys just seemed so much more intimidating than pasty pale flesh and blood, and they were prettier than the brusied, burnt skin that used to cover her body. “I’m going with you.” Acidalia looked like she wanted to protest, but she didn’t. Instead, she swallowed her words and looked down at the holographic pinpoint representing the starship, examining it with uncomfortable closeness. “We should leave soon,” she said finally, “before they assume we aren’t coming. I’ll draft a response to their letter.” “Sounds good,” Andromeda said. “And as for the rest of you people, do what you want. Nobody here cares if you live or die, so you’re free to make your own decisions.”

Ace and the girls at the table looked at each other, semi-alarmed, as Andromeda strode away. It must be freeing, she thought, to live like that—to be a teenager with no real connections to anybody and no responsibilities. She’d never had the luxury of freedom; her entire life had just been falling from one type of slavery into another. Being a wage slave to the Revolution was better than being an actual slave to the Eleutherian government, but it still wasn’t true freedom the way she’d always envisioned it—she was still trapped here, forever working. Serving the state and serving a master were not entirely different things, especially when she still had to put up with people as dumb as David Seren and as infuriating as Acidalia Cipher. And sure, this job allowed her to use her strategic mind a little more, but what was even the point if she wasn’t allowed to play with her favorite toys? Nuclear bombs were horrific and useful, and they seemed about as appropriate a response to an alien landing as anything else.

But Acidalia said no, and that meant no.

Andromeda tried not to think about her as she stormed off down the landing ramps. Acidalia would get her dues someday, when she tried to fix some problem with friendly diplomacy but her enemies brought guns to a knife fight. Then she’d be sorry—sorry that she hadn’t listened to Andromeda, the military genius who’d won every war she’d ever fought, and sorry that she’d been so inordinately idealistic about war, where everything is fair and the victors make the only rules long after the fight has ended. Andromeda played with fire, but she did it well; Acidalia just sat there surrounded by gasoline and matches, wondering what she should do.

Whatever. There was a time for diplomatic relations and a time for mushroom clouds, and Andromeda would be getting her way soon. If there was anything her life had taught her, it was that there are some situations where violence is the only answer—and if this war continued on the trajectory it was heading towards, it would be time for mushroom clouds very soon.

#on the edge of eureka #POV Andromeda #Acidalia #Andromeda

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