#especially if she gives up her princess of light status and has to deal with darkness for the first time

[hestzhyen]

What Can Kairi Do Now?

KH Brainrot has completely taken over so let me yeet these thoughts into the uncaring abyss. In the off chance anyone reads this... I like Kairi. I related to her struggle a lot as a kid; it was reassuring to see a character resist change when so many are written to embrace it. She's not my favorite KH character but she's definitely up there. Poor girl's been not much more than a plot device for her entire series so far. Friend to be rescued in KH1, forgotten memory in CoM, side-quest rescue mission in 2, completely absent in Coded despite it being a KH1 retelling, absent in DDD, important but not proactive in 3, present but not effectual in MoM... it's tough out there for Kairi fans. Most of this, I think, is because she's not meant to be important to the narrative beyond her relationship to Sora. I've felt for a long time that Nomura just wasn't very interested in writing about her as an independent character. She's there for Sora as a friend, a love interest, and as a McGuffin. Makes sense since she's supposed to represent friends drifting apart- she's the comfort and stability that Sora so badly wants to return to for most of the series. And yet, over and over again, he's getting called away from her side. Star-crossed and separated from each other despite how badly Kairi wants him to stay with her forever. So now that Sora's gone to the Other Side of reality itself and her left behind again... where does that leave Kairi?

Well, this could be her time to shine! FOR REAL! No cap, as the kids say. I mean it.

Kairi has so far been inseparable from Sora's character. Everything she's been shown to be so far is about him- Sora don't change, Sora I'll wait for you, Sora I'll protect you. Sora, Sora, Sora. Every scene of her relates back to him in some way, except the one in BBS when she had yet to meet him... which actually still leads to Sora since that's where Aqua placed the spell on Kairi's necklace that enabled her heart to take refuge in his during KH1. It's only the precious few scenes we see of her apart from Sora that we see her growth. She decides waiting isn't good enough in KH2, then decides she's going all-in on wielding a Keyblade so she can protect him in KH3- decisions made only in his absence. So the problem is pretty clear: for Kairi to grow, she needs to be separated from Sora. And oh hey guess what, MoM went out of it's way to do exactly that when it really didn't have to.

So what could we see our sweet girl doing going forward? There are two things that come to mind for me. First, by choosing to train under Aqua, she can forge strong bonds outside of Sora and Riku. Second, she can take charge of one of the subplots dangling around. I'm under no illusion that she'll ever be as imporant as Sora is to the narrative, but it's not unreasonable for her to step up and protect their home until he comes back. Deciding to take control of her own fate at the end of MoM set a solid foundation for her to grow separately from Sora in a natural, realistic way. And this would be the best thing possible for her character.

KH3, re:mind, and MoM all point to the end of the status quo for the relationship between Kairi and Sora. Nothing stopped him from fading away, after all. She tried everything and came up short when it mattered again. So Kairi seems to finally be accepting that she can't be strong enough to stand with Sora if she's only doing things for his sake. She needs to find her own inner strength. Deciding to train on her own terms, without mentioning Sora even once, is letting us know that Kairi's primed for her own arc for realsies this time. Will it come to be? Maybe!

There's a bit more I could say about Kairi but... well, I just want to wait and see. We know so little about what to expect in KH4 that I don't want to go full-on theorizing mode into this empty chasm. Especially since every time Kairi's been set up for growth it just hasn't happened. There's a big enough difference between this situation and all the previous ones that lets me have some room for hope at least. Thanks for listening to this ramble, internet void.

[mcgrillzdumpinc]

I'll likely make a more in depth post once I've read through all the translated light novels but

Hello Apothecary Diaries fans I am in volume 8 and would like to reassure you about the choking scene from volume 5

Spoilers under the cut!

Okay so there's a scene at the end of volume 5 (the manga is not there yet) that many have interpreted as sexual assault. For the sake of those sensitive to such topics, I'm going to give a light on spoilers version of the scene and then an in depth analysis. Personally, I do not view the scene as sexual assault, but it is very forceful and carries A LOT of very sad subtext. You'll understand what I'm getting at in the more depth part.

So, the general gist of the choking scene.

MaoMao and Jinshi are in the garden to escape a banquet. They talk for a bit about a very scary incident that occurred that day (thankfully nobody was killed) and share casual conversation. Then Jinshi brings up that they're at this banquet to find him a wife. I won't spoil the specifics, but fyi MaoMao has been wearing an accessory this whole time that loudly announces (to everyone except herself, of course) that She's The Favorite™. Despite how obvious Jinshi has been with his intentions, including holding her hand and combing his other fingers through her hair while mentioning the whole wife thing, MaoMao evades him while thinking "I'm not capable of love". So, she tries to dodge him by offering up another woman. This is what causes Jinshi to snap and choke her, as well as hold one of her arms behind her back to stop her from fighting back.

He doesn't kill her. As far as damage to her throat, the text doesn't indicate any. He then leans his weight on her. MaoMao then remembers how she was taught sex techniques against her will be the Verdigris House women & decides to use those techniques against Jinshi. She then promptly leaves and Jinshi feels like the most pathetic man in world.

The two don't interact beyond official matters until towards the end of volume 6. Jinshi brings more rare medicine in lieu of an apology. The two talk around the wife situation again and MaoMao gets tickled. It isn't until volume 7 that they have an actual conversation breakthrough.

That's my light on spoilers version of the events. Now I'll give a more in depth version, that's honestly a good chunk of my own meta-analysis around the events of volume 5.

Honestly, volume 5 is full of really interesting scenes regarding Jinshi and MaoMao. This is the first volume after Jinshi has been forced back into Imperial Brother status, yet the first thing I noticed that actually changed between JinMao is how MaoMao takes initiative with him now. As soon as she learns an insect plague might be on the horizon, she dives into unprompted research and delivers her findings to Jinshi. She's no longer working at the palace or for Jinshi, but she still takes on the extra burden. She also takes initiative to get Jinshi some extra sleep (though she misinterprets his desire to not sleep alone). And later in the novel, when they're in the paper makers' village, MaoMao acts so cute when reapplying Jinshi's burn scar makeup. I'll let screenshots talk for me.

Like man. She's so cute. And I wonder, if these two didn't have to deal with social standing and imperial drama, would we get way more of them just being cute and companionable? If MaoMao wasn't an unwitting member of the Who Wants To Be An Imperial Princess race, would her feelings for Jinshi have grown without so much pushing and urgency on his end?

But I digress. I think a lot of volume 5, especially once they reach their travel destination, is MaoMao trying her best to keep her blinders on even though she is in the thick of imperial drama. She's especially desperate with regards to the blazingly obvious fact that a certain someone of very high status is in love with her. I think the end of chapter 6 does a very good job of driving home one of the major reasons why MaoMao is reluctant to trust Jinshi's feelings.

To add fuel onto this unfortunate fire is that MaoMao, as an unmarried courtesan's daughter, was attacked as an infant by her mother, sought after by fucking Lakan of all people, ignored while crying as a baby, and forcibly taught sex (to the point of tears!). She also had to cover for Luomen's own eccentricities, specifically ensuring they had enough money to feed themselves. MaoMao, to put it shortly, has been taught not to believe she can attain anything beyond her very simple life of being a lowly apothecary.

And then here's Jinshi who, as a prince, has been forced to grow up fast & have all his favorite things taken away from him. I think MaoMao is the first time he ever wanted a person. He is, for lack of a better word, obsessed with her. I think a lot of his pushiness & tendency to be clingy with her is him desperately trying to make sure he doesn't lose her. If he makes her his wife, then, well, she can't leave.

And I think the choking scene is him finally at his breaking point. At this point, he has lavished her with gifts, been very forward sexually with her twice, and given her a new hairpin that is essentially this story's version of a promise ring. It's MaoMao's repression/reluctance vs. Jinshi's desperation and so far she's winning.

But then she pushes him past his breaking point and he takes physical action against her. MaoMao responds by performing an unspecified sexual act on him.

So why don't I personally take this scene as sexual assault?

Mainly because I think the people actually guilty of sexual assault her are the Verdigris House women who forced MaoMao to learn sex.

As far as I understand it, whether MaoMao can actually say no to Jinshi is left up to interpretation. If we're talking on social status terms, she can't say no. But if you look at Jinshi's overall treatment of her, both before and after this scene, I very much think MaoMao can say no and instead chooses to defuse the situation.

Because what isn't for interpretation, however, is MaoMao's abysmal impression of what love and sex can actually be for her. So she defuses a situation by using sex, something she herself doesn't like, and doesn't allow Jinshi to reciprocate, which leaves him feeling terrible, too.

I want to be clear. I do think Jinshi is in the wrong for physically attacking MaoMao. But the sexual portion of the scene, at least to me, falls squarely on the shoulders of MaoMao's fucked up backstory.

Anyway, I think I've typed for long enough. I am using the official translations of the light novel for this analysis, so if any fans have access to alternate translations or WN only knowledge that throw my analysis in the trash bin, please let me know (fyi puedo leer el español).

[justinewt]

Meet Aldea Corsi - THOSE ABOUT TO DIE REWRITE OC

[THOSE ABOUT TO DIE-MASTERLIST]

Do not use my character without my consent thanks <3

warning: any arts and pictures you’ll see are not mine (I found them on pinterest or used AI) and I also chose Spanish actress Inma Cuesta to portray my oc, Aldea is a character 100% created by me, Justine but the style of the bio has been inspired by bios made by director Guillermo Del Toro <3

words: 2.2k

ALDEA CORSI bio by me <3

INFORMATIONS

NICKNAME: the Spaniard princess (by Scorpus)

DATE OF BIRTH: sometime in 56 AD

AGE: around 24yo (AD 79); 20yo (AD 75 - when she first got to Rome)

SEX : Female

ORIGINS: Spanish (Baetica // Andalusia)

OCCUPATION: farmer (formerly); slave (formerly)

STATUS: low-born // plebeian

HOBBY: anything to do with horses (from riding to tending to them), caring for her little brother

FAMILY

PARENTS: Her parents are unnamed, but her father is alive, while her mother died in childbirth. The siblings also lived with their grandfather but she doesn't know if he's alive or dead at this point.

SIBLINGS: She had three brothers, the youngest, Elia, aged 20, Fonsoa, her fraternal twin, aged 25 1/2, and Andria, the eldest of the four children, aged around 28. (ages as of summer 79 CE)

LOVER: Unnamed Andalusian boy from her village (71-72 CE // same age as her so 16-17); Roman sailor, Aelius (74- july 75 CE // aged 21-22); Tenax (january 76 CE-??) // also, not related to their relationship but I headcanon him as being in his mid 30s in 79 CE, he says Felix is him "20 years ago" aka in 59 CE after he escaped the fire and reached Rome when he was his age, and Felix is around 11 or 12 (age range 32 to 34) so he was around 28-30 in 75 CE)

(Aldea, aged 17-20 on the picture, just ignore the bangs alr XD)

EALRY LIFE: Aldea was born sometime in AD 56 in the south of the Baetica region, after two brothers, Andria, the eldest, born three years earlier, in AD 51, Fonsoa, born just a year and a half before her, in AD 54, and their younger brother, Elia, born in AD 59. Unfortunately, their mother died giving birth to her youngest son. Only Andria was old enough to remember her well and after she died, he had even more responsibilities that fell upon him. He had to help his father around the farm and care for his younger siblings, but he never complained. But as he was always off with the horses, it fell to Fonsoa and Aldea to take care of their younger sibling. He was especially spoiled by Aldea, who became his sole mother figure. They lived a modest life, with these 5 mouths to feed, along with their grandfather, but they made do with what they had, living in the middle of the hills, and were quite self-sustaining with their crops and horses, sometimes riding to the nearest town to sell some things at the market, and buy others.

As a young child, Aldea wanted to do everything like her brothers. The siblings were an inseperable group. One couldn't go anywhere without the others following suit. Her father, having lost the only other woman in the house, had no idea how to deal with a girl so for most of her life, he didn't really treat her any different than his sons and though he wasn't especially desmonstrative in his affection, he loved her and his sons a great deal. She grew up around horses and came to know everything there was to know about those beasts. Her father saw his wife in her and was very protective of her, always repeating to the boys to protect her whenever they were going to town. She, overall, had a modest but good and happy childhood. She was very lucky in that sense.

At the age of 14, in AD 69, she bled for the first time and was terrified. She thought there was something wrong with her as she had no idea this was something that happened to all women. Luckily, she didn't bleed through her tunic and her period was rather light and she realized it only lasted a few days. She would use a wrapped cloth and figured out a way to make it stay in place and would attempt to wash it at night. She hid from her father and brothers for half a year but eventually he found one of the bloody cloth and confronted her about it, thinking she had gotten hurt or something like that. He was as clueless as her when she told him she began to bleed every month but she assured she could deal with it on her own and he trusted her. He had no other choice anyway. People in the village also began telling him to marry her off, saying she was grown enough but he wouldn't do it.

From the age of 16 to 17, AD 71 to 72, she had a teenage romance with a boy from the village and his father began to wonder whether to marry them or not but one day, the teenage boy fell from his horse and got trampled, dying less than an hour later. Then, two years later, in AD 74, as they were doing business in town as usual, she ventured around the port and saw a great ship moored there, with over two dozens sailors busying themselves around the docks. She asked about it and was told that it was the ship of a Roman merchant. It got her thinking of Rome for the first time. She had never given it a second thought before. She crossed the gaze of a young sailor, probably just a couple years older than her and he came to talk to her before she left. She returned to see him a couple times that week but then one day the ship was gone. She was told he had gone back to Rome. So she waited, hoping they would return and they did, a little less than a year later, and there he was. They saw each other again during another one of her trips to town, in AD 75, with her brothers, and then one night, she took a horse and ran off to see him. He was there, standing on the docks, waiting for her. He sneaked her on the ship's deck and they watched the stars, eventually sharing a kiss and sleeping together.

Eventually they actually fell asleep, cuddling in a corner. They woke up abruptly, a bucket of water thrown at them, as they still slept in the shadow of piled up crates and sacks but they had been caught together by other sailors and the merchant. They were upset to see this unknown woman on their ship, which was already moving, going back to Rome. All she could think about was her family, who would be looking for her everywhere. She begged the merchant not to throw her off board, and after she asked if he could take her back and he refused, she affirmed she could be of use until they reached Rome. She didn't have in mind the same use as he did, she thought she could help fixing things around the ship etc. The merchant, towering the 20-year-old girl, asked what she would even do when they reached Rome and why he should agree to give her a free ride just because she happened to be there. She said she would do anything to be useful until then and she didn’t understand what king of devilish contract she signed when he agreed to let her stay. He later asked if she was intact, and she didn’t understand at first but he rephrased it and she understood and lied, telling him that she had never shared a bed with a man. He asked about the sailor, and she lied again, and said they only watched the stars. It seemed she was good at manipulating the truth as he always seemed to believe her, or maybe she wasn't and he just didn't care that much.

He told her she would sleep in his cabin and she was almost relieved because she didn’t want to stay with the dozens of sailors under deck. All those foreign men intimidated her. But that night, and almost every single one of the 8 nights until they reached Rome, he forced himself on her. She tried to fight him at first but after he hit her so hard he broke her clavicle, she was rendered helpless and in utter pain. The trip lasted about 9 or 10 days. She could barely move her arm and her shoulder looked out of place and drooping, as if she was dragging along a ballchain, but she was never given anything for the pain and had to endure. She cried and thought only of her family. When they arrived to Rome, the merchant, who had no further use for her, sent one of his men to sell her at the market. She could only hide her pain so much, and gritted her teeth to keep her composure. She had this defiance and anger in her gaze as she glared at the crowd, and even tried to get out of the seller’s grip but he unknowingly grabbed her bad shoulder and she pressed her lips, closing her eyes shut for a second, letting out a low groan of pain as she was forced to stay still. Some bidders were uninterested in her because of the fact that she wasn’t intact, as well sexually as physically but to her luck, a man who owned one of the betting taverns in the city, happened to walk across the street, stopped by for a second and crossed her gaze as she glared at him but he got intrigued, seeing an anger-fuelled strength in her eyes and bought her to get her off that stage. He had more compassion and sympathy for her that he cared to admit.

(AI depiction of the kind of clothes she might wear during the story)

PERSONALITY: Aldea was always a good-natured girl, ever since she was a child, she had always been sweet and well-behaved. Her brother, Fonsoa, wasn't even 2 years older so they were extremely close in age, while Andria was already 4 or 5 when she was born (the three children were mostly taken care of by their mother while their father and grandpa worked with the horses). By the time he was 6, Andria began working with the horses as well and Fonsoa helped his mother take care of his little sister. She was, obviously, very relient on Fonsoa in the early years of her life and they shared a very close-knitted bond. She followed him everywhere for the next 4 years, until Elia came around, their mother died and their 8-year-old brother, always away with the horses, left them to care for the newborn. She was a "natural", incredibly maternal with Elia, probably subconsciously copying her mother as she took that role in Elia's life, creating an kind of "mother-son" bond with him.

This serious role she took upon herself at such an early age and for the rest of her life definitely shaped her into the woman she later became. An empathetic and caring young woman, who contented herself with what life gave her and she was happy. She's also somewhat of a "woman of her time", meaning she took in all the codes of conduct of the women she encountered, 90% of those mannerisms coming from her mother, meaning even if she doesn't like it, she "stays in her place" in certain situtations where she is ought not to speak her mind, unless in private settings. If she feels as though she is supposed to stay silent, she will. She's also incredible patient and resilient, the latter of which was exacerbated after she was basically traffiked to Rome and sexually/physically abused. She was already this way and it didn't make her any stronger but it forced her to "push through it" in order to survive, which goes on to show she's the embodiment of resilience.

When it comes to her relationship with Tenax, all her personality traits shine through her behaviors and how she interacts with him. She stays on her guards at first but she's observant and quickly realizes she can trust him, so it doesn't take much time for her to let herself rely on him in her everyday life. She sees through him and his façade and especially so when she meets the orphan that he took under his wing. She has taken care of a child since she herself was one - she knows that if those children look up to him so much, there's a reason and she then sees the way he cares for them. Again, she's quiet but observant and speaks her mind when they're alone. In more serious situations, she can tell when it is not her place to speak, because she shouldn't undermine Tenax's credibility in front of others by cutting him off or questioning him (especially as a woman in a machist/patriarchal society that is ancient Rome). She's also extremely patient, even more so when she knows and trusts the person with whom she is being patient. If there's something she doesn't understand right away and she's not in a place where she feels she can just straight up ask Tenax, she'll watch and wait for him to give her the answers to her questions, without her asking anything and then they'll talk about it in private.

APPEARANCE: i'm too lazy to write a paragraph lol just look at the pics (only comment i'll make is she's the spitting image of her mother)

For most of the story, except flashbacks, she wears a light beige stola and tunic held together by a brown leather belt and regular sandals, and a toga or cloak around her shoulder held with a brooch, but she also wears a specific necklace (see description in one of the prologue chapters). At some point, later in the series, she begins to wear all black atire.

The pictures below show Tenax and Aldea's son, Amatus Corsi (idk Tenax's last name so I just put Aldea's) - He is portrayed by spanish model Daniel Illescas, but here on the pics he's like in his 20s or something, it's just to show what he will look like, having his mother's wavy dark brown hair, olive skin color and his father's clear eyes, his eye shape also kinda reminds that of his late uncle Fonsoa and his face shape/bone structure is similar to both but his jaw is even more like Tenax's. When he's done growing and is an adult, he will be around 177 cm, taller than both his parents (and he will remain the tallest of all the children they might have after him, despite being the only one born preterm)

[THOSE ABOUT TO DIE-MASTERLIST]

Published (07/27/2024) by Andrea

[baggebythesea]

Sorry, I put in a completely different set of headcanons I have without explaining.

This is about a very specific reading of Glimmer I have, that may or may not be shared by others and may or may not find support in canon. Let me just start with the disclaimer that this is not about some sort of 'objective' morality or what the reader is supposed to think. This is what I personally take from the end of s4 (and - which I might add - was the characterisation point of Glimmer that first made me fall in love with her).

The text of the end of s4 is

Glimmer and Adora and Bow have a fallout, partly 'thanks' to Double Trouble and Shadow Weaver, mostly because of stress, but partly also because of different opinions about how to deal with the war. Will they go to Beast Island to look for Entrapta, or will they ask Light Hope to help with the Heart of Etheria

The both groups decide to go with their own solution, independently of the other.

When Glimmer learns from Light Hope that connecting Scorpia to the Black Garnet will unlock the heart, she hatches a plan together with Double Trouble and the other princesses to lure the armies of the Horde away from the Fright Zone, so Glimmer and Scorpia can sneak in and connect Scorpia.

In order to convince Scorpia to connect to the Black Garnet, Glimmer holds up their shared status as princesses. She opens up to Scorpia about her own insecurities and she is in general friendly and uplifting.

The result of the heart unlocking is almost the end of the world. Glimmer realises her mistake a moment too late and is reduced to inefficiently attack the black garnet to undo what she just did. It takes Adora sacrificing She-Ra to stop Light Hope, and by then Horde Prime is upon them.

On a more abstract level, I read those events as

Part of the fallout between Adora + Bow and Glimmer is on an ideological level, where Adora and Bow wants to do what's right where Glimmer wants to do what has the highest chance of success.

The show frames Glimmer's actions and motivation as morally dubious and downright sinister, especially during the Beast Island episode when Bow and Adora worries about what Glimmer might be doing, and we cut to Glimmer approaching Light Hope. Note that part of this is due to Bow and Adora (and the viewer) having information that Glimmer doesn't, about the consequences of opening the heart.

During their short interaction, Glimmer convinces Scorpia to do far more to help the rebellion that she originally intended. Scorpia didn't really see herself as a traitor when she left Fright Zone. She simply wants to help Entrapta, and went to the people most likely to be able to help her with that. She never intended to hook up with the Black Garnet, never intended to give the princesses access to a super weapon and never even wanted to help them in the war. Glimmer convinces her to do all that. In the end, Scorpia pleads with Glimmer not to hurt Catra and only get an half-promise not to do so. ("we are the good guys, remember?")

Scorpia gets everything that Glimmer promised her. She connects to the runestone that belonged to her mothers, something no one in the Fright Zone - not even Entrapta - thought she was capable of. She gets power, recognition and a place among the princesses as an equal (note that her first action after she gains power is to go to Perfuma and Frosta). Glimmer was completely sincere when she offered Scorpia friendship and camaraderie, despite what people in the Fright Zone had told Scorpia her entire life.

Now, fandom debate sometimes comes down to a very simplistic right/wrong framework. For me, it's much more interesting to explore why characters do what they do and how their actions compare to their own moral framework.

In the end of S4, Glimmer is no longer the 'weak princess'. She had exceeded anyone's expectations (most of all her own) and through cunning, strength and ruthlessness utterly defeated the Horde. She. Won. (and she offers Scorpia the same thing. Scorpia thought there was never a place among the princesses for her. Glimmer proves her wrong).

But in order to do so, Glimmer has to compromise her own morals. She is totally onboard with Bow's philosophy that the power of friendship IS the right way to do things. That's how they recruited Adora (after some initial misgivings on Glimmer's part). That's how they restarted the princess alliance and defended Bright Moon, and that's why Entrapta's 'death' and betrayal was such a hard blow for Glimmer. So befriending and lifting up Scorpia is totally the right thing to do for Glimmer (one might even argue that giving Shadow Weaver and Double Trouble a modicum of trust and freedom is the right thing), but forbidding Bow and Adora to save Entrapta absolutely isn't. And when they sneak away to do so anyway, going to Light Hope is the wrong thing to do, and Glimmer knows it (again - this is not about if she should have done it or not, or if it's right from an 'objective' framework. SHE thinks it wrong, but she does it anyway).

We have seen Glimmer yearn for power throughout the show. That little whispered 'for the honour of grayskull' after they find the sword is such an important characterization point for her. We have also consistently seen her chose friendship over power in a way that Shadow Weaver never does. When Glimmer realises she can't be She-Ra she befriends Adora instead (compare and contrast Shadow Weaver trying to mind control Adora, and Catra using the infected disk to 'control' She-Ra). When Glimmer's mother dies she is devestated and refuses to make use of the moonstone until she has had time to grieve, despite all that power finally being within her reach (compare and contrast Shadow Weaver consuming the entire senior faculty of Mystacor without a second thought). Glimmer choosing to open the heart of etheria over Adora's and Bow's objection is her giving in to her darker side in a way she up to that point has not. Sure, she has all sort of strategic reasons to open the heart, but it's also about fulfilling a deep personal need. She WANTS to have all that power, and in the end she hooks up with Double Trouble and Light Hope to get it. She knows it's selfish, but she does it anyway (and it costs her dearly).

Glimmer does the subjectively wrong thing for partly selfish reasons and she uses the power of friendship to do it. Despite her inner turmoil she is gentle and kind and nice with Scorpia. Her entire plan hinges on Scorpia connecting to the black garnet, but Glimmer doesn't order or threaten. She befriends her. She listens. She opens up. She promises Scorpia everything she wants - everything she ACTUALLY wants, not what she in her hubris thinks Scorpia wants - and she fully intends to fulfill her side of the bargain. She will give Scorpia a place among the princesses. Her own runestone back. Power. Recognition. Friendship. Hugs. A chance to be with a cute flower princesses. And all she wants in return is for Scorpia to betray her entire old life, give Glimmer what she needs to win the war against Scorpia's old friends and to give Glimmer access to power no one has wielded since the days of the first ones.

Shadow Weaver's ploys seem downright pathetic in comparison.

So, yes. The negative connotation is totally intentional when I describe Glimmer as a manipulator. She just happen to be much better at it than Shadow Weaver.

And that's part of why I love Glimmer so much. She is a fundamentally good person who works really hard to do the right thing. But she has a dark streak, and working against it takes effort. Sometimes, when she's backed into the corner, it rears it ugly head and she chooses the pragmatic solution rather than what is right.

Incidentally, that's why I love her and Catra bonding at Horde Prime's ship so much. At her lowest point, stewing in guilt and the consequences of her hubris, Glimmer picks up the pieces and starts over again, doing what's right, choosing friendship and slowly gaining the trust of her worst enemy, which eventually saves both Catra and herself, which leads to Catra being able to give Adora the motivation she needs to take out Horde Prime for good in the end.

The power of ruthless manipulation might win the battle, but the power of friendship wins the war. Bow is very smug, I'm sure.

since we don't know much about scorpia's history and she was introduced to catra for the first time once they were both late teens already, i have to wonder based on the implications there why scorpia wasn't part of shadow weaver's segment of the fright zone? or at least, how does that system work and who's running the others, such as the one scorpia was probably a part of? and why were they kept apart if they didn't know each other existed before (aside from the fact scorpia had already been a force captain while catra just became one, but it still seems like they should have interacted sometimes)? this also goes for adora too, especially if she would have stayed and filled her new promotional role. additionally, scorpia was present in the portal’s alternate reality with catra and adora, so i’m not sure if that says anything…?

i just don't buy the idea that the kids we saw grow up together were only confined to each other for so many years. it could've helped catra to know there was another humanoid hybrid just like her earlier in life (i don't count rogelio because he's not really human enough at all and doesn't seem to speak or communicate effectively with words).

i mean, it would make sense for such a powerful sorceress who seized control of the black garnet to have a watchful eye over the princess whom that runestone belongs to. plus scorpia knew she was a princess and that it used to belong to her (although she didn't know forging a connection would give her magical powers and/or set off the heart of etheria), so it's not liking hiding anything from her was necessary, and the way she talked about her family lineage so openly made it seem like it wasn't very secretive or shameful in the horde.

i dunno, just some random thoughts while being reminded of the s4 finale events. if anyone has any interpretations and/or explanations to add, that would be awesome!

[agent-cupcake]

As a resident Claudefucker, I know am curious to know what our fave charming schemer is doing during this Mafia!AU. He'd look lovely in a suit.

~It was quite the headline when Godfrey Riegan died. The details are a little hazy, a little convenient, but people don't talk about that sort of thing. Car accidents are common. Tragic, but not unreasonable. There’s no reason to smear a man’s perfectly respectable political career for the sake of some sensational gossip.

~In the right circles, however, there was a huge uproar, questions about who was going to take over the Riegan family when the elderly boss Oswald died. The Riegan’s had been dominating Leicester for quite some time, but a lot of people began to predict that the Gloucester family was going to move in. They had powerful friends, it seemed. Friends with money, no less.

~Claude Riegan, grandson of Oswald, appeared out of nowhere just when he was needed. Stories of the lost daughter Tiana still circulated, sure, but there were still a lot of questions about Claude’s origins when nobody except Oswald were able to vouch for him. He obviously had military leadership experience—his skill with guns and ability to lead was just too excellent for any other explanation—but he dismissed the question out of hand. There’s no documentation of him, either, leading some to wonder if even his name was false. But Oswald said he was family, and that was that.

~Claude was quick to establish himself, in any case. Despite his cavalier attitude, his efficacy in overhauling the power dynamics of Leicester were profound.  

~He decided, first and foremost, that the way to win the people over was to invigorate the local culture, which had seen a sharp decline as a result of new laws that were unfavorable to business, Adrestia’s growing market monopolies, and the bad reputation of the red light district Ailell. This included some perfectly legitimate campaigning and some under the table type schemes. 

~The result was a flourishing Derdriu Street. While it lacks the prestige of Enbarr Square in Adrestia, it welcomes entertainment that would be considered too “low brow” like comedy, trendy new restaurants, and music venues. Even better, all of it is built on the recently cleaned up river. The Riegan family is involved in all of  it, of course. 

~Casino owner Claude. This exists solely to thirst but maybe it was preexisting and he took it over due to its poor management? If there’s going to be gambling anyway, it should be done right. The extra money’s not so bad, either. But, Claude lounging in a big leather chair in a dark blue blazer with gold brocade, his white shirt unbuttoned low enough to see enough his chest. Enough to make you drool. Enough that you’d definitely get caught staring and probably called out for it because he can’t help himself. Claude with his elbows on the arm rests and fingers folded in front of him as he considers you, gold rings winking because he’s just that ostentatious and appearances are important. Claude asking you how you feel about taking risks in a way that really feels like it has nothing to do with cards, staring at you with a friendly smile that doesn’t meet those calculating eyes—eyes that you know will pick up on every tell. 

~Claude also struck a deal with the Kupala Distillery. They’d been fighting to keep hold of their historic business for years, and Claude offered to help them with that. You know, not for free, but he’s good at making deals that leave everybody happy. 

~The second biggest thing he tackled was the drug trade. For the most part, no one family had ever had a complete handle on that market. The Goneril’s had a hold over the docks for years, but the Edmunds had been moving in and working with the Gloucester family to bolster their power. Distribution was scattered and hard to keep track of as it ultimately circulated wherever there was a profit to be made. Looking at it like this, Claude decided that the only way to fix things was to take control over all of it. In his line of work, shady things like the drug trade are impossible to avoid. At the very least, if he has control over it, he can ensure the product is clean and expel far more unsavory ventures.

~Through these escapades, Claude was able to make alliances with all of the major families. A lot of them had only remained loyal to the Gloucester family out of fear so as soon as they had an alternative, they bolted. This has an unfortunate side effect of revealing how his power is perceived. Every day is a balancing act for Claude. He allows each family to function as they please as long as they’re aware they do so at his mercy. It’s better to keep friends than to control enemies, but even that requires a delicate maneuvering of power.

~However, Claude likes the conflict. He enjoys the game and he especially enjoys winning the game. There’s a certain level of his excusing amorality for the sake of his family and Leicester, but there’s an equal part of him that understands his wrongdoings and deals with it separately. He wouldn’t hold to the naïve “ends justify the means” idea to excuse himself, but he would still argue that his actions have value and are even necessary. If it weren’t him, it would be somebody a lot worse than him. That’s probably something that would linger in the back of everybody’s minds whenever they shook his hand or paid their respects, whenever they began to think of how easy it would be to take him out. Fear, too. So far, Claude’s never done anything shockingly bad, only what was necessary. But with his power and intellect, it’s always a question of what he could do.

~If someone asked him that, Claude would smile that friendly smile and tell them that he would do anything to see his vision made real. Whether or not that’s true remains to be seen. 

~Luckily, Claude’s not alone! Hilda is the stereotypical crime family princess. She joined Claude because he offered her freedom from the overbearing control of her father and brother. Her skill in manipulating everybody around her combined with her reputation as a ditzy rich girl makes her fantastic at gathering information, assuming Claude can get her to do so. But, as long as he’s not being too forceful, she’s surprisingly motivated to weave her way through social circles and charm everyone. Although she would never say it, the order he brought to Leicester, not to mention the entertainment, made everything a lot better for her and her family. Plus, she likes being useful after spending her entire life watching Holst give his heart and soul to family while she did nothing. Ultimately, the information she provides is essential and her relationship with Claude is one of the few either have that’s built on trust, respect, and loyalty. That said, sometimes even Claude gets a little shiver as he watches how easily Hilda can manipulate people.  

~Lorenz was one of Claude’s most disdainful detractors, although a part of that was jealousy. Claude just swept in and did things that Lorenz had been waiting and planning to do once he became the head of the Gloucester family. Even after being on the receiving ends of such vicious attacks, once Claude undeniably had the upper hand in Leicester, he went behind the Gloucester boss’s back to Lorenz and told him that they were going to be friends or enemies, it was Lorenz’s choice. Not threatening him, just pointing out that the fall of the Gloucester family was inevitable under his father’s leadership and that Lorenz didn’t have to suffer for his father’s sins. Probably over mimosas and brunch. Lorenz is proud and has no appreciation for Claude, but he’s not stupid. After they worked out their disagreements and more or less accepted each other, Lorenz and Claude became pretty close. Claude knows that having someone to openly and aggressively disagree with him isn’t a bad thing. Not only that, but Lorenz’s a solid ally with a better grasp on some of the things Claude has difficulty with due to not being a native. Lorenz is willing to admit that Claude is a good leader.

~Marianne is well educated in the realm of the law and political action. The reason the Edmund family saw such success despite their lesser status was because of her adopted father’s genius. which he made sure to share with Marianne. She is invaluable in aiding Claude on the perfectly legitimate side of his business, and helping him hide his tracks for the shady stuff. Raphael is the muscle. Lysithea is a computer genius. Being a sickly shut in with issues that only recently saw treatment, she’s on the Mr. Robot level of hacker mode activated. Ignatz is an architect which is useful since so much of Claude’s power is in the property and infrastructure. He also designed a lot of places to have some neat-o hidey holes. Claude loves buildings that have secrets. Leonie is manages a lot of the physical and pettier side of the work. If someone’s stirring up trouble, she’s likely to pay them a visit as a warning before Claude has to get involved. She used to be a mercenary but being on Claude’s payroll is a lot better of a gig.    

~As for the suits, one thing is very important. Claude would not, under any circumstances, wear something tight on his thighs. I actually kind of like the idea of him going for a 1980′s style modernized. In his post timeskip outfit, he’s already got a hint of that going on with how oversized his outfit looks. The 80′s (rightfully) gets a bad rep for fashion, but it’s also very iconic with those wide-collared suit jackets, matchy-matchy three piece suits, sportscoats with a fun patterned shirt underneath, open blazers, pleated pants with an oversized jacket, and—in particular—the trend of summer suits in shades of tan and cream with colored shirts underneath. Then, combine that with a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators and a topless convertible and you’ve got a distinctly recognizable mob boss who doubles as a devastating heartthrob. I’m not saying he’d do a 1:1 recreation, but you’d definitely see references to the fashion of the era in his outfits. He would wear oxfords or ankle boots. Whatever it was, they’d have to be comfortable. He also doesn’t shy away from jewelry. The earring, of course, and rings when he's feeling particularly decadent. When he’s wearing his shirts unbuttoned Claude could possibly wear a gold chain. I mean, what are you gonna say, no? That gold doesn’t look gorgeous against his skin? That it’s tacky? You’re talking to the man who wore quilted pants. Claude’s not afraid to stand out because he knows he will anyway, nor is he afraid to be seen as unfashionable because he doesn’t particularly care about trends. I also enjoy the idea of him emulating the 80′s as someone who didn’t grow up in a western culture and thus mainly saw things through the lens of movies. Whatever he wears, however, he would look very handsome.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal (6)

Here is a new chapter for you guys. I am terrible at writing feelings and this is my best shot.😅 Tell me what you think.

[Masterlist]

(PART 1)(PART 5)

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(Words in bold is French)

“Tch, Drake is going to be busy trying to find Hawkmoth. He can’t go around Paris, being Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. Besides, he can’t be a proper boyfriend even in his most lucid moments. I will be her boyfriend instead.”

Tim was glad he didn’t take a sip of his coffee when Damian volunteered to be Marinette’s boyfriend. But he still choked on air. Jason with his limited knowledge of french was confused. Damian didn’t do what he heard, right?

“No, you can’t. Chloe already told them about Tim. If I come in with a different boyfriend, they would get suspicious. We can work on Hawkmoth while we go on those dates. Besides, I thought you don’t like me. That’s not going to sell the image of a loving couple.” Marinette pointed out. (She also doesn’t want to do this fake-date thing. Not because she likes Damian and she had always been a goner for green eyes and totally would be date him if it weren’t for some stupid curse dictating her feelings for him and fake-dating him might get her catch feelings for him and she would get her heart broken when this is all over and she would stay single forever and be a lonely old lady with hamsters and cats for company.)

“Actually, Mari-bug, I only told the class how romantic your boyfriend is. I never told them what he looked like. Just in case, Timothy couldn’t make it. I have back-up favors to cash in.” Chloe explained.

Marinette didn’t even know why she was surprised at that, this was Chloe after all.

“You have more than one American boy around our age in your debt who you intend to be my boyfriend? Sounds like you, Queenie. So that also means that Damian doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.”

“My offer still stands. I will be your ‘boyfriend’ before I have to go back. I will be more understanding than those other American boys when you have to rush out for an attack. That is to assume that they can come here or agree. In our initial meeting, I didn’t like that weak girl act you put up. Recent events have made me realize that you are a much stronger person. (Careful Damian, that sounds like a compliment.) You are a decent partner to date.(Shit. Shit. Shit. That wasn’t a compliment, right?)”

Damian couldn’t see why Dupain-Cheng would refuse such a good deal. He supposed her feelings might be still hurt from his first impression of her. He would give her an apology when they are alone and away from his brothers who would make a big deal of it.

“Fine. At least, the curse will at least make this fake couple thing more believable.” grumbled Marinette. The light pink blush on her face is not because he said she was someone he would date.

Oh right, the curse. He swore internally, it had possessed him to be Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. He now would have to endure the hand-holding, kissing and staring into each other’s eyes, and try to resist the curse which will be much harder now. Somehow, he didn’t regret it a little bit. It sounds more bearable with him doing those things with her than her with Drake. This was just a mutual agreement to ward off her suitors and prove to her classmates that she was off the market.

Chloe clapped her hands,“If we have everything sorted out, you can start being a good boyfriend by walking Marinette to school today. We want to be on time now.”

The others started packing up their stuff or finished what they were eating. Marinette was dragged out of the bakery by an impatient Damian. Chloe and Alix picked up what Marinette left behind and followed out. The rest soon left right after, leaving the two boys in the bakery.

“Hey, Replacement, tell me if I am wrong but did Demon Spawn willingly ask a girl out?” Jason asked, stealing a croissant from Tim.

“Try making himself the perfect candidate to be her fake boyfriend out of many choices, including me, and get her to agree to it. Now he has to go on a few romantic dates with Marinette in order to ward off this really pushy guy in her class. Demon Spawn also has a crush on her and he’s in denial of it. We are not hallucinating either. I’ve checked.” Tim replied, sipping his coffee.

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“Damian. Let go. Hey, Wayne, are you listening to me? Let me go. This is not how you treat your significant other. And you are not even going in the right direction.” Marinette all but yelled at him.

He released his grip on her. “My apologies for manhandling you but I wanted to tell you this away from everybody else.”

“What?” She asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

I- This is a little difficult to say for me,” Damian started. (Why were his palms sweaty? It’s just an apology. He had done it before although it was mostly because Grayson told him what he did wrong and made him do it.) “But I am sorry for calling you weak, pathetic and every other bad thing I have said about you when you have shown that you are anything but those. I was mad at myself for being caught and took it out on you.”

Her glare softened.

“Apologies accepted. The school is this way.” She said with a smile and went towards the school. Damian walked by her side, his hands in his pockets.

Marinette looked at where his hands were, “If we are going to do this fake dating thing, I suggest we hold hands.”

Damian grabbed her hand and continued walking in silence. Her hands were so small and fitted perfectly in his. Oh God, it’s the curse again. Turning him into a sap. Do not think about her hands. And the fact that she took down a man twice her size with them which was an amazing sight to watch.

“Why are you so stiff? Loosen up a little. You are with the love of your life. Smile a little.”

Damian plastered on a fake smile, “Happy?”

“It looks fake. Being a model he will be able to tell.” Marinette remarked, “Are you sure you want to do this? We can still go get Tim to be my boyfriend.”

“I can do this. Drake wouldn’t be a better choice. It doesn’t help that you are relentlessly nit-picking me. Or are you that bad of a girlfriend?” Damian couldn’t help but sniped back. “Maybe that’s why Chat Noir left you.”

He found himself back against the world and her elbow at his neck. (He would forever deny that he liked it.)

“Look here, Wayne. You know nothing about me and you shouldn’t assume that you do. Chat Noir was revoked of his status as a hero for his behaviour. If you don’t act the part properly, I am going to have my former partner, who has absolutely no sense of boundaries, harassing me in my civilian life and I have already dealt enough of his advances to last a lifetime. I have given you so many chances to get out of this which you refused and yet, you are half-assing it. So are you in this 100 percent or not? Because I am at the end of my patience right now.”

“The boy who is obsessed with you is the former Chat Noir?”

“Yes, I will explain about that later but what’s your answer?”

“I will give it my best shot but I have never pretended to be in love.”

“Were you not taught in the League?”

“There were seduction tactics shown to members when they were old enough and I left them when I was 10 but I am not sure if those skills can be applied here.”(Slamming your opponent against the wall wasn’t one of them but she was doing a great job of it so far. No. No. No. He is not his father. This is different from whatever he has with Kyle.)

She released her hold on him and grabbed his hand, leading him towards her school.

“Well then, here are the basics. Everytime you look at me, just think of your favourite things to make your smile a little more genuine. Maybe call me by a pet name if you want. Keep your touch on me like you can’t keep your hands off of me and act really reluctant when you have to let go. You will only keep them my shoulders, arms, hands and waist or I will break your hand. I will do the same. If you are going to have to kiss me, give me a warning.” He looked into her blue eyes and nodded.

“Alright.”

“Oh. I almost forgot. In case they try to question our relationship. My favourite colour is red. My favourite song is ‘Fearless’ by Jagged Stone.(I love Taylor. Sue me) And we met online a few months ago. You came all the way to Paris to see me a month ago and asked me out. We will talk more that later. Oh, I also love designing and have dreams of being a famous fashion designer.-”

Marinette rambled on which Damian found a little endearing. He looked forward to knowing more about her. He added a few comments here or there about himself (because it was only fair.) and ways to improve their cover story about their relationship.

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

“We are nearly at school. Let’s start the act, Romeo.” Marinette whispered at him and looked at him with a bright smile that brought a tiny smile to his face. Okay, maybe he liked Marinette a little bit but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with her.

He moved her hand holding his to the crook of his elbow.

“Is this acceptable, my lady?”

She wrinkled her nose, (Adorable. No. Don’t go there) “This is fine. But can you not call me that? And princess too? I may have erased his memories as Chat Noir but it could be a trigger to bring them back.”

“Understandable. What about Malak?”

She blushed. Marinette had learned Arabic a while back and was very fluent in the language.

“It’s okay.” She said in a soft voice. She put her other hand on his bicep and leaned on his shoulder.

“You don’t look like a touchy-feely person so is this fine?”

“Yes.”

“Cool, let me tell you more about the atrocious lies that had passed her mouth.”

They walked into the school courtyard, arm-in-arm, for the entire school, especially Marinette’s class, to see. The perfect picture of a loving couple. Marinette’s blush from earlier was evident on her face, leaving no room for doubt about her new relationship status. (Many guys, gals and pals were upset over it.) As they both walked up the stairs, whispering and laughing about who knows what (gulliable and idiotic classmates they have to suffer learning with), two pairs of green eyes followed them.

In this case, the saying ‘green-eyed monsters’ was true. One was envious of the boy who held the girl he wanted in his arms and the other was envious of the attention the couple was receiving.

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

Damian escorted Marinette to her class. He gave her a kiss on her cheek and said, loud enough for the class to hear, “Bye, Malak. I will pick you up after school for our date.”

“B-bye, Damian.”

He took her hand, gave a kiss to the back of it and departed, leaving a very red-faced Marinette behind. The rest of the class parted the way as Damian walked past.

She rushed into her seat where Chloe sat beside it, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“Sooooo, Mari-bug, how was your date? You two rushed out of there so quickly and left your stuff behind. So eager to spend time with your boyfriend, eh? You enjoyed it very much by the looks of it.”

“Sorry about that, Chloe. Did you bring my bag and the cheese danishes?” Marinette tried to change the topic. And she also wanted to make sure a god of destruction doesn’t go hungry and angsty during school. “Yep, here you go,” Chloe said, handing Marinette her bag and a box of cheese-flavoured snacks for Plagg, “Your mom packed some for you.”

“Marinette. Where have you been the last two days? And you came back with a boy. I am honestly worried about your behaviour.” Lila played the concerned classmate wonderfully.

“Yeah, Marinette. This is a new low, even for you.” Alya added.

Marinette readied herself to tell the cover story Damian and her worked out on the way here.

“Lila, I appreciate your ‘concern’. But the last four days have been a little hard on me so excuse me if I am a little snappy today. You see, Damian disappeared and didn’t return home after school on Friday. So when he didn’t pick up for our weekly video call, I panicked and called his family and they told me what happened. They sent me a plane to get out of Paris so I can’t get akumatized.”

“Was that why you were gone on Saturday?” Chloe asked, playing along although she already knew why Marinette wasn’t in Paris the last four days.

“Yeah. Sorry for not telling you guys. It was sorta last minute. Thankfully, he wasn’t kidnapped actually. His biological mother picked him up but never told his father that she was taking him. I just came back last night. Dami followed me to make sure I am okay.”

“What a bunch of bullcrap.” Alya said, “I don’t believe you.”

Oh. The irony... “Alya, I don’t care if you do. My life is my own business. So keep your nosy nose out of it. Your opinions don’t matter to me anymore, stranger.” Marinette internally was tired of this silly routine and wanted this to end already.

Alya wanted to pick a fight with her over the smallest things she did for the past months. She wondered why her former best friend hated her this much.

“Lila told me that you were skipping school and you paid an actor to be your pretend boyfriend.”

Pretending to not hear what Alya said, Marinette turned towards Chloe, “Hey, you never told me about how you met Tim. I can’t believe that you two are friends.”

“We met at one of those charity galas-”

“Hey, we were talking to you.” Alya cut her off. To which Chloe glared at the ombre-haired girl.

“I thought our conversation was done. What else am I supposed to say?”

Marinette was frustrated and hid that fact well, showing any reaction would give the game away. If she had reacted, it would further fuel the fire of Alya’s self-righteousness, making her believe that Marinette was somehow guilty of what Lila told her about. Lila managed to turn nearly the entire class against her by appealing to their ‘hero’ side and outbursts from Marinette and the others made them more sure of themselves of being in the right. It was so deep-rooted that nothing would sway them to logical reasoning. Maybe except Phase 2. Phase 1 was made a little easier when Talia kidnapped her and made her miss a few days of school.

Phase 2 was to not acknowledge the lies or just appear uninterested. It would illustrate the point that people don’t have to listen to them if they don’t want to. If possible, sow little seeds of doubt to the ones Lila had a looser grip on. The more people they can slowly get on their side, the better.

Alya was confused, usually Marinette would throw a ‘temper tantrum’ about how she didn’t do that and Lila lied.“I-, you should-, You should apologize to Lila.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, “For what this time?”

“For saying that she was lying.”

“Pray tell, when did in any of our conversations so far did I do that? I mean I don’t like the fact that she just accused me with little evidence of paying my someone to be my boyfriend but I am not going to fight with anyone over it. Maybe I did do that, Maybe I didn’t. Maybe there is a good reason I did those things. The thing is Lila should keep to her own business and I will keep to mine. And as should you. I know you are a reporter at heart but you should at the very least respect my privacy.”

Alya stayed silent, fuming. Everyone was looking at them now. She realized that the designer was right and if she pushed further, she would be the bad guy.

“I thought so. Now, go away. I have nothing else to say to you. Let Chloe finish her story of how she met Tim which you so rudely interrupted.”

“Who’s Tim?” Lila asked, wanting to know more about Marinette’s boyfriend to work on an angle to get him away from the ravenette.

“Mari-Bug’s boyfriend’s older brother. Now, shoo peasants, we are talking. Anyways, Mommy took me to when I was younger so I could mingle with all the other rich kids and get connections. Timothy was there and back then, he was still with the Drakes...”

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

Lila and Alya returned to their seats, both were visibly upset although Lila was seething inside. When Marinette was not at school for the last two days, the Italian thought that it was the last she had seen of her. Today, she showed up with a handsome boy on her arm and by the looks of his clothes, rich too. If she manages to get ‘Damian’ to break up with that pest and date her instead, then she would have a rich, handsome boyfriend devoted to her and that brat would be so heart-broken that an akuma so powerful would be made that even Ladybug won’t be able to defeat. A two for one deal. Lila started planning (scheming) to take her boyfriend away.

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(Part 7)

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Edit: I am so sorry. I forget to add the taglist.

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop, @all-mights-asscheeks, @idk-j-go-with-it , @loysydark, @thenillabean, @lolieg, @zalladane, @silvergold-swirl, @henie04, @blueblossombliss, @khneltea, @mochegato, @itsmeevie01, @roguishredaxion, @alyssadeliv, @steph-hearthlight, @adrestar, @eliza-bich, @abrx2002, @hikari55ttva, @doglover82, @daminette5074, @moon5608,@justafanwarrior, @allis-sun, @animegirlweeb, @aespades, @corporeal-terrestrial, @mildlydeadly, @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl,

[descendantofthesparrow]

Finale - Rewrite - POYW - Harry Hook x reader - part 7 - Beast

=

It had taken a bit to get from the castle to the dorms but now you, Celia, and Uma sat in Audrey’s room as Mal and Evie searched the campus for any clues for where the possessed princess might be. Uma was on Audrey’s bed reading her diary while you lay across her legs, playing with the fishnet wrapped around Uma’s waist.

Celia was digging through Audrey’s jewelry as Mal and Evie turned to the room, both looking exhausted from their run around campus “she’s nowhere on campus” Evie breathed, leaning on the vanity as she caught her breath.

“Found her diary,” Uma said distracted as she continued to flip through the private pages. You had told her of Audrey’s struggles before but seeing them on paper was a bit of a heartache, wow her grandmother really was a bitch. “and damn did you ruin her life” Uma chuckled, setting down the diary and giving Mal a sharp smile

Mal just looked sad at the notion, yes, she might have originally not cared about running someone's life (Audrey and Uma being examples of her old cruelty) but knowing first hand from Audrey’s own diary that she had ruined her life made her feel terrible “did you find anything that we don’t already know or?” Mal asked dryly, trying to brush off her feelings so they could get this mission done.

“she hangs out at fairy cottage” Uma closed the book and tossed it aside, patting your leg as it hit your head. “you know? Where flora, fauna, and Merryweather hid her mom from your mom?” Uma teased, laughing a bit as Mal rolled her eyes.

“ha-ha, yeah yeah, do you think that’s where we'll find her?” Mal laughed dryly and looked down at you, as out of all the vks you were the one who was around Audrey the most.

“Maybe, she does hang out there a lot, and it’s very secluded, deep in the enchanted woods and way past Auroria castle, it’ll be past midnight by the time we get there” you muttered, picking at your nails. Mal nodded, it would be their best bet.

“Then let's head back to Evie's and wait for the boys, then we’ll head for Auroria immediately, we’re short on time as it is” Mal pushed you up from your spot on Uma’s legs and let you grab Uma, who was being very stubborn, wanting to stay on Audrey’s very comfortable bed.

Evie turned and gave a disapproving look to the thieving Celia, who had one of Audrey’s gaudy blue songbird tiaras on and multiple other pieces of jewelry. “First off, those don’t suit you at all, second, the bling stays here” Evie snorted as Celia pouted at her.

“But she’s bad!” Celia wined, shoulders slumping as Evie reached out and took the tiara off her head.

“And Dizzy made better jewelry when she was seven, now come on, put them away and I’ll get you some styling jewelry after this is all over, I’ll ever take you to the bayou.” Celia perked up a bit at that and started to take off Audreys stuff, rushing after the others with Evie after she set the last bracelet down.

-

“Ben!” Carlos called out for the lost king, looking around every turn in the search for their dear friend. Jay called out for him as well, Gil attempting to use his tracking skills for any footprints that might lead them to Ben, Harry trailing behind with Hadie as the five boys searched for the King.

Carlos sighed, calling Dude back to him and sitting down on a rock, pulling out a scrap of Ben’s clothing for Dude to smell and track. “come on, nothing?” Gil perked up and almost skipped over to a blueberry bush, picking some off and moving aside for Hadie as the older vk looked especially curious at the bush.

“Are these blueberries?” Hadie asked, picking one off and tossing it in his mouth, his eyes comically sparkling as the taste. Gil chuckled and picked off a handful for the god and poured it into his hands, Hadie devouring them in seconds.

“ya know” Jay chuckled walking up next to Gil and picking off a berry or two “that is the same face Mal makes when she eats strawberries” Carlos turned and laughed, nodding along.

“It is! Ya know, I always thought you and Mal had some similarities, I guess your dad being, well, your dad, solidifies that eh?” Hadie just shrugged, distracted by the delicious blue-purple fruit.

“soooo, how long have you known about you and Mal being siblings?” Gil asked, once again Hadie just shrugged.

“uh, I guess when Maleficent dropped her off at dads door” Hadie muttered rubbing his lips free from the stain of the fruit. "so, around 19 years I guess” Gil hummed and nodded, picking a couple more blueberries and popping them in his mouth, Dude and Harry walking around looking for Ben still.

Harry looked down as Dude pawed at his boot and then nodded, realizing Dude had picked up a scent. “Pup!” Carlos looked up at Harry, then silently cursed to himself, why did he still respond to that dumb nickname Harry had given him when he was 7. “Dude found somethin’ !” Carlos stood and ran after Harry, who was already trailing Dude as the dog went off the main trail and went deeper into the forest.

Gil, Jay, and Hadie quickly followed, not realizing there were eyes on them as they resumed their search for the king.

-

The girls arrived at Evie's cottage, which luckily wasn’t far from Auradon prep especially with the bikes, and hopped off their vehicles, Uma whistling in appreciation for the quaint home “nice place” Uma muttered, smirking a bit as Evie grinned at her.

“I got a good deal” she chuckled, taking her key out and unlocking the back patio doors, the five girls walking in and getting comfortable. Celia suddenly stopped as she noticed light snores coming from the parlor and tiptoed in, gasping a bit as she locked her eyes onto the twins and Dizzy, all three sound asleep.

Dizzy seemed to be having a nightmare, and Celia quickly calmed it with a long blanket and soothing words, Evie smiling at the two as (y/n) made sure the twins were okay. Mal walked into the living room and sighed with relief, all the other vks were still here, asleep, but here. Claudine, Colin, and Ginny were huddled up on the couch with Ginny as the main pillow, Colin on her legs as Claudine took her chest, and Diego was sound asleep in Carlos’ favorite armchair with the leg rest popped out.

Uma turned as sudden loud snoring came from the room just off the kitchen, Uma, Mal, and Evie quickly walked towards it only to find Doug on the ground in a crumpled mess, some tubes of fabric rolled out across from him. He must’ve been cleaning up when the sleeping spell washed over the house. “uh, who’s the dude?” Uma asked, Evie pushing past her and kneeling next to him.

“Doug, my boyfriend” Evie placed her hand on his head and checked for any injuries, sighing in relief when she found none, he might be sore from sleeping on the hard tile of her workroom but otherwise he’d be fine. “let's see if this works, Mal” Mal perked up, raising her brow “go get the yellow bubbling potion in the thin and long glass tube that’s at the top of the cabinet above the refrigerator,” Mal grumbled and turned, calling out for (y/n), since she couldn’t reach that spot; might as well get some help with it. Damn her 5’2 height.

Uma raised her brow in curiosity as Evie sat Doug up to get ready to administer the potion “uh, what potion?”

“Some anti-sleep spell potion I made a while ago” Evie smiled at Uma, and Uma paused a bit, suddenly fearing the once thought to be a simple fashion forward prissy isle princess “I made it from some of the poison from Maleficent’s spindle on the needle, should reverse the spell on Doug. I know Mal said there’s not a lot that can reverse the curse of the scepter but there’s no harm in trying” Mal and (y/n) returned with the bubbling yellow potion and Mal handed it to Evie. Evie popped off the cork and poured it down the sleeping Doug’s throat.

Evie clasped her hands together and prayed to whatever gods were listening that it worked. And it did, because a few moments later Doug's eyes fluttered open and he smiled softly at Evie “thank goodness for your potion-making skills” he rasped, leaning in to hug Evie as she squealed and pounced on him.

Uma laughed a bit and turned to give the two some privacy as Evie quickly caught Doug up to speed, (y/n) and Mal following close behind. Uma paused as she looked directly at the unpackaged Jane cake.

You met her gaze then looked at the cake, then sighed “well, it's gonna go bad if we don’t” you gestured to the cake and Uma practically skipped towards it “just leave a slice for Jane at least” Uma nodded, grabbing a knife and cutting herself a sizable piece, Celia running into the room to get on the cake action.

“I hope they find Ben” Mal muttered, sitting at the kitchen window counter and leaning on her hands, eyes downcast in worry for her boyfriend.

“I’m sure they’ll find him Mal” you comforted, rubbing her shoulder and offering her some cake. “have some faith in them”

-

Carlos called for Ben as Dude let them deeper into the forest, the dog pausing ever so often and then leading them in a new direction. “Ben!!” Carlos yelled out, spinning in a circle to get his voice to reach father as Dude sniffed at a large claw/shoe print.

Dude shook his head and turned to look at Carlos ‘I found a print! Smells like Ben and-something really really smelly! Even worse than Jay's power shakes!’ Carlos snorted and walked up to Dude to look at the print, yelping as a large stone statue leaped from the brush next to him, swiping at his face but thankfully missing.

“holy shit!” Carlos yelled, picking up Dude and running back towards Jay, the stone statue close behind. Jay’s eyes widened as he got a good look at the beast. It was one of the marble lion statues from Auradon prep!

The boys turned on their heels and ran, Hadie taking a small chance and creating a fireball in his hand then throwing it at the statue, grinning as it blasted the beast into pieces. But it was replaced with two more that lept from the brush just behind him. “fuck!” Hadie yelled bolting after the others.

…

Ben opened his blackened eyes to the sound of screams…familiar screams. He lept up from his shady spot under a tree and bolted towards the sounds. His friends! His friends were in danger! He slid to a stop on all fours and let out a pitiful whine as he watched Harry, Gil, Jay, Carlos, and Hadie run away from the marble beasts chasing them, Hadie taking quick shots at them but unfortunately missing.

Ben let out a low growl as several more marble beasts went to attack his friends, he arched back on his heels and went to pounce but stopped. He saw his horrific reflection in a small puddle next to him, beastly matted hair, black eyes, sharp fangs, dark curling horns, paws with claws the size of his face, he had also grown several times bigger than his human size.

He was a monster, he sank back, watching his friends with watery eyes as they attempted to fight against the beasts. Ben let out a pained roar as one of the beasts jumped at Harry and sliced into his shoulder, the pirate falling to the ground in agonizing pain as Harry screamed out. Blood poured from his shoulder and Ben steeled himself.

They were his friends, they were being hurt, they cared about Ben.

They wouldn’t fear him, and they would never hurt him.

He had to be brave, for them. As their king and friend.

Ben leaped out of the brush, letting out a mighty roar and slamming into two marble beasts, the stone crumbling under his claws in an instant. He whirled around and jumped towards Harry, slamming into the beast about to clamp its jaws around Harry’s throat and tossing it away. Ben let out a terrifying roar, one that echoed out throughout the forest.

“Beasty?” Harry weakly asked from below him, hand clamped on his heavily bleeding shoulder. Ben looked down at him and let out a cooing whine, looking back up and growling as another two statues came near him. Ben reared up and slashed at the beasts, the marble crumbling under his strength.

“Go Ben!” Carlos yelled from next to Jay, who stared slack-jawed at beast Ben. “you got this! Kick their butts!” Ben grinned at Carlos’ encouragement and did quick work of the last two beasts, swiping and destroying them under his jaw and claws.

Gil and Carlos cheered for Ben as Jay stared in awe, Hadie bolting towards Ben and sliding underneath him to attend to Harry. Ben backed away and nudged at the slowly becoming unresponsive Harry. “shit” Hadie curse, patting Harry’s face to wake him “come on Hook, don’t pass out on us”

Carlos, Gil, and Jay ran closer to the three, Jay grabbing onto Ben’s collar just in case he got afraid of their reactions and tried to run. But thankfully that was the last thing on Ben’s mind as he looked down at Harry.

“Harry come on dude” Gil whispered, taking off his bandana and soaking up the blood as Harry’s eyes fluttered “(y/n)s gonna kill me if i-woah!” suddenly Ben was sprayed with water, his body glowing a soft periwinkle as he shrunk down to his normal size and his horns, paws, claws, and fangs reduced with it.

Ben shook his head and looked around, eyes widening as he spotted Jane holding a long water gun, probably half full with enchanted lake water. “Jane!” he called, waving her over to Harry. “help him! the water can help!” Jane hurried over and gasped as she saw the badly wounded Harry. She kneeled next to him and gently sprayed the water onto this shoulder, the slices glowing the same blue as Ben had and closing up, the blood disappearing as the water ran over it.

Harry slowly regain consciousness and groaned, sitting up with the help of Ben and Hadie. “wha-Beastie boy? How did yeh?” Ben just nodded at Jane then quickly explained what had happened to him.

“Audrey, no, Maleficent cursed me to become my worst fear, an unlovable beast like my father, but the water” Ben nodded at Jane again, who was being hugged by Gil “turned me back, it breaks spells and can drastically reverse curses but-“ Ben gestured to himself, still mostly furry and fanged “-only mostly, we’ll have to defeat Maleficent to fully remove the curse” Harry just nodded, still out of it slightly and stood on wobbly legs, he had lost a bit of blood so it would be a minute before he didn’t feel dizzy anymore.

“Let's head back to Evie's place, they’re waiting on us,” Gil said, pushing Jane to Carlos for the younger vk to take her as Gil and Jay helped Harry get situated to move out. “and We’re running out of time” Ben nodded and followed after his friends, Hadie trailing just behind them, eyeing the marble statues that had been destroyed by him and Ben.

-

Mal stepped behind Celia's chair, looking at Uma slightly unsure before she decided to just go for it “Thank you, Uma. That was a really good idea” Uma turned to her with raised brows, confused on why Mal was talking to her willingly “searching Audreys room, now we have an idea of the right track” Uma frowned and glanced at you, who shrugged and continued to eat one of your snacks that you had hidden at Evie's just in case.

“Is there an insult in there or something that I missed?” Uma asked with a mouthful of cake, Mal shook her head, sincere in her words.

“no, no insult, I just…wanted to thank you.”

-

Audrey, no, Maleficent clicked her tongue in frustration, slowly her weak little failure of a daughter and her ‘friends’ were figuring out where she had gone and were getting closer to beating her…if only little Malsy didn’t have that blasted ember, it was the only thing next to the wand that could defeat the scepter and reverse the possession spell she had placed upon the daughter of Aurora.

“On the right track,” Maleficent said through Audrey, glaring down at the image on her scepter as Mal sat across from Uma, getting a plate of cake for herself “you won't be going anywhere” Maleficent looked up and smirked at Chad, who looked as if he was five seconds from peeing his pants. “how about we mess em up a little?” Chad looked at her fearfully and attempted to suggest something less…evil. Which made Maleficent angry.

“I say we go back to my place and binge-watch some tv?” Chad suggested, his eyes wide with terror “huh? Or maybe order some stuff online?” Maleficent/Audrey tilted her head with a smirk, somehow that translating to ‘yeah let’s do that instead’ to Chad “yeah? Yeah!” Maleficent/Audrey flicked her hand down and Chad followed it, his body glowing a soft green as he went to his knees. “no?! um-what about pizza?” Maleficent/Audrey flicked her hand out and Chad fell on his ass, his back facing an open closet…which gave Maleficent/Audrey an idea “okay, you don’t like Pizza, salad! Sa-“ Chad stopped as he looked towards the front door of the little cottage the two were in, eyes widening as he looked at “Audrey’s” shadow.

Except it wasn’t Audrey’s shadow anymore, once with long hair and a crown perched on her head, was now a taller older figure, with curling horns protruding from its head. Even Chad wasn’t dumb enough to not figure it out. He looked from the shadow to Audrey as discreetly as he could, clenching his jaw as he noticed Audrey’s usual honey brown eyes were turning a vivid green, similar to Mal's eyes.

He went to stand and attempt to take the scepter from his possessed friend but Maleficent blasted him back with a wave of her scepter and Chad was in the closet, the lock sliding shut with another wave.

He started to bang on the door, pleading for Audrey to fight the spell that had taken hold. Maleficent only laughed, there was no saving Audrey now, by the time her daughter and her friends got here, it would already be too late.

Maleficent turned and disappeared into a swirl of green smoke, she had a much better place to execute her evil plans than in this old hideout the good fairies once hid the princess Aurora.

-

Mal chewed her lip as she watched Uma from across the dining table, Uma ignoring her as she enjoyed another piece of Jane’s cake. “Okay I know I’ve been feeding you sugar for the past three years but slow down you’re gonna give yourself a sugar crash and stomach ache” you joked as you pulled the almost empty plate away from Uma, laughing as she glared and pulled it back.

“Fuck you let me have my sugar,” Uma said in a teasingly angry tone, a smile on her face as you tried to take the plate again “take the plate and I stab you”

“Stab me and I’ll turn you into calamari” you shot back, snickering as Uma rolled her eyes.

“That’s squid dumbass, I’m an octopus.” you held your hands up and sighed, leaning back in your chair and looking outside to keep an eye out for the boys.

“Hey, Uma?” Mal asked nervously, playing with her piece of cake as Uma looked at her with wary eyes “I um…I wanted to apologize” Uma looked genuinely shocked at that, sharing a look with you before looking back at Mal apprehensively, unsure of what Mal was going to say.

“I-I was a bitch of a kid” Uma snorted at that, going back to her cake as Mal continued to talk “I really was a bitch to you specifically, the…shrimp incident, the harassment after that, I treated you like dirt even before all that and I really want you do know that I regret it all, im sorry for the way I was and how I was so cruel to you, I know we were raised to be like that but still, I feel awful about it”

Uma glanced up at Mal, her face giving away nothing. Mal sighed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear “im not expecting your forgiveness or anything like that, I don’t expect your friendship, just because I apologized doesn’t automatically mean you should forgive or forget about the way I hurt you. So I understand if, after today, we never speak again” Mal smiled at Uma and looked down at her piece of cake, seeming as if a weight had finally been lifted off her chest.

Uma stared at her for a moment before nodding and pushing around a piece of cake with her fork “You were right (y/n)…she has changed” Uma muttered, pushing down a smile as Mal perked up at that and looked at her confused.

“(y/n) talked about me?” Mal asked, looking at (y/n) with shocked eyes “Why would you talk about me?” you shrugged and grabbed your bottle of root beer, keeping your eyes on the outside.

“Told her ‘bout you going to therapy n stuff and how you are actually doing better than just saying it and not changing at all” you hummed, sipping at your soda and sighing. “in my world, the movie you was a whole ass bitch and the writers didn’t develop your character properly at all, treated everyone like shit, including Ben…weird thought but what if we’re in the third movie right now?”

Uma and Mal shared a look of ‘ah right forgot she’s from another dimension where we’re fictional characters’ “that’s possible, but please don’t even mention that again I do not want to implode” Mal snarked, laughing a bit as you flipped her off without looking.

You froze as the hum of magic suddenly pulsed around you, a dome of blue magic that shimmered with green and pink surrounded the house like an airtight cage, sealing the doors and windows. “What the fuck!?” Mal yelled out, standing from her chair and rushing towards the windows, yelping as the dome pushed her back from them “It's Audrey, she trapped us!”

“Celia!” Uma yelled out for the young vk, the aforementioned girl rushing in just after that with a panicked look, running into Uma’s arms and burying herself into Uma’s side.

“What’s going on!” Evie yelled as she ran in from the living room, Doug just behind her with wide fearful eyes as he looked at the magic dome blocking the windows and doors.

“Audrey trapped us, Mal do you got a spell or something for this!?” you grunted as you slammed your shoulder into the patio doors, rubbing it as pain flared from a particularly hard smack.

Mal froze for a moment, trying to figure out a quick spell to get out of the castle when one finally came to mind “please work” Mal pleaded to herself, holding her hands out “You’ve caused my friends pain and fear/we’ve had enough, now disappear!” Mal went a twinge of pain run through her, mostly hitting her head as her hands sparked light blue with magic but nothing else happened “shit! I don’t think I can, I don’t have access to my magic anymore” Mal pressed her palm to her head as Uma looked down at her necklace, the ember within glowing along with her shell.

“What?!” you screeched, backing away from the door as the glass started to crack from the dome pressing on it “But you used a spell on the knights?!”

“I don’t know?! I think I connected to the ember or something?!” Mal grabbed onto Evie as the windows creaked with effort “what is she trying to do, kill us?!” Evie winced as the windows cracked, whelp, that’s fun, and hundreds of dollars down the drain to get those fixed.

Uma’s mind went back to when she and Mal had combined their magic to defeat the knights, and then remembered Mal had cast a spell with her, through the ember! Mal was right, she had connected with the ember! Uma stepped up to Mal, holding out her hand for Mal to take. Mal just looked at her confused and scared.

“Together,” Uma said forcefully, shaking her hand a bit to encourage Mal to take it “like with the knights, our magic together can overpower it.” Mal looked relieved at the idea and took Uma’s hand, the ember blazing bright blue as she did and their hands glowed teal-blue. Uma and Mal nodded at each other once before turning towards the patio doors, focusing on the dome just outside.

Uma’s eyes glowed turquoise as Mal’s glowed yellow, and her hair moved like fire once again. “You’ve caused our friends pain and fear/we’ve had enough, now disappear!” Uma squinted as the ember and her shell burst out in a bright show of light and another glow burst out from her and Mal’s conjoined hands and flowed out towards the rest of the house and the patio doors. The dome shattered with the burst and they were free. Uma and Mal’s hands dropped and separated, the ember within Uma’s necklace dimming from its lost connection with Mal.

Both Uma and Mal let out a slow breath, their shoulders dropping in relief as the tenseness from being trapped released. “you did it” Evie breathed out, looking relieved that her doors or windows didn’t shatter

“Nice, now get me the hell outta here” you grumbled, moving to push the doors open and gasping as you saw the boys running towards the house, with both Ben and Jane. “It’s the boys!”

The other girls followed you and Mal ran to Ben, Uma colliding with Gil as you ran into Harry's arms, slowing down as you noticed his sluggishness. “Harry” you breathed, gently squeezing his torso before pulling back to examine him “what’s wrong, did you get hurt?”

He just nodded, stumbling a bit as his supports named Gil and Jay had gone to make sure the rest of the girls were okay “aye, Audrey sent some stone statues at us, one of ‘em got me pretty good, it’s mostly healed though, Jane had some enchanted lake water” you nodded at Jane in thanks and she nodded back, leaning on Gil’s arm as he introduced her to Uma properly.

Uma caught your gaze and gasped, seeing the slices on Harry's shoulder as he pulled his hand away. She raced over to him and laid her hand on top of the shallow cuts and muttered a healing spell, focusing on the rips in the fabric of his shirt and jacket as well. A moment later Harry was fully healed and his clothes were fixed as well, he also looked as if he had renewed energy. He pulled Uma into a hug and thanked her, the sea witch nodding and patting his arm to tell him to let her go.

Mal was making sure Ben was okay, pursing her lips at his fuzzy face and fangs “Are you okay?” she asked concerned, knowing one of his greatest fears was turning into a beast. Ben smiled and shrugged.

“I am now” he hummed, giving Mal a reassuring pat on the arm “hey it’s okay, I was scared at first but-I’m not now, I’m not a beast, Im just” he gestured to himself “fluffy” Mal looked unconvinced but let it go, they didn’t have time to argue over Ben brushing his problems away when they were clearly important.

Ben looked over to Uma, looking slightly surprised to see her “Now where the hell have you been?” Uma just looked sheepish as Gil and Harry pouted at her. “wait lemme guess” Ben pointed at you as you snuck behind Harry “(y/n)s been hiding you at your request?”

“How in the hell did you guess that?” Uma said surprised, her eyes wide. Ben just shrugged.

“I know (y/n) and that is exactly something she would do, and knowing you from Harry and Gil, that is also something you would do” Uma turned to her boys, slightly surprised they seemed to talk about her that much. Harry and Gil just shrugged as Mal turned Ben’s attention to her.

“okay, so Uma found a clue in Audrey’s diary” Ben looked at Uma slightly disappointed that she had gone into Audrey’s private life like that but Mal quickly turned his attention to her again “I know I know, we’ll both apologize to her after this is all over, but now we think she may be in Fairy cottage, the one her mom was hidden in when she was a kid, do you have any idea where it may be?” Ben nodded, wringing his hands a bit.

“yeah, she took me there every fairy godmothers day…speaking of FG’s where is FG?” Mal, Evie, (y/n), Jay, Celia, Carlos, and Hadie all looked uncomfortable at that.

“uh, she got turned to stone” Hadie muttered, kicking away a stone at Jane and Ben’s shocked looks. “we were trying to get the wand and I suppose Audrey found out and stopped us before she could get it.” Ben nodded solemnly turning back to Mal, who gave him a sad smile. Ben took a deep breath and went into king mode, turning to Doug and Gil.

“Doug, Gil” the two looked up slightly surprised at his authoritative tone “go with Jane, find FG, I know she stone right now but knowing her exact location would be good” Mal went to say she was at the museum but stopped as Ben continued to talk “then get the wand just in case, Jane should be able to access it” He looked to Jane for confirmation and she nodded, looking sure she could control its magic this time around. “and if we do fail in defeating the scepter, you’ll be our last hope.” everyone nodded, the tension rising in the area as you all realized you were all heading into a final battle situation, where the stakes were high and death was probable. “good luck, take the bikes if you need to” at that Carlos opened the garage to reveal Harry and Gil’s new motorbikes, to which Gil and Jane climbed on his and Harry quietly threatened Doug to not ruin his.

Soon the three were off into the setting sun, Mal biting her lip as she remembered Beasts words on the deal ‘return the scepter and the crown to the museum at sunrise, or the barrier will be closed for good’

Ben intertwined their hands, seeming to know what Mal was thinking about, she gave him a watery smile and they turned to go back into Evie's place for a moment to make a quick plan with everyone before they all headed out.

-end of p7-

part 7 yall!!!! hoped you liked it!!! i really like how the beast ben part turned out along with Mals apology and the scene just after that :3

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[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 7th of June 2021

This is speculation only

Cards drawn 7th of June 2021

Question: What is Meghan planning for the G7 summit?

Interpretation: A deception. It will be a PR success at first, but then it will turn sour.

Card One: The Moon. Deception. Lies. Secrets. Driving people crazy with these secrets. The shadows and half seen things of night as opposed to the clear light of day.

The card shows the goddess Hecate, who dwelt in the underworld. She was regarded as one of the rulers or powerful figures in the underworld. Places associated with her were crossroads, tombs, and the scenes of crimes. Her companions were the Furies, the beings who tormented humans who broke the law of the gods. She presided over purification and expiation, and sent demons to torment people through their dreams. She is associated (among other things) with witches, plant lore, and childbirth.

Meghan is going to do something very deceptive. It is an action that in the past she would need to expiate, or submit to purification to be considered cleaned of it. It won't bother her, but it is something that most people would regard with horror if they knew the full story behind it. The Moon is lies, deceit, illusions, and this is what Meghan is going to use to conceal the truth, so we only see what she wants us to see. The public will be given a pretty surface picture, and the real truth underneath it will be much darker.

This deception may involve a child. Hecate hid from her parents in the house of a woman giving birth, and was sent to the underworld to be purified, where she remained. That link between Hecate and childbirth is coming through quite strongly in the energy of this card, as is a sense of bad/negative/dark energy.

This is the only major arcana card of the reading, so it is a dominant energy of the reading.

Card Two: The Six of Wands. This is a card of success. Something has come to a triumphant conclusion. There will be recognition by others and public acclaim. The card shows Jason triumphantly holding the golden fleece over his head, with his companions cheering him in the background.

Wands can be the suit of PR. Meghan is going to put out something via PR that will work for her. She will get attention, and she may even get some celebrities coming out and speaking about the news, just like Jason's companions are applauding him. It will be a glittering moment of success for her.

Card Three: The Ace of Pentacles. This is a card about new financial beginnings or a new opportunity for stability. It can also be a card about a baby or a child, especially and earth sign child. Here I think it is about a child. The PR news that Meghan puts out will be about a child, and it will bring her monetary rewards or the opportunity for monetary rewards as well as the PR success of the last card.

Card Four: The Four of Pentacles. This is a card of holding on tightly to things, especially material things and things of the past. These things can be ones that boost your self esteem, and a loss of them is like losing a part of your confidence.

The card shows Daedalus clutching four pentacles to his chest, the result of his work, while he looks across at his nephew, who is more skilled than Daedalus is at the craft. Daedalus is envious and jealous of his nephew, and it shows in his face.

Daedalus here represents Meghan (and Harry). Meghan is clinging on tightly to her titles, the last bit of glory she has from her days as a working royal. She is jealous of the 'big events' that other royals get to attend, such as the G7 summit. She is trying to get that attention back on herself. I think that this attitude will become very, very obvious to just about everyone. Her PR stunt will start to be seen as a desperate attempt to stay connected to the royal family in some way.

I keep thinking of William and Catherine as the Prince and Princess of Wales. I do not want anything to happen to elevate them to that position just yet, but when it does happen, Meghan will be consumed with jealousy and will be doing the equivalent of waving her titles (her gold coins) and shouting "I am relevant too, moreso than them!'.

Card Five: The Ten of Swords. This is a card of utter despair, of being at rock bottom. It is the card of betrayal, being stabbed in the back. The card shows Orestes huddles in a heap on the ground, utterly spent. The Furies that have tormented him are kept at bay behind a wall of swords, and over him stands the goddess Athena, the goddess on the card of Justice, protecting him. The sunrise at the back of the card signifies hope, but Orestes can not see it due to his exhausted despair.

Someone is going to hit rock bottom and be in complete despair. They will be betrayed by someone they care about. This is the end for them. They can not take any more. All they can do is lie there, like Orestes on the card, completely drained. They are protected, like Athena protects Orestes, but they can not do anything to save themselves.

I get two energies from this card. The first is Harry. Whatever Meghan does, it is doing to drive him to rock bottom. He will be like Orestes, just lying on the ground in exhausted despair, having no where to run and no where to turn to (in his mind). In reality, of course, he has the protection and comfort of his family if he will just reach out to them. The Ten of Swords can be a card of physical death, and I really hope Harry is going to be able to pick himself up and walk away from this and not kill himself over the betrayal.

The second energy I get from this card is Meghan. Something is going to go wrong for her, and it will be very bitter for her. She will feel abandoned by everyone who previously supported her.

Card Six: The King of Cups. This is a water sign man, particularly a Scorpio, and this card is coming through as Prince Charles. He will show the compassionate nature of the King of Cups in his dealings with Harry, as he will be moved by the pain Harry is suffering. He is coming through as a rather remote figure here, very kingly, not very personal. I hope to goodness that this following the card of betrayal and possible death (the Ten of Swords) does not mean the death of HM at this time as well as everything else going on in the reading.

Underlying Energy One: The Three of Pentacles. This is a card of three people working together to make something manifest in the world, by giving time or money or energy to the task. There is an initial success. The card shows Daedalus being paid for his work by three men, an early indication of the success of his crafting skills. This echoes the success shown in the Six of Wands card, and hints that the PR will be paid PR and not organic interest. The three figures indicate that there is more than one person involved in this deception of Meghan's. She may be the driving force, but she needs other people (possibly paid for their role) to pull it off.

The three of Pentacles is my surrogacy card, so again we have hints of a child being involved (as per the Moon card and the Ace of Pentacles card).

Underlying Energy Two: The Six of Pentacles. This is a card of money/status/rewards, asking for it and bestowing it. The card shows the King Minos giving six gold pentacles (quite a bit of money) to the craftsman Daedalus. King Minos looks similar enough to the figure on the King of Cups card for me to link the two. The person giving the money is Charles, and the people begging for the money (or more money) are Harry and Meghan. I don't know if they will get it (I suspect not), but part of the reason for the deception in the reading is to force more money out of Prince Charles. Meghan may be applying pressure for her children to have titles (worldly status) as well.

Conclusion: Meghan is going to put out a lie or deception of some sort to get attention. Several people will be involved in this deception, and part of the reason for her doing it is to force Prince Charles to give her more money (and perhaps titles for her kids). The deception will be initially successful, and may result in her obtaining some money. It may involve a child. Then something will show how attached Meghan is to her titles/her previous royal status, and things will go downhill. Meghan will feel betrayed and abandoned by the world, and Harry will hit rock bottom. Charles at the end is a shining figure, like a King and not the Prince of Wales. He will help Harry if Harry asks for help.

[snifflesthemouse]

Harry’s Blaming the Wrong People for his Genetic Trauma... Chapter Two of Lady Colin Campbell’s book reveals a lot!

         The more I listen to Lady Colin Campbell’s YouTube Channel, the more I realize how little I truly paid attention to what she was really saying in her most recent book. Lady C is a woman of high caliber. She understands better than anyone that HOW something is said matters MORE than WHAT is said. She knows how to get information out there in a way that prevents any lawsuit happy turkeys from getting litigious. There is more than one way to say something. Finding the way that says it all without saying it all… well that is an artform.

         To be honest, I believe all the answers we really want to know are woven into that book. Here recently, especially since the video about Princess Anne and the conversation had with Harry, I have noticed little clues dropped. One could almost argue that Lady C has somewhat direct information being given to her from close sources. And it is worth noting, to date there have been zero legal actions taken by the Montecito Muppets. Because of this, I have started re-reading Meghan and Harry, The Real Story. It’s important to remember I am taking this go-round literally line-by-line. This post is specifically about chapter two in the book.

         Chapter two is the chapter in which Lady Colin Campbell provides us with Harry’s and his wife’s upbringings. She draws comparisons between both spare and spouse, as well as contrasting points. When she gets to Harry’s side, the light bulb started to get juice. You see, when you consider that Lady Colin Campbell was first chosen by Diana to write the biography Andrew Morton later got tapped to pen, Lady Colin Campbell was given a unique opportunity. She was able to see who the person was behind the media image of Diana, Princess of Wales.

        She could not put aside her dignity, her responsibility of the truth, to seal that deal. Andrew Morton had no qualms with twisting truths slightly to perpetuate the Diana Saga. When you factor in Lady Colin Campbell’s knowledge on the British Royal Family, especially regarding the Queen Mother, you realize that Lady C is telling us who’s really behind the Montecito Man-Child just called Harry. Which again brings me back to the light bulb moment.

         This whole time, Harry and his wife have been hurling accusations at his family. Harry especially pointed blame toward his father, grandmother, and late grandfather for causing his “genetic pain” and trauma. But if we look at what Lady Colin Campbell writes in chapter two of the book, we learn the reality of life growing up for William and Harry. Lady C writes in chapter two that Diana would encourage the boys to go against the grain, even if that meant bucking the protocols and measures put in place to protect the Crown’s survival.

         Lady C mentions that William and Harry both were wild children with little to no rules to follow from their mother. She writes that Diana was infamous for screaming matches, throwing matches, and the peace of the home rested solely on the status of Diana’s love life. She says Charles was approving of James Hewitt, knew of their affair, and was okay with him teaching the boys how to ride horses. Diana would rotate between James Hewitt, Hasnat Kahn, and eventually Dodi. When trouble was brewing for Diana and a lover, she brought that trouble to Charles.

          Furthermore, the Queen Mother was so concerned with instilling her own influences on the future of the Crown, she was a major influence in the issues between Prince Charles and his mother, Her Majesty the Queen. Lady Colin Campbell even writes in chapter two that the Queen Mother would tell Prince Charles it isn’t his place to stand up to the mother of his children, even when she was leading her boys down a wild-child path.

           History cannot ignore the facts. Lady Colin Campbell even highlights how Diana’s own grandmother was so disgusted with how Diana was behaving and undermining the monarchy, she died before Diana and she could make amends. Her grandmother was a Lady of the Bedchamber for the Queen Mother, and she died 4 years before Diana. Her own grandmother saw through her tricks, as the Queen Mother did.

         Again, what’s my long, drawn out point? Well, just in the first half of chapter two… we learn that Charles is a hot mess because of the Queen Mother’s meddling and Diana was the one in control of how the boys were raised. As a matter of fact, Diana was known to tell the boys “do whatever you want as long as you don’t get caught”.

         Of course, I still have the rest of chapter two to finish, but I found it especially interesting that Lady C quotes the Kensington Palace chef, Darren McGrady (1993-1997) as remembering Diana telling him frequently to keep an eye out for William. She would tell him that William would manage, but Harry was an airhead like her. The exact wording on page 47 of the book says “You take care of the heir; I’ll look after the spare” (Campbell, 2020). So what does all this mean? Why does it matter? And how is THIS a light bulb moment for me?

         Well, when you consider the fact Harry and his wife repeatedly bash his own family (more so from the former lately than the latter)… and you consider the factual recollections from everyone else… you realize Harry is blaming the wrong people for his problems. He says his father and grandparents are to blame for his own pain, that his father only treated him how he was treated by his own parents. But that goes against reality and truth. Because Charles was raised differently than his siblings; mainly because of the Queen Mother favoring him. Plus, William and Harry spent far more time residing with their mother than they did their father. By the age of twelve, a child’s personality is already well-seeded and developed. Essentially, who you were around puberty is who you are now, save for the maturity gained.

         What we have here is repeated historical recollections of both women, the Queen Mother and Diana, being at the source of it all. Charles failed to step in and prevent his boys from growing up wildly misbehaved because he took more advice from the Queen Mother than his own mother and father. We have Diana constantly instilling in Harry this sense of bucking tradition and being the rebellious one. Both women had a direct hand in creating who Harry is. Both women left him rather large chunks of change when they passed. Yet… neither are blamed when Harry goes on the record? You mean to tell me, the two women who essentially gave you all of your wealth… the two women who predominately raised you to a teen… had no impact on you life nor bare some of the weight of responsibility for your issues? Just your father? Hmm.

         Why does Harry only blame his father and his grandparents? Why doesn’t he ever utter one word about his mother that is honest instead of some fanatical warped version of a distant memory? He instead hoists all the blame from his own mother and great-grandmother onto the Royal Family. Why does he never mention how his mother would have screaming matches with his father, throwing things, or how she had multiple heated affairs of her own? How she struggled with her own relationships and would gaslight his father? We hear him slant his father for cheating on his mother, but never a word about his mother cheating on his father, too.

         My whole point is Harry is comfortable blaming the people still living who cannot respond to these accusations. He is not comfortable with the truth. Why? Well, let’s face it. A lot of the affection and love people have for Harry is transference. Most people “loved” him because they loved her. They loved Harry because she loved Harry. People felt like they were serving, honoring even, Diana’s legacy by sparing Harry a harsh glance. He’s the spare, “Diana’s second son” who’s not so bright. Hey let’s give the ol’ chap a break.

         He can’t let anything get in the way of his mother’s victimhood, martyrdom, sainthood status. It tarnishes his own brand. When the world starts remembering the facts or realizing Diana wasn’t so innocent, the world stops garnering sympathy for Harry. The world isn’t as easily manipulated when they don’t feel sorry for you, remember? So, Harry’s biggest chore to date is protecting that image of the lamb taken to slaughter that he paints his mother to be. Without that, his own brand crumbles.

         Sorry again for the rambling, but it’s important to truly think and consider just how vital a role both women had and still have in Harry’s life now. Two of the biggest reasons he could just leave the Royal way of life are the Queen Mother and Diana. They are also two of the biggest influences that made life as traumatic as it was. Yet, never a word mentioned about their own responsibility in Harry’s “generic pain”. Oops, meant genetic.

[numberonephantompizza1]

Poppy Fanfic: “Ask Her”

For context: This is a fanfic I wrote in order to join the Poppy Milk dev team and show off my writing skills. Since the callout at the time said we’d need to write a lot of sidequests, I wanted to ask the question of what a Poppy-centered side-quest would be like. I got the idea that it would be from an Asker’s perspective, and everything sort of came naturally after that. Even though I’m on the dev team right now, it’s not canon to Omega Timeline: Poppy’s Story and even has some inaccuracies that contradict canon. With that said, please feel free to read the story below the cut.

---

You noticed something very different inside your room when you woke up. The lights were off and the sun hadn’t yet risen, but there was a certain… aura, coming from your door. You were filled with a certain trepidation, but… you approached it. It was hard to see in the light, but it looked… grey. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stepped through...

...and found about the last person you would’ve expected. The spitting image of Frisk - CORE!Frisk, that was, looking up at you, in the middle of a white void.

“Wh- You’re real?!” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course I’m real. Have you been taking all this multiverse stuff for granted? Everything is real somewhere,” Core answered, simply. 

“I… I don’t… and you, me…” you panted, starting to feel a small panic attack coming on.

“Focus,” Core snapped their fingers, grounding you back in reality. Okay, this was happening now.

“Let’s get down to business. Simply: you don’t like me. And I don’t like you. But we BOTH like Poppy. Poppy, my dear, sweet angel… has unfortunately recently come to the realization that Askers ALSO exist in the multiverse. And now she wants to do a ‘meet n’ greet’ with one of her fans. Trust me, I TRIED to talk her out of it, but she can be darn persuasive when she wants to be. And as you’re now realizing, that’s where you come in. 

“I wanna make you a deal. You play along with whatever Poppy wants until she gets bored of this. If you’re on your best behavior - and that means, don’t give her anything bad, don’t tell her anything you KNOW she shouldn’t know, don’t use any magic, and be a general good influence - if you play nice, in exchange, I will allow you to hang out with ANY resident of the Omega Timeline. 

“Want to spend a day full of wacky hijinks with a Papyrus, or even an Underswap Sans? Consider it done. Want to know how Deltarune Chapter 2 plays out ahead of time? I know a Susie with your name on it. Whatever you want, so long as you play by the rules, and don’t ask for anyone obviously ridiculous. So… do we have ourselves a deal?”

You contemplated that offer, and everything that was happening, trying to suppress your inner urge to geek out for just a few moments. The Omega Timeline, Poppy, and all the AU’s you could think of and more were real. And you just got an invitation to visit them.

“Yeah, of course!” you nodded excitedly, though your enthusiasm only seemed to make Core more anxious.

“Don’t make me regret this…” Core sighed, as the whiteness seemed to melt away into a cozy-looking house with wooden floors and lime walls, where you were standing directly outside of a white door. Core seemed to have disappeared.

Technically, there was nothing stopping you from exploring. So you did just that. You walked up to a shelf with some family photos. One was a photo of Poppy, Core, Dusted and Rust all together, in some meadow, looking happy. At least, you assumed Dusted and Rust were happy, they didn’t show up well on camera. There was another photo of Poppy alone, looking somewhat younger than she did on the blog, seated on a chair in a photo that looked far more staged. She held an actual poppy flower in her hand and smiled brightly.

You opened the cabinet doors, curious of what knick-knacks you might find in there. Some crayons, a few random glass cups, some art by 3-year-old Poppy that was so poorly done its meaning was hard to decipher, and a locked box. You reached for the box--

“Getting a bit sidetracked, aren’t we?”

You jolted up, and faced Core behind you. Even though they were child-sized, they crossed their arms with the poise and authority of a stern parent. You laughed anxiously. “Ahahaha… ahaha… ha……..”

“...Strike one.” Core said, and vanished. The meaning of that was all-too clear. Deciding not to dilly dally any longer, you went to the room you suspected to be Poppy’s, and knocked. 

“Just a sec!” Poppy said, and opened the door. She looked up at you, and gasped. “Wow, Granpa really did come through…!” She twirled excitedly. “You must be my adoring fan, aren’t you?” she asked.

You stared down at the girl in stunned silence.

“To be honest, I kinda figured you’d be some gray guy with sunglasses, but that’s kinda silly in hindsight. How you doin’?” She asked that last line in a mock accent as you continued to stare.

“Baby,” you said.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you quickly tried to change the subject. “Yeah, it’s… y’know, it’s great to be here…” You clasped your hands together, biting your lip. You were in an Undertale AU, faced with the AU granddaughter of another AU character. You still weren’t entirely over that. Was this fever dream? Fandom heaven, or fandom hell?

“I know! Once I heard you guys weren’t from the Omega Timeline, I realized I hadn’t met even ONE of my fans… even if you guys are super annoying some of the time.” 

“Uhhh, yeah…” you wondered if you should apologize on behalf of the askers who put Poppy in the hospital that one time. Then again, it seemed kind of awkward, and it might have been best not to bring that up while Core was watching, which was always. Looking down at the cutesy girl, it was almost tempting to pull her into a hug, but you managed to keep your composure. 

“I wanted to do something a little more special than just some sorta interview, though, because you ask me questions all the time anyways,” Poppy said. “Granpa said you’ve never been to the Omega Timeline before, so I wanna give you the big tour!” Poppy went to the door. “I’m gonna be outside when you’re ready!” She left the room.

Seeing the empty room in front of you, you were tempted to snoop again, but you’d learned your lesson after last time. You headed straight out after Poppy.

You couldn’t help but gasp in awe of the serenity of the great outdoors as you were beckoned to it. You’d been outside before, obviously, but everything just looked so… nice. The blue sky, the grassy grounds, the ornate buildings… you’ve seen this place in pixel art and a couple drawings before, but seeing it with your own eyes was another story. And the next thing for you to nearly faint at was seeing the Undertale characters running around, Sanses, Undynes, Frisks, even goat moms. 

Poppy smiled. “...It’s nice, isn’t it? I KNEW taking you on a tour was a good idea.” She smirked. “Now remember, just because this is a meet-up doesn’t mean it’s free, and there WILL be a fee at the end of our ride.”

“...Uh… I left my wallet at home,” you said, patting your pockets, “And I don’t have any, uh... ‘G,’ I think. Unless the G stands for ‘Gratitude,’ amiright?” you did finger guns.

“G stands for Gold,” Poppy corrected you bluntly, unamused. She returned to her chipper attitude just as quickly, though. “Now, let me show you around!” She led you down the street. 

Walking with her, seeing so many versions of your favorite characters in the flesh, walking around… well, the temptation to talk to SOME of them was irresistible, Core be damned. You did resolve not to go too far off-track, but you shared some words with the folks you passed by, Poppy thankfully stopping each time you did. You met two Frisks - one boy, one ambiguous - an Underswap Undyne, a human version of Toriel, and surprisingly, a version of Princess Peach.

You and Poppy approached an elegant fountain, stood upon proudly by a statue of a mustachio’d CORE!Frisk. “This is the Timeline Plaza! It’s sort of the local park, where people meet up to do... stuff. Just hang out. Make a picnic. Play ball. All that good park-y stuff, y’know? And there’s stores in all directions, so it’s pretty good.” She proudly showed off her home to you, with a smile.

You talked to more on the way to the next place. An Inverted Fate Papyrus. A weird Ralsei who said his name was “Noyno.” An Asgore wearing a hoodie, who you assumed was swapped with Sans. (Poppy did scold you a little bit for this, telling you that just because someone has a hoodie you shouldn’t assume they’re swapped. You apologized.)

“This is Grillby’s! One of them, anyways. The nearest one to my house. It’s pretty good if you want an OK burger. Sanses love the place, though. It’s… kind of unhealthy. And a little gross.” Poppy said. “Especially when they just drink… raw… ketchup.”

“Can’t handle a little ketchup?” you smiled mischievously. “We drink it by the gallon back in my universe,” you lied.

“...I really hope you’re joking,” Poppy said, alarmed.

“Am I?” you smiled brighter.

“...W-well, we’re not going in there, so you can FORGET about drinking that much ketchup!” Poppy said, afraid of the sheer power of your ketchup-drinking.

You and Poppy moved onto the next spot. You met an Underswap Alphys who seemed to be trapped in a red-and-gold palette. You met a robot dressed as a circus ringmaster, who claimed to be a Chara. You met a Dummy dressed in a Frisk shirt. (You didn’t assume it was swapped with Frisk this time, which turned out to be a mistake, because it was.) Poppy stared at you awkwardly now, wondering why you were talking to all these random strangers. Finally, you and Poppy reached your next destination.

“The theater! Where we show off all the greatest hits! Including MY movie, which, not to brag, but it’s--”

Except, you’d been distracted by a hyperdeath Asriel, and were ignoring Poppy for the moment.

“...” Poppy spoke up. “That’s what I don’t get about you.”

“Huh?” that seemed to wake you up, and you looked at her. 

“Everytime it’s always, ‘have you met Underswap Sans,’ or ‘have you met JangoTale Frisk,’ or some other weird thing. You always ask that. But… they’re just people. Why do you always assume I know some random Sans or Frisk or someone?”

“I…” you were a bit taken aback. “...I don’t… we don’t assume you know them, they’re just… they’re just important.” 

“Important?” She asked. “...I-I mean, yeah, EVERYONE’s important, but, I don’t really get what you mean…”

“They’re all--” You paused, trying to collect your thoughts, think of everything you knew from the blog, and tried to actually talk to her. “...They’re like friends to me. Kinda.”

“...You guys are friends with them? I thought you were stuck in your world…” she frowned.

“No, it’s like-- I’m not ‘friends’ with Underswap Frisk, or-- or Storyshift Frisk, or Shifty or whatever, I’m just friends with… Frisk.”

...Poppy stared at you like you just said the ground was turning to jelly, or something equally bafflingly inane. “...I… think you’re confused. Look, sometimes newcomers struggle with this. Your Frisk isn’t the only Frisk--”

“I know! It’s… You don’t get it. This world, these worlds are so special and creative, and they mean a lot to me. I know we can be really edgy, and I know we ask weird questions about Dusted and Rust, but that’s all because… because...” you paused.

Poppy looked, seeming upset about hearing her siblings mentioned in the context of ‘edgy’ questions, not seeing what you were seeing. Core, standing behind her, holding up a hand signal.

The number two.

You were getting carried away. You overstepped.

“...Um… I’m sorry.” You pulled her into a hug as Core vanished. “There’s really no reason for us to ask those questions. We can just be dumb sometimes.”

“...” She hugged back. “Yeah, it’s okay. I knew you guys were super weird and dumb before I convinced Granpa to let you in here, so I guess I should’ve seen this coming,” Poppy smiled, regaining her confidence as you did your best to not be offended at being called weird and dumb.

“Okay! I think I have just one last stop in mind to cap this tour off on a high note! Literally, hehehe…” She giggled mischievously. This time, you didn’t stop to talk to others, following her directly as you approached a peak overlooking the town. For yet another time, and probably the last, you couldn’t help but ogle at the town’s beauty. “Pretty good, right?” She sat down.

“Ha… with all the climbing, I was worried we’d fall down a mountain,” you joked. Poppy seemed to roll her eyes, as you sat beside her. “...I guess I get how you can call this place home. I mean, once I stop nerding out, anyways. You don’t see stuff like this in my… reality.”

“Just gallons and gallons of ketchup, huh?” she commented. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yeah.”

And you two just stared into the distance for a while. ...She wasn’t just a character. She was a human being.

...Or, technically just a ‘being,’ scratch the human part. Still, you felt a bit desensitized to all this. And so did she. You related in that way.

“I can’t say you exactly passed with flying colors, but you fulfilled your end of the agreement well enough.”

Without any warning, you were back in a white void with CORE!Frisk, just like before. You almost forgot about the deal you made, what with all the time you spent with Poppy. You stood.

“Uh… yeah. So, my reward…” you drifted off, remembering the offer Core gave you. The chance to meet just about any AU character of your imagining… or at least, any that would be peaceful enough to be in the Omega Timeline. Which still left a WIDE variety of options…

Who did you want to see? What mattered most to you?

...

Thinking deeply… you told Core their name.

“...Oh. Really? Well, I guess it makes sense for you that you’d want to see them,” Core remarked. “I can’t guarantee they’ll give you what you’re looking for, but a deal’s a deal. Let’s head off.”

You and Core went somewhere else.

---

And that’s all she wrote! If you read this far, thank you. Working on the game since then has been fun, and I think you’ll like what we have in store. Until then, ciao.

[transsexualbloodlust]

Shrek and SPN an analysis

okay i said i would do a shrek and dean arch analysis and i’m here to deliver

before we ~get into it~ i’d like to say that this started out as being based on my head canon that dean likes the first shrek movie and the musical (secretly) but instead it just became it’s own analysis of the parallels, I will be doing a very short explanation of why i think that after this.

okay let’s do the obvious parts: the both have layers, and they r both bisexual and homophobic (i will not take criticism on this i’m right and u know it)

in regards to the layers:

In the shrek musical we get to see shrek’s childhood and back story. The basic summary is that on his 10th birthday his family abandons him and tells him he has to raise himself, that society will never accept him so he needs to “build a wall” (emotional) and find somewhere no one can get to him (emotional and literal). Shrek grows up knowing he is hated by society and although he doesn’t try to outright conform his choice of being the monster everyone wants him to be and living alone was conforming in itself, we learn later in the movie that shrek is lonely and wants friends but is afraid of vulnerability and how people view him. Now I’m sure we’ve all read a million and one essays on Dean’s personality but you’ll be reading one more. Dean also gets metaphorically thrown out, especially emotionally, by his father and is forced to fend for himself, except (and this is why shrek and dean’s personalities r so different) dean has sam and is forced to raise him. (dean is the woman coded version of this arch and shrek is the man coded version, once again i take no criticism). Dean is forced to live on the outskirts of society, constantly hopping schools, knowing about monsters and hunting, and he embraces that role as a form of protection for himself. This of course mixes with the way J*hn villanises dean to himself, he’s verbally abusive (and almost definitely physically) and holds dean to such a high standard he can never see himself as good enough. Not to mention how his bisexuality is likely seen as something disgusting. So in order to save himself he embraces that roll that his father has layed out for him, to the point where (like shrek and his roar) is very much a performance.

okay so how are the plots similar/something dean can relate to??

well dean and shrek both exist within the outskirts of society, never really wanting to enter and seemingly content with the performance they give. However (in very different ways) their ability to uphold the performance is tested and they embark and a journey to be able to go back to normal life. Shrek has to deal with the fairy tale creatures, and Dean has to save his father. (I genuinly think a lot of deans dependency on j*hn had to do with how much he based his identity on the man, and even though he does care about him and wanted to save him, his dependence on john and inability to recognize the abuse was a part of the performance he had to uphold). They then both get side characters , both Sam (no he’s not the main character stfu) and Cas for dean, and donkey for shrek. Who push them emotionally and force them to explore the possibility of life outside of that performance. They then both assume the roll of heros, something that their self image never truly allowed for. And when they get back to their old lives/rolls they realize it’s not something they truly want anymore, and that maybe it never was. Deans is much more subtle because he always feels the obligation to continue being a hunter wich is so heavily tied to the imagine J*hn projected on to him that he couldn’t move away as quickly as shrek did. But we start to see it in season 10. Then we ofc get to see the parallels between the love confessions. 😀😐

Okay so there’s the obvious “oh no they hate me what will i do” nature to both shrek/fiona and deancas but there’s literally so much more holy shit.

Cas/Fiona parallels:

The way Cas and Fiona r similar has a lot less to do with backstories and more to do with the essence of their arch’s, how they’re used, and how they’re coded. Cas and Fiona have Very different lives, however they where both agencies of the status quo. Fiona wants to be this maiden in her tower and be saved, and she actively reinforces that by following the ideas of a fairy tale even though she truly doesn’t understand the purpose of what she’s going through. Cas on the other hand is an actual soldier of god, he actively fights to uphold the bible and bring about heaven winning, he works to reinforce heavens power. However both he and fiona don’t fit the model of their stories perfectly and in doing so r rebelling against the story. Fiona is Quircky TM, and a whole ogre, she doesn’t fit into the basic model of her story and the fact that she’s different is what causes her to rebel against the story. Her very existence is what caused her to question the narrative. Cas’s very existence defies the narrative because he, unlike most angels, cares about humanity (dean, like humans but mainly dean). He is supposed to be an unfeeling soldier of the lord but instead he ends up being gay for a repressed kansas boy which throws a cog in the narrative he’s supposed to play out and causes him to question it. And on top of that their personality is what pushes their love interest to confront the parts of themselves they aren’t really willing to embarrass. Dean being bi and Shrek being an ogre. 

Okay so the actual confession parallels:

Obviously they are different, for one shrek is canon reciprocated in all countries (that i know of). But thematically?? what the characters r saying to eachother?? girl i’m loosing it.

Shrek is about accepting ones self as who u truly are and recognizing that that doesn’t need to be changed for u to be lovable. And Cas’ speech does exactly that, it tells dean that even though he views himself as a monster who’s driven by hate, even though he see’s him as his enemies do (think shrek seeing himself through the townsfolks eyes) he is actually driven by love and that he, without changing, is lovable in every sense of the word. More than that he’s lovable by what common society would consider to be the Ideal (angels being like 🤩 and princesses being 🤩). In this confession of love Dean/Shrek r moved to accept themselves as they are, Shrek in the moment and Dean later when he doesn’t kill chuck. And their loved one has their final closure to their story. Fiona is forced to accept herself as an ogre as well and Cas shows that he’s, like Dean, fundamentally driven by love even though he was told he shouldn’t be.

This is where we once again see the whole “dean and shrek have the same arch but dean’s is woman coded” thing which I will be getting into in a separate essay. But the basic idea is that Shrek comes to the realization partially on his own and gets final validation from Fiona where as Dean gets confessed to. 

Then after the initial confession both lovers are pulled apart, deancas have the empty, and shrek/fiona are briefly pulled apart by lord farquad. In both instances the characters are punished for the fact that they’re in love. HOWEVER shrek understands good story telling and has the lovers come back together.

And then ofc both Fiona and Cas get enveloped :D (Cas in goop and Fiona in light)

But this where we get into the exploring where Supernatural’s narrative SHOULD have gone, (as shown in shrek):

After the love confession we finally get to see Shrek realize that he isn’t the monster society painted him as and that that requires absolutely no change on shreks part, he’s accepted himself and realized that he can tear his walls down. Dean goes through the tearing down of walls much slower throughout the seasons, because Dean has the woman coded version of this narrative he already understands found family but he doesn’t understand that he is worthy of his family’s love in return. 

So in Shrek we see shrek live out his life with his found family, he’s had his arch he understands his worth and he realizes that he doesn’t want to be alone. Now as a finale denialist I will not be talking about what happens in the finale but we’ve all seen it and you know how supernatural doesn’t follow through.

This was so much fun i will be doing more later but I hope y’all enjoyed this <3

[jksangelic]

heaven’s winter (m)

RATING: M

GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst

PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)

WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot. 

also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.

SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

WORD COUNT: 18,600

NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!

it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!

(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)

((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))

(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))

((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier​ get to work.))))

Part One

The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.

“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.

“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.

Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”

You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.

You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”

You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”

“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”

“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”

“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.

“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”

You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.

“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.

You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”

“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.

You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.

“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.

The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.

In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.

“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”

“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”

Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.

You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”

He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”

Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.

You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.

His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”

It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.

What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.

A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.  

You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.

 Part Two

It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.

"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.

“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.

You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.

“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.

“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”

Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.

“Good luck!”

“Watch your surroundings, little one.”

“Come home and don’t wander off!”

You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.

When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.

“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.

“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”

You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”

You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”

She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”

“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”

You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.

“Taehyung…”

“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.

“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”

You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.

You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.

 Part Three

Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.

You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak. 

You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.

Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.

You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.

And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.

It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.

But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.

You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.

It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.

"Don't dilly-dally!"

"Come straight home."

"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."

Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.

So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.

When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.

The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.

Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.

You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...

But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.

Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.

All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.

Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.

You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.

The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.

These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.

“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.

So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.

The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.

More howls from them, more cries from you.

You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.  

Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.

It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.

The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.

The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.

It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.

 And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.

 Part Four

Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.

Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.

It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.

The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.

Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.

He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.

He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…

You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—

“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.

“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.

Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.

“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.

“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”

It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.

The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”

At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.

“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”

“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.

His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.

“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.

“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.

You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”

“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”

You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.

 Part Five

You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?

Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.

There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.

“Ah, human. You’re awake.”

You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.

“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”

You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”

He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”

The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”

It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”

You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.

You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”

Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."

Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"

"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.

"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."

You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...

"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"

Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."

That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.

In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.

“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.

He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.

Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”

And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”

Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.

He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”

 Part Six

 It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.

Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.

That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.

Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.

Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).

You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.

You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.

Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.

❋

Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.

"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.

"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.

"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."

It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.

"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"

"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."

You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"

"Because I was hurt."

"How were you hurt?"

"Next question."

"What are you reading?"

"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."

"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.

Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"

You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."

His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."

"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.

"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."

And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.

"Nothing is more important than the things you want."

 Part Seven

 After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.

It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.

One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.

You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.

Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.

You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?

Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"

No reply.

You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"

Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.

As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.

You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.

Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.

A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.

And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.

"What were you doing, human?"

Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.

Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"

His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.

"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"

Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.

You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"

"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.

Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.

"Leave." So you do.

 Part Eight

 You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.

Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.

Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.

You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.

Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.

You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.

You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.

"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."

You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.

"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.

"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"

He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"

Confused, you nod.

"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."

You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."

You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.

His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."

Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."

Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.

"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"

You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"

Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.

In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.

You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.

Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.

 Part Nine

The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.

The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.

In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.

“That was a horrible shot,” he said.

The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”

“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”

You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.

“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.

“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.

“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”

“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”

“Watch this.”

Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.

“Shoot.”

And it landed perfectly.

He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.

❋

A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.

"Do you like storms?" You asked.

"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"

"I like when there's thunder and lightning."

Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.

He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."

It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.

Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.

"Yoongi..."

"Yes?"

"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."

"That's wrong but that's me."

"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"

"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"

You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"

"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.

Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.

"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.

When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.

In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."

"Alright, time for bed."

You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.

❋

You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.

Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.

He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.

The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.

Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”

“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”

“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.

Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”

His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.

“You must miss him then.”

“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.

You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.

“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”

You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.

“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.

“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”

“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”

“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”

“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”

“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”

And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”

He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”

Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”

“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”

“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”

Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.

“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”

Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”

So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.

“Do you love him?”

“W-What?

“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”

You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”

A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.

Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.

“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”

You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.

Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.

Part Ten

On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?

You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.

❋

You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.

He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.

Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.

Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.

You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.

Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.

 Final Part

 You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.

The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.

“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.

“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”

If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.

“Would you like to join me?”

He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”

“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.

“Your family will be so happy to see you.”

You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.

“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.

Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.

Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”

At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”

He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”

And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.

You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one. 

But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.

You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.

“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”

Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.

It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.

“No.”

“Why don’t you ask for more.”

“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”

He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”

“No.”

“Is it him? Taehyung?”

Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.

He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”

You don’t waver, “No.”

A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.

You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.

“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.

He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.

“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.

“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”

“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”

His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”

The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”

The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.

“My love, look at me.”

His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.

Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”

“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”

He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.

“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.

He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”

He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.

“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.

Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Let’s talk about it after?”

“Mmm.”

He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.

He admits, “I like when you touch me.”

“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”

“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”

So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.

“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”

He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”

You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”

That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.

“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.

The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.

“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”

“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”

“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.

“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”

“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.

“Yoongi!”

“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”

Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.

“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.

You whimper, begging for mercy.

“Look. At. Me.”

Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it. 

He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.

“How do you feel, lovely?”

You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.

Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.

“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”

“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”

His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”

Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.

Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.

“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.

“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.

He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”

Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.

“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”

“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.

“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.

“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.

“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.

“Now you’re just bragging!”

“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.

The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.

“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”

“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”

“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.

“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.

He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”

Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”

Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”

Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”

“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”

His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”

“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.

“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.

“Is this better, Y/N?”

“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”

His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.

Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”

His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”

The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.

Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”

“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”

Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.

The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.

You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.

“A lot,” you complain.

“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”

Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“I need to go home tomorrow.”

His heart sinks, “Oh?”

“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”

“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.

“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”

Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah. And Yoongi?”

He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”

“More than anything.”

He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.

“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.

Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.

Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.

a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.

❋ masterlist ❋

[a-little-slice-of-fandom]

A) hi how ya doing? B) I miss you C) can you analyze anything of Aragon? Thank you :)

Hey anon! I’m doing good ❤️❤️❤️ thanks so much for asking! I hope you’re doing well too!

Aragon is really interesting to me, because her song is kind of like the bohemian rhapsody of six. Very few people will say that it’s their favourite, but everyone will instantly sing along because it’s so catchy! Plus, it’s a great song to follow ex-wives with. It keeps the energy up and introduces the audience to the plot of the show.

I will say this until the day I die: while I would love if more songs were as scathing as say AYWD...you could never start with those songs. It’s too much too quickly. You need the more catchy, light-hearted songs of Ex-Wives, No Way and DLUH to start with because it helps get the audience invested in the show and the plot as a whole. Six, first and foremost, will always need to work dramatically. That’s why the old, more openly bitter No Way was changed to something a little more light-hearted.

The first thing that always comes to mind when I think of Aragon is regal. She’s the queen who was married to Henry for 24 years and was a Spanish princess as well. She’s the refined, confident queen who knows her own worth and honestly? I get the vibe she just wants a little bit of respect from the other queens. While some people characterise Aragon as rather cold, I honestly don’t get that? The show portrays Aragon as a very loyal person despite all that Henry put her through, and she clearly cares for Mary and also, to a lesser extent, Parr as her god daughter (remember she calls Howard “the least relevant Katherine”...meaning she does see Parr as relevant.) and she often refers to other queens as “babe” even though she was just arguing with them five seconds earlier (harking on the idea of forgiveness, something I think Aragon is very good at in the show!). Plus, while there’s only one line referring to Mary, Aragon is always so protective of her and warm to her. In the album, Renee’s “aw, hi baby!” is the most adorable and heartwarming part of the song and it’s clear she adores her daughter, while the “oh, you don’t remember?” in the live versions is so protective of her baby. It’s honestly something we don’t discuss enough. Moreover, Aragon’s song is one of the most energetic, but she has her earnest moment of pleading as well, along with her undisputable strength of refusing to back down and accept Henry’s lies. She is also incredibly passionate when talking about something she loves or defending herself when she has to (which make sense! This was the woman who rode with an army wearing armour while pregnant. Aragon was not to be messed with!).

I personally disagree with people who try and claim that Toby and Lucy wrote Aragon as the “angry” queen because she never truly gets to the levels of boleyn or seymour (yes there’s the miscarriage argument where she does raise her voice but like...are we ignoring Seymour’s “boohoo Mary had the chickenpox” or the fact that Boleyn is also shouting in that argument??? And she usually goes louder than Aragon???) and yet she’s so often defined by that trait even though other queens share it and are even more extreme. And yes, Im fully aware of why certain people characterise aragon in this way and I’m so annoyed that even though we continually call out the fact that’s it’s problematic, it continues to happen. However Aragon does have flaws like every good character should. Aragon just won’t try and listen to the other queens. She refuses to accept that Boleyn or Seymour might have had a worse time than her. Now I personally never got the feeling that Aragon blames the other queens for anything. Her feelings are directed at Henry. Notice in now way she talks about how henry is “running around with some pretty young thing” and she refers to him having “one son with someone who don’t own a wedding ring”. Those people? They’re clearly supposed to be Boleyn and Bessie, two people who are actually on stage at the time. But Aragon doesn’t take an easy shot at either of them in her song. She doesn’t say their name or call them out or try and involve them in her song. Contrast this with DLUH where Boleyn grabs Aragon, forces her to be front and centre in this verse and then insults her constantly (“three in the bed” = airing Aragon’s and Henry’s ✨ intimate issues ✨ with the entire world while “Don’t be bitter, cause I’m fitter” and “he doesn’t want to bang you, somebody hang you” are both pretty self explanatory). I think it’s absolutely key that Aragon doesn’t blame Boleyn or Bessie or direct any misplaced feelings towards them in no way or the show. Her (very justified) feelings of anger and betrayal are (generally) directed at Henry. And that’s something so many people ignore! And I personally wish more people would be like Aragon in this regard in the real world. I don’t know if other people agree with me, but it’s your boyfriends/husbands job to not cheat on you, not someone else’s. I do know some people think that Aragon is slighting Boleyn and Bessie in that verse but if we’re sticking to tudor ideals, Aragon not mentioning them by name (in essence keeping their “dignity” and “honour” intact) would be the kinder thing to to. (Note I’m only saying this with Tudor ideals in mind. I also think Aragon fully knows that Bessie was 13 when Henry started making advances on her and again, refuses to blame Bessie for what happened because she knows she’s a victim).

However...Aragon doesn’t ever try and listen to other queens and will insult them if she has to. She (along with the other queens like Boleyn and Seymour) gets more and more defensive and petty as the show continues. However, she never gets to the same levels of hard hitting insults has say Boleyn. But I mean...Aragon was a queen who went through so much in her lifetime and never was able to really talk about it. Yes, she resisted Henry trying to get their marriage annulled, and she was one of the strongest women at the time, but she couldn’t deal with her emotions the same way that we can today. She never got to told Boleyn to go away or leave her alone. She never got to bad mouth Henry because he was the king. She was, first and foremost, a lady, and she was expected to act in a certain way all of her life. And now that she’s reincarnated in modern days, she doesn’t have to do all of those things. She can be annoyed and let it show, she can tell Boleyn all those things she wanted to do back in the day. Some actresses even lean into the idea that it’s sort of cathartic for Aragon to FINALLY just say what she wants to say without having to worry on how it would reflect on her as queen. Mind you, I still think that Aragon considers how her words would reflect on her (much more than any other queen) but she definitely has more wiggle room within the show than she did during her reign.

In addition, while the fandom also like to reduce Aragon to obsessed with her religion, I actually really like how her relationship with Catholicism is portrayed in the show. While I do concede that Aragon’s faith is sometimes reduced to the butt of the joke, that’s not always the case and I personally really enjoy how Aragon seems to gain a lot of strength from her religion, instead of it holding her back or hindering her. While I do understand why so many characters in media struggle with their religion or find it suffocating (my relationship with Catholicism is...fragile at the best of times), but I genuinely love this idea that Aragon’s faith is what guides her and gives her inner strength in times of need. I mean,,,when she’s pleading to Henry during now way, the music slows to something that sounds more like a gospel song, Aragon is kneeling with her hands clasped and there's bright white light around her (i also vaguely remember something that looks like a crucifix behind her as well? But I'm not 100 percent sure on that). At the time where Aragon is most vulnerable and needs to find inner strength and wants guidance...she turns to her religion and that's seen as a very positive thing!!! The same with Aragon's verse in Sox. Moving to a nunnery and finding friends there is something that's now postive and liberating instead of being stuffy and boring and restrictive like nunnery are often portrayed as in media. (yes I know that's also a play on Henry wanting to send Aragon into the nunnery after their divorce but I do think that there’s no malicious religion-basing in Six is a nice touch that’s often overlooked).

Finally, Aragon’s costume is quite important to her character. It is one of the more feminine outlines (especially the updated version on broadway) and I do think it’s an inadvertent issue that the queens with the more stereotypical feminine costumes are more catty whereas the more stereotypical androgynous or masculine outfits (aka Parr and Cleves) are often the voices of reason, but I don’t think that’s intentional or is intended to comment on anything. It’s just a coincidence. However, the gold of Aragon’s outfit obviously symbolises her love, courage and passion, along with indicating her status as a noble. While yes the rest of the queens were all noble in some way before they married Henry, Aragon was a Spanish princess and the daughter of two incredibly powerful monarchs. She was probably the highest standing out of any of the queens, and her costume reflects that. I also think that her wearing gold to flaunt her status could be her trying to make up for the years between her marriages to Arthur and Henry (where she didn’t have many provisions made for her as far as I know) and also the last few years of her life. (I’ve seen differing reports on how Aragon was provided for after Henry divorced her, with her claiming that she was living in poverty while others state she got 3000 pounds. If anyone has any confirmation then let me know). Either way, her wanting to flaunt her status after her reincarnation by wearing lots of bright gold makes total sense. I’ve also seen a few people say that the bust on Aragon’s costume is the most historically accurate but I can’t confirm that, although if it is then that’s a really nice touch.

Well this took ages, but it was fun to finally get to analyse stuff again AND do it on a queen who doesn’t get discussed very much!!! Aragon often gets reduced to “catholic” or “angry” within this fandom, even though she is just as complex as any other character within the show but she just expresses things in very different ways. And that’s okay! This whole show is about how women (and NB folk!) are different and do have different experiences and do express things differently and have different personalities and that’s okay! We should celebrate our differences.

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

The Princess Bride: Facets of Film

Movie-making is a tough and complicated business.  Once you have a studio sold on your pitch and script, there’s changes to be made, casting to be done, lighting choices, changes to the script, sets to find, costumes to make, special effects to prepare, more changes to the script, camera set-up, studio supervision, and then, possibly, more changes to the script.

In a business populated by that many people all working on the same project, every film is a minor miracle that it got made at all.  

As you may have gathered, making a movie is a huge undertaking.  There’s a lot that goes into it: cameras, music, sets, special effects, costumes, and more, managed by a lot of people who are very good at their jobs.  All of these little elements, which don’t seem that important on their own, all go into piecing together a coherent narrative in a way that makes sense, and looks good, to an audience.  

These elements, cinematography, lighting, costuming, special effects, etc., are the elements that can catch the attention of an audience, taking a ‘good’ film, and turning it into a ‘great’ film, thanks to the powers of movie magic.

See, movies are a very visual medium.  You can have a good story and characters in a book, but you have to imagine what it looks like as it moves along.  In a film, you have to watch what someone else made up.  This can be either an advantage or a disadvantage, and the difference is made entirely thanks to production design.  These ‘facets of film’, the trimmings that make a movie a movie, are vital to visual storytelling, enabling casual movie-goers to interpret what the framing of some scenes is trying to tell them.

Most audience members subconsciously internalize things like thematic costume changes, or a musical cue, without putting thought into figuring out what exactly was getting that point across.  The point is, these ‘facets of film’ are not only for filmmakers or movie critics to think about and fawn over: This storytelling shorthand is an important tool that gives the audience all of the information they need to have, without spelling it all out in dialogue.  Westley as the Dread Pirate Roberts wears all black as visual shorthand that he is dangerous, Humperdinck wears fine clothes to establish status and style, even Buttercup, whose clothing is plain when she is with Westley and uncomfortably bedecked when she is with Humperdinck, is dressed in a way that conveys something to the audience.

In other words, it’s very useful.

A good director knows to use these aspects of ‘storytelling shorthand’ well, as opposed to competently.  Too often, directors can decide to focus the production crew, and the movie itself, in the wrong place, attempting to garner praise for production design rather than substance.

There’s nothing wrong with looking good and being a well-done movie from a technical standpoint, but the balance is necessary.  A good director knows that visual storytelling accentuates its story, rather than overshadows it, intended to get the plot across in the most effective way possible, focusing on what is important: the story and characters.

Much like The Princess Bride does.

The Princess Bride isn’t exactly a blockbuster-style film.  There isn’t a huge budget spent on special effects or huge setpieces, but what is in there is done so with a remarkable touch.  Every inch of this film is designed to look like it takes place in a fairy-tale story, not exactly ‘real locations’, but looking like pictures you’d find in a story book.  That extends to the camerawork.

Camerawork is a pretty big deal in film for obvious reasons.  

The way a director uses a camera can tell the audience a lot, using some shots to emphasize different emotions, or even to get across different feelings to the audience.  Filmmakers use editing of these shots together to tell the story, to move the audience’s line of vision so that it is always centered on the action while also helping to set the mood or leave a visual impression on the audience.

So, does The Princess Bride manage that?

Most of the camerawork in The Princess Bride is fairly standard stuff, wide-shots for action, close-ups for dialogue or emotion, establishing shots for a new location, etc.  However, there are a handful of tricks that are notable: natural lighting used in the shots to make them feel open, spacious, and real, contrasting with artificial levels of darkness in the Fire Swamp, or the upwards-facing shot of Fezzik’s impersonation of the Dread Pirate Roberts, seeming to increase his size and formidability.  Other shots, like the coming-into-focus of Westley rising to point his sword at Humperdinck, are equally effective, in uses of ‘subjective camera’.  There are other, more traditional examples: shots of Buttercup’s abduction from above to make her seem even smaller, and establishing ‘relationship’ shots of people on the same level in the same frame, such as the sunset-lit kiss sequences bookending the film.  Even the editing, while being mostly standard, is given a few moments to shine, such as when the Grandfather is trying to find his place in the story after interrupting to make sure the Grandson isn’t frightened by the Shrieking Eels.  

Still, overall, it’s a fairly simple film in terms of visual style.  The cinematography is aimed at one goal: creating a charming, warm, comforting atmosphere that translates well and correctly conveys the mood of the audience.

This is even more so aided by the film’s score.

It’s fairly obvious that a movie’s soundtrack is integral to its success: a good movie can be elevated to iconic levels thanks to a good score (i.e. Jaws, Psycho, Star Wars, etc.).  In other cases, music can be passable, serviceable, without being bad or fantastic.

In the case of The Princess Bride, the score is….interesting, to say the least.  Instead of a traditional ‘fantasy’ score, the soundtrack was composed by Mark Knopfler, the front guitarist for the band Dire Straits (Money for Nothing, Walk of Life), using synthesizers and acoustic guitars to get the sound of the film.  The score, especially both the instrumental and vocal covers of ‘Storybook Love’ (sung by Willy DeVille) is memorable, overall, if nothing to write home about.  The soundtrack does what it is intended to do: set the scene, notably in the scene ‘The Chatty Duelists’, where Inigo and Westley fight to the stings of the music.  The music overall accentuates the grand, sweeping visuals as well as the tense, exciting sequences, keeping the audience in the story very well.

Speaking of grand, sweeping visuals:

The sets of The Princess Bride overall aren’t really ‘sets’ at all.  The ‘Cliffs of Insanity’ were in actuality the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland, and even Humperdinck’s castle was actually a real medieval manor house.  From Miracle Max’s shack to the Fire Swamp, to Rugen’s torture chamber, the rest of the settings of The Princess Bride do their job very well, creating a fantastical atmosphere that serves the story admirably.  These aren’t the vivid, magical sets of The Wizard of Oz, designed to create an atmosphere of dreamlike fantasy, rather, the settings of The Princess Bride are more intended to create a feeling of Magical Realism, that it is a storybook, but that the locations look and feel familiar and realistic.  This is helped somewhat by the fact that the film itself doesn’t rely on special effects much at all: aside from the Shrieking Eels and the (rather unrealistic looking) ROUSes (saved by the storybook feel of the entire film), there aren’t any real fantasy-specific special effects that other films might utilize.

There’s more to an immersive movie experience than sets, costumes and music, though.  In the end, no matter how impressive, the special effects, sets and costumes don’t really mean anything if the characters aren’t believable.  The movie really rests on the shoulders of the performers: it’s on the actors to try to sell not only their surroundings and story, but the characters themselves, everything from the personality to the emotions.  

In the case of The Princess Bride?

Cary Elwes’s performance as Westley is lighthearted, emotional, and extremely sincere.  He’s charismatic, charming, and makes you believe that he’s exactly as skilled as the story needs him to be.  He also manages to convince an entire audience of the genuine love he has for Buttercup, and is distinct as both his Westley persona and his ‘Dread Pirate Roberts’ persona.  In other words, he’s perfect.

Cary Elwes balances the ‘indestructibility’ that most protagonists seem to possess, seemingly in control of dire situations, as well as the vulnerability necessary for an audience’s sympathy and concern for his well-being, for his goal.  In other words, he manages to pull off a character that seems designed for an earlier time, updating it with a sense of humor and charm that perfectly suits the rest of the film.

Robin Wright is similarly well-suited for Buttercup, as she’s written.  I’ve discussed elsewhere the potential problems presented by Buttercup’s rather uninteresting personality and role in the story, but Buttercup’s Defrosting Ice Queen tendencies are very well conveyed, especially early on.  As I mentioned in other articles, her chemistry with Elwes makes the romance element of the film convincing in the few scenes they have together.  She does a good job with the material given to her, it’s just a shame that there wasn’t more for her to do.

On the other hand, Mandy Patinkin as Inigo Montoya, despite the unconvincing accent, is inspired, with Patinkin bringing both warm humor and ice-cold vengeance and formidability to the role.  Both he and Elwes brought great physicality to their sword-fight sequences, training hard in order to do as much of their own fighting as possible, and it shows in the performances in the final product.  Inigo’s inner conflict is showcased well, with Patinkin providing both the comedic highlights as well as the intense emotional ones, especially his final duel with Rugen.  It is Inigo’s lines which tend to be the most memorable, owing a lot to Patinkin’s iconic delivery.

All three of the main trio play their parts perfectly, but they are only the chief standouts in an entire film full of them.

André René Roussimoff (better known as André the Giant) despite not being an actor in the same vein as the rest of the cast, is iconic as Fezzik.  The instant likeability present in the performance carries strongly throughout the film, with his own fair share of memorable dialogue (which, granted, nearly every member in the cast has).  His physicality isn’t really what makes him such a distinct part of the cast, rather, it’s the character’s heart and humor that makes this performance such an integral part to the film at large.

Similarly (though in the opposite direction), Wallace Shawn is a wonderful choice for Vizzini, his distinct voice and mannerisms giving the character plenty of funny dialogue without entirely removing the threat he poses.  Despite not having a lot of screen time, Shawn manages to make the role iconic instantly, with inflections that make the word ‘inconceivable’ memorable to this day.

Chris Sarandon is perfectly cast as Prince Humperdinck, playing arrogance and control that all come crashing down in the final scene.  Humperdinck is all bark and no bite, appearing confident and competent until he is met by someone who might pose a challenge.  He’s conniving, cold, and disinterested in anything other than his war, making it especially rewarding when he is defeated.

Similarly, Christopher Guest plays Count Rugen with a sophisticated coolness, never really invested in what’s going on or terribly worried about it until that ‘little Spanish brat’ comes for revenge, very well equipped to deliver it.  He plays the final duel scene notably with an increased losing of composure, cluing the audience in to his inevitable demise for the sake of vengeance.

The other characters perfectly hit their mark as well: Billy Crystal and Carol Kane are a comedic team to be reckoned with as Miracle Max and Valerie, with other special standouts including Peter Cook as the Impressive Clergymen (a scene stealer with only one appearance), and Peter Falk and Fred Savage as the Grandfather and the Grandson, respectively.

Every character in The Princess Bride comes across exactly as they should: as characters in a fairytale, fondly looked back on from a place of adulthood.  Each performance is perfectly suited to each character and the type of movie that they are in, with every performance hitting a mix of sincerity and drollness.  These performances aren’t necessarily subtle, but they aren’t supposed to be.  They are heroes and villains, giants and master swordsmen and princesses, acting out a fairy-tale that knows exactly what it is, with tonal consistency that never seeks to outdo the material the actors are given.  These performances are the final piece to cementing this film as a true classic, bringing entertainment to people decades after it’s first release.

In short, the filmmakers of The Princess Bride knew what they were doing.  Everything from the performances to the camerawork gets across every emotion and aspect of the story instantly, with the sets and costumes working to explain simply what’s going on as quickly as possible.  It’s a storybook set to film, both comforting and exciting, and the ending feels right, no matter how many times we revisit it.  

The Princess Bride has long been considered a cult classic, a hidden gem that was looked over by a public who never really knew it was there in the first place.  Even if it never reaches the high peaks of fame as other fantasy classics, it may not be a stretch to hail it as one of the greatest fantasy films (or films in general) ever made, through simple (but not simplistic) substance, if not bombastic style.  

Of course, no movie comes around accidently.  There had to be some work done behind the scenes for this film to have come about.

Join me next time as we discuss the Facets of Filmmaking: the Behind the Scenes of The Princess Bride.

Thank you guys so much for reading!  If you have something you’d like to add or say, don’t forget that the ask box is always open!  I hope to see you all in the next article.

[only-by-the-stars]

the annotated Tome of the Wild

Part five: Babes in the Wood!

- A half-moon the color of yellowed pages hung high in the sky above the figures on the ground OH LOOK IT’S THAT SAME DAMN MOON AGAIN. DESPITE THAT DAYS HAVE GONE BY AND IT DEFINITELY WOULDN’T LOOK THE SAME AT THIS POINT.

- “Idiot child. Perhaps I should've done something to make you more intelligent, instead of just transforming your body.” And here we have confirmation that it was Koume that changed her into this.

- Of course, the centerpiece of this scene is the reveal of what Midna’s been up to this whole time. In the show, the situation for Beatrice is similar: she thought that Adelaide just wanted a couple of kids to do household chores, and was fine with just turning them over to her in exchange for the item she needed to break her and her family’s curse. Until, of course, she grew to like them and have second thoughts, as Midna does here. Which of course lines up with how Midna initially thought to just use Link in TP to help herself and her people, until his actions and Zelda’s made her reconsider her disdain for the people of the world of light. Here it’s her bond with Aryll and Link that makes her hesitate to hand them over: she really likes Aryll, and after a rough start with Link they’re now getting along, and she feels a lot of sympathy for his situation with Mipha. She doesn’t want to keep them from getting home even for a little while, and when she finds out about Koume’s true intentions she draws the line, as her moral code won’t let her hurt others for her own sake and she knows Zelda wouldn’t want her to hurt anyone on her behalf either. This conflict and growth are exactly why I had an easy time casting Midna in this role, and I loved being able to write her and develop the dynamics she has with Link and Aryll.

- “Only the voice of the shadow that lurks in the woods, the king of darkness that rules the night, concerns me...” King of Darkness is one of Ganon’s titles in the series.

- “There is only his way.” A line that will be echoed by the Beast himself much later.

- “Aryll, I know!” Link froze as soon as the words were out of his mouth. We’re at the point where Link is snapping at his beloved baby sister, showing just how stressed out he is right now. He was able to relax more when Midna was around, but now her betrayal is driving him further along that path to despair I’ve been mentioning. He immediately apologizes, to his credit, but he’s still starting to crack.

- “You are in grave peril, and your fate, your very lives depend on if you heed my words or not! The Beast stalks you, seeking your fall into his grasp... but you must not allow him to capture you, you must not give in to despair!” He’s not wrong! Listen to him!

- The shadow laughed, a long, low sound that seemed to ooze up from the deepest depths of the earth where eldritch creatures slumbered, forgotten by time and the gods alike. Calamity Ganon emerges from deep beneath Hyrule Castle.

- “You forget, do you not, that your daughter's safety depends upon keeping me happy?” The first hint of the deception that the Beast is working on Rhoam.

- Aryll is now calling her frog Alfonzo, after the engineer in Spirit Tracks.

- AND THEN THERE’S NAYRU AND KOTAKE. This was one of the most FUN things I got to play with. The episode this portion is an adaptation of is probably my favorite in the show, and I had an utter blast toying with expectations here just as the show did. Maybe even more! The show leads you to believe that the character Kotake replaces is the sinister and evil one, preying on the hapless young girl that Nayru is replacing, only to yank the rug out from under you and reveal that the girl is possessed and trying to eat the brothers.

now, Nayru is from Oracle of Ages. You meet her at the beginning, whereupon she quickly becomes possessed by the evil sorceress Veran. Kotake, meanwhile, is present as a villain in OOT and a linked Oracle game, and as a friendly shopkeeper in Majora’s Mask. We just saw the villainous version of her sister at the beginning of this chapter. So... is she evil too? If you’ve never seen the show, have played OOT and MM but not the Oracle games, you probably got taken in just like a first time viewer of the show is. Only to find out too late, as does Link, that Nayru is the people-eating one, and not Kotake, who is indeed her MM self and not evil.

- Nayru laughed too, a pleasant sound reminiscent of harp strings being played. Nayru gives Link the Harp of Ages in OOA.

- Aryll has switched the frog’s name to Dr. Calip, after the NPC in BOTW who gives you the Cursed Statue shrine quest.

- “It is thanks to you that I shall finally be free to roam the outside world, after all.” DANGER DANGER, the evil spirit wants to roam free and EAT MORE PEOPLE.

- Aryll spots the danger, but mistakes it for her desire to see Link end up with Mipha and no one else. Which we all agree with, of course, but it’s not the real reason she’s uncomfortable. Link, meanwhile, is oblivious to it, at least partially because he’s sinking deeper into despair and contemplating just letting Mipha go out of his intensifying self-hatred over what he’s done to her.

- Nayru's eager whisper broke into his thoughts. He glanced up and saw her eyes gleaming with a sort of hunger as she gazed across the room at him. DANGER DANGER, SHE WANTS TO DEVOUR YOU. Again, I choose my descriptive words very deliberately.

- Eerie purple light glowed around Nayru as she hovered in the air, and her face had been twisted into something that resembled a ReDead mask. Veran’s spirit form is indeed purple, and nobody who’s ever played OOT, MM, or WW can forget the ReDeads. my favorite monster I want them back dammit

- “Link?” Aryll pressed herself against his side and clutched at his arm. “There are a lot of skeletons in here...” Remember how Aryll was so excited about digging up a single skeleton back in Ikana? Not so fun anymore.

- In the show, the whole sequence of trying to avoid being eaten was creepy, but a bit more comedic too. I leaned fully into the horror that it truly would be here, not just because I wanted to write something scary, but also because I needed something that would traumatize Link enough to push him into the breakdown he has in the woods afterwards, setting the climax of the story in motion. His feelings of failure mirror what I headcanon he must’ve been going through just before he fell in Blatchery Plain as well, the despair he would’ve felt over being unable to prevent the fall of the kingdom, the deaths of his friends (especially Mipha, who he’s grieving the most), and knowing that he’s at his limit and about to die before he can get Zelda to safety. Which is another way that the appearance of that painting in the last chapter ties in.

- Aryll’s dream sequence! OH BOY. In the show, this is an entire episode, done in the style of 1930s animation, with musical numbers and everything. That doesn’t quite translate to prose, though, so I had to change and abridge it. More interestingly, though, there’s subtle hints in the show that the dream is not real, and is intended to lure Greg, the younger brother, into the clutches of the Beast. I decided to run with that. One of the hints in the show is that the gates you see seem to be made of ivory; in Greek myth, dreams pass through one of two gates, either horn or ivory. True dreams come through the gates of horn, while false ones pass through the gates of ivory. So naturally Aryll walks through gates of ivory to reach the tower.

The tower itself is the one located in the Cloud Tops in Minish Cap. Which, here, is ruled by Princess Hilda from Link Between Worlds, who has Aryll save her kingdom from the evil Yuga. This is all a HUGE hint that this is false, a trap. Because in ALBW, Hilda was conspiring with Yuga in a desperate bid to save Lorule. And who took over Yuga’s body as part of that plan? Ganon. BAM.

- And now the frog is being called Ezlo, after the talking cap in Minish Cap.

- Link is now so deeply in despair that the dekuwood is starting to grow around him, which is what motivates Aryll to make her deal with the Beast that brings everything to its eventual conclusion.

- A dark shape emerged from the curtain of snow; it was a small, plump man with a beard that covered the entire lower half of his face, rowing a rickety little boat. His eyebrows went up as he took in the sight of Midna lifting the unconscious Link into the air with her prehensile hair. “That is one strange fish you've caught there, missy...” This is the fisherman from Link’s Awakening.

- What Midna sees in the distance is the Great Deku Tree, but I wasn’t about to reveal that just yet.

and that does it for part five!

[mothsandbutterflies13]

Shadow and Bone Pt 2

The General/The Darkling/Aleksander Morozova: I like this character. Like, a lot. It helps that he's the epitome of "Tall, Dark, and Handsome" (TDH) but Aleksander Morozozva, as a person, is so interesting. There are so many things I'd like to pick his brain on; human nature, court politics, the war with Fjerda and Shu Han, Zlatan and his independence movement, etc. As a character, I wish they had injected some more darkness into him. I get it, the show is supposed to be marketed towards a younger audience, so it's not logical to have your tall, dark heartthrob be a literal jackass with no redeemable points. I applaud the show for giving him a more human side to him, but I also wish they would be clear on which couple is endgame. B/c if Darklina is endgame, I don't think you're doing enough to sell it. And if it's not, then you're doing waaaaay too much to sell it.

Alina Starkov: I love the actress. She seems so funny and kind. Her biracial status is just an added bonus. As a character, though… let's just say, Alina might not be a Mary Sue, but she's not not one either. Let me explain. I can't say I was thrilled to hear Alina Starkov was written as biracial in the show. It just felt like they were trying to score diversity points in being able to cast Jessie Mei Li as the female lead in a major TV production. I mean, in the context of the universe of Shadow and Bone, it was fine. I guess. But we really only get one piece of dialogue wherein Alina is discriminated against by the army camp cook for her different looks (which, if we're talking different looks, Mal looks waaaay more Shu Han than Alina, but that's just my opinion) and the confrontation with the tsarista and the maid's comment about changing her eyes, but that was about it. And Botkin, who looks and sounds like a Shu Han, NEVER comments on her appearance. For some people, that's great, it means he doesn't see her any different than anyone else. However, in a country where Ravkans sometimes openly discriminate against anyone that looks Shu Han (not Fjerdan cuz they look way too similar to their southern neighbors🙄🙄), you'd think Botkin would give Alina some advice or, I don't know, impart some knowledge about their shared cultural heritage!? If you're going to portray a character as a different race than she was (implied) in the books, AND make a big deal out of it, I should think you'd at least TRY and highlight why this change was necessary or important. But, if you're not going to do that, then please don't emphasize that particular fact. Just treat her like you would if she were of Caucasian descent.

And don't give me the same-old speel about representation. As an American-born Chinese, I grew up in a predominantly white town where I only had a few classmates who looked like me. I know what it means to be discriminated against or never seeing someone who looked like me on TV or in movies. I don't like watching the animated Mulan movie because she was a Chinese princess amongst a sea of white princesses. I like her because she doesn't take shit from anyone, not even her commanding officer. However, I identified the most with Belle because we were both bookworms and saw the beauty in the written word.

As for her powers… Like I said above, I really want to see what she could do with them. Light + physics = pretty OP.

Ok, so on to some of my biggest gripes with Alina.

One. She's angry that Aleksander has kept her letters from Mal and Mal's letters from her, leading her to believe that Mal doesn't care about her. As a way to woo the heart of possibly the only girl who'll ever be your equal, definitely not the best move. But as a general in charge of an army of grisha who now has finally found the one person who could make all his wishes come true, a necessary evil. True, Aleksander is half a millennia old, you'd think he'd have learned some patience by now. Alternatively, he could just be stubborn and set in his ways because no one has been able to challenge him and he hasn't had to stop and think about the consequences of his actions in terms of the individuals it will affect in a long time. However, in terms of what he could've done (send Mal on some impossible mission that was 100% going to get him killed) (Ok, yes, so the hunt for Morozova's stag probably should've been that, but we're not here to talk about what-ifs), confiscating their letters to each other was practically not even in the top 100. So, I honestly don't get why she seemed to make a mountain out of a mole hill.

Two. Aleksander didn't disclose that he was the Black Heretic and that he was planning to get the stag to be able to control Alina and her powers. I mean… would youdivulge your deepest, darkest secret to someone you just met not even a week before? Especially when it's about something as big as this. No? Point made. As to his plans for the amplifier, it's not like he could've known what the Sun Summoner was going to be like. And this goes back to my point before, that he can't see the trees for the forest because he's used to thinking in big-picture terms and what's best for the grisha as a whole, not the individual person. If you can't predict what this nebulous person is going to be like, you might as well hold all the control in your hands so as not to leave anything up to chance. Maybe Alina just can't see the forest for the trees.

Three. The above points are why (probably, most likely) why she chose Mal over Aleksander in the finale. Oh my God, I don't even know where to start. First of all, I have it on good authority (from someone who's read the books) that Alina is never Mal's first choice (and for that rant, I suggest you read the next point below before coming back to this one) but she still chooses him. When there's a perfectly good, emotionally-available, TDH man who accepts you, boils and all, standing. RIGHT. THERE. Second, this teaches young girls a bad precedent (granted, book!Darkling was a jackass so maybe not him). Why hang onto a guy who's made it clear to you, through his actions, that he'll never see you as his #1? Why waste your time, money, affections for someone like him? He doesn't deserve it and he CERTAINLY doesn't deserve you! You should only be with someone who treats you like a princess, who makes it clear to you that you have been, are, and always will be his #1. (I'm assuming the other person is male, but you don't have to read it like that. Don't @ me.) Trust me, Zhi Hua chasing after Yong Qi in HZIII scared me enough as a child and I have no desire to go through something like that in real life.

Mal: "This is why I have such a problem with Malina as endgame! If they were endgame, why is Mal always treating her like a second choice and Alina always content with the scraps he throws at her?! At least, with Aleksander, Alina was, is, and always will be his first choice and he makes it ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY clear he thinks the world of her! I thought Aleksander was the kind of guy we were taught to grab and hold on to, not some childhood bestie who always puts you on the backburner!" That's all I have to say for this one.

Zoya: I would have liked to see some complexity in this character, other than the whole "unrequited love for the Darkling". Granted, I only saw a quarter of the show, so I don't know about later episodes.

As for the Crows, I wish I had seen more complexity and character backstory from Kaz. Jesper is amazing but, my favorite has to be Inej because she's fulfilling all my Assassin dreams!

My sister claims I'm expecting too much out of a TV show that is based on a YA fantasy novel series, and maybe I am. I just want to see a well-made fantasy TV series or movie with a great cast that has amazing acting chops, beautiful set pieces, intricate costuming, and a well-written plotline with a dash of sarcasm and wit. Is that really so hard to ask for?