#hasn’t courted anyone in like. years. and to anyone that isn’t related to him either. 🧍‍♂️

[swordmaid]

have this very specific post canon au jb in mind and it’s essentially jaime trying to woo and court her but respectfully chastely and in a way that’s befitting a noble lady but brienne thinks they’re just hanging out

[irishhills]

fragility

Eliza goes about the day in a stupor after finding out she’s on the prom court. The Class of ‘92 got together to vote on five prom princesses before they choose their queen, and she’s one of them. She’s not sure how to feel when they put that plastic tiara on her head. Two and a half years ago, she would have been desperate for it. She would have thought it was the best and only way to get noticed in all the right ways. For boys to think she was beautiful, for other girls to think she was worth talking to. So she could relate to her mother.

But now … now, she’s not sure what to feel. Everything’s happened in such a weird way. She hasn’t had a real boyfriend since Luke, and that was two years ago. But as of last month, she’s not a virgin, either. She’s not a virgin, but she hasn’t talked to the boy she slept with since the night she slept with him. She hasn’t even told anyone, except Blair, who swears she would never tell Chris, no matter how much she might want to. Two and a half years ago, Eliza thought this little plastic tiara was her ticket to love, beauty, sex … all of it. It doesn’t seem to mean much now. Just a sign that being the yearbook’s main photographer puts you at the front of people’s minds, even if you’re the one behind the camera. People want your lens to notice them, so they notice you. Even if they didn’t mean it.

She asks to go to the bathroom in the middle of fifth period, which feels like a silly thing to do. In a few months, she’ll be in college, and if she asks a professor the same question, they’ll look at her like she’s nuts. But these are the last weeks of high school, and hall passes are a necessary evil. She takes a slip of yellow paper from her teacher’s desk and wears the crown all the way down. When she gets to the bathroom, she grips the sink and stares at herself in the mirror. A real cinematic moment. Part of her expects “About a Girl” to start playing out of nowhere. Isn’t that the kind of song that would go here? Blair would know, but she wouldn’t understand the stress. The stress of a cheap tiara.

Eliza hears one of the stalls swing open. Over her shoulder, she sees Amy in the mirror, too. They politely smile at each other. It’s been a long time since they were really friends, but Eliza has never stopped loving her. She has never stopped hoping they could be friends again.

“Nice move on the prom court,” Amy says, and she really means it. Eliza can tell.

“Thanks. Sorry. I know you would have liked to be on it.”

“Eh, maybe. But homecoming court makes you ineligible, and I’m good with being homecoming queen. Don’t know how I pulled out that win.”

“Couldn’t have anything to do with you being popular and beautiful.”

Amy laughs like she doesn’t believe it, but Eliza knows she does.

“You don’t like it,” Amy says, almost out of nowhere. “Do you?”

Eliza’s heart stops.

“Don’t like what?”

“Being on the prom court. Having that kind of attention. Any of it.”

Eliza doesn’t say anything. There’s really no use in lying to Amy. After spending all of third, fourth, and fifth grade telling each other ridiculous secrets about TV star crushes, dream careers, and fantasy outfits, she knows Amy can see right through her. There is a kind of transparency that only comes from being children together. It never goes away.

“It’s just weird,” Eliza says, “to have that many people looking at me. I’m the one who’s usually looking at them, and now … I don’t know, do they expect me to take pictures of myself?”

Amy laughs a little. She shrugs, takes out a tube of lip gloss, and applies in the mirror like this is a normal conversation. Perhaps it is.

“The thing that got me,” Amy says, “was the fragility. You take off that crown, and it’s so cheap. It just … breaks without you even having to bend.”

“Did yours break?” Eliza asks. “Your homecoming crown?”

Amy shrugs again.

“I think so,” she says. “I kinda don’t remember.”

She waves goodbye and leaves without another word. Eliza still stands over the sink, and the crown still rests atop her head.

She’s not going to do anything on purpose, but she wishes it would fall off and crack in half. Just because.

(part of @nosebleedclub february challenge -- day 16!)

[esamastation]

Xerxes au snippet

The first official political overture the small desert nation of Xerxes makes towards Amestris in over fifty years is a year after the end of the Ishvalan Civil War. Though it is expected to concern the war, and the border between Amestris and Xerxes, or perhaps even Amestrian use of Alchemy in the war, is has nothing to do with the bloody conflict, or it's relation to Xerxes' famously pacifistic view on alchemy.

It is a simple, polite appeal to the Amestrian Government – an invitation for an Amestrian automail mechanic to join the Xerxesian court.

"Bit odd," Havoc mutters, after a copy of the letter has gone around the office a few times. "What do they need an automail mechanic for – isn't Xerxesian medical alchemy, like… world famous?"

"For given the value of fame, yes," Roy agrees, fingers crossed together and a thoughtful look on his face. "They say early Amestrian alchemists learned from Xerxesians. We still use a lot of their symbols in our alchemy – but if Xerxesian alchemists are world famous about anything these days, it's their reticence. No outsider has seen much about the way they go about things these days, if they even practice alchemy anymore."

Of course there are rumours, there are always rumours, and there's history – the great and wealthy kingdom of Xerxes, alchemically on top of the world and widely known for their wisdom and knowledge and the miracles they achieved… who reached too far, tried to achieve the power of gods, and got struck down by said gods for it. How accurate that is, no one knows, but it's known that some disaster hundreds of years ago devastated the kingdom, killed most of its people, and it never fully recovered. Now it's people can only barely scrape by, living in huts and caves and underground, and they don't treat with outsiders much beyond the absolutely necessary.

Beyond trade routes established to get Amestrian goods through Xerxes to Xing, there's never been much interest for Xerxes, except maybe for it's grand history and it's many ruins. It doesn't help that Xerxes, as far as anyone knows, has never really reached outside, keeping to its isolationist values – and since it has little to offer to other nations… no one reached back, either. As far as anyone knows, Xerxes hasn't advanced at all scientifically or technologically in the last hundred years.

Which makes the fact that they want specifically an automail mechanic, an craftsman of one of Amestris' most advanced technology, rather interesting, doesn't it?

"I hear they took a lot of Ishvalan refugees during the war," Fuery says – he's the one holding the letter, reading it through.

Roy hums grimly. There's that, though took in might be stretching it a bit. Xerxes didn't do much to protect its borders – there was no need, with a desert all around their kingdom. So, when Ishvalan refugees sought to escape the conflict and set out to the desert, there was nothing but the terrain itself to stop them. Who knows how many Ishvalans made it through the desert, on foot and probably hurt…

"Why'd they send this to our office?" Breda asks, casting a look at Roy.

"They sent it to Grumman who sent it to us," Roy sighs and leans back in his chair. "The Lieutenant General wants us to find a suitable mechanic and then escort them – along with the Fürher's greetings – to Xerxes. The mission isn't exactly time sensitive, but since we're in the East…"

There's probably many reasons it was thrown their way, really. Way to keep those uppity brats from East busy, easily justified with them being closest to the matter at hand. It also wasn't exactly vital as diplomatic missions go – but it was still a diplomatic mission to a foreign nation, which means that Roy would want to handle it himself instead of leaving it to any of his subordinates. Especially since it's to Xerxes – what Alchemist wouldn't give an arm and a leg for a glimpse at how Xerxesian alchemy is these days? So, it was expected that he'd go himself. Which would get him out of people's way for a while, and maybe open up a slot for someone else to be promoted to his place, depending how long it would take.

How annoying. Grumman can be one clever son of a bitch when he wants to be.

"Right," Roy says while his team exchanges looks. "I want a list of all automail mechanics of East on my desk by the end of the day – if you can figure out their feelings about Ishval and if they have any history with the Ishvalan Civil War, that'd be a plus. Get to work."

"Sir!" his team answers, and immediately get to it, Fuery and Fallman both heading out to probably check records, while Havoc fishes out a phone book and Breda gets the phone. Beside Roy, Hawkeye gives him a look.

"Should I start preparing for travel?" she asks mildly.

"If you please," Roy says, turning to his paperwork. "We'll take Breda with us."

"Understood."

-

Over the course of next two days, they list and investigate various automail shops in the east, Roy privately wincing at how many there are, and how many of them are less than a decade old. The Ishvalan Civil War had been a boon to the business, and a lot of mechanics from the south moved in to take advantage of the situation. Lots of new up and coming mechanics, cutting their teeth in on a lot of freshly traumatised soldiers.

It left a lot of them… unsuitable for a mission likely to involve Ishvalan refugees.

"Known for his Anti-Ishvalan sentiments," Breda says, crossing out another potential automail shop. "This one has a No Refugees sign on his shop front, which probably means the same thing. This one has a pretty high record of automail rejection syndrome. This one has had two patients die on the operation table…"

Roy rubs a hand over his forehead, already imagining having to reach for the Southern District to find someone sensible in Rush Valley, when Breda offers him a potential. "Rockbell Automail, in business for decades before the Ishvalan Conflict even began."

"Rockbell," Roy says, lifting his head. "Any relation to the two late Doctors Rockbell?"

"Yep. Son and daughter in law of Doctor Pinako Rockbell, the head mechanic of the shop," Breda says and lays the file on his desk. "Their daughter is currently an apprentice mechanic in the shop, too."

Roy grimaces at that, but accepts the file, leafing quickly through it. Old, well established shop, known for their skill and efficiency, with very high praise from a lot of former customers and no known record of either deaths on operation table, auto mail rejections, or any anti-Ishvalan sentiments. There is a slight issue of the head mechanic being an old woman and the only other mechanic being a young girl, but…

It's promising.

"Phone," Roy says, and Hawkeye quickly lifts it on his desk, turning it toward him so that he can dial easily.

"Rockbell Automail, Pinako Rockbell speaking," a woman's voice answers the phone promptly, her tone brisk.

"Doctor Rockbell, my name is Roy Mustang, I'm a Lieutenant Colonel from the East Area Headquarters – may I have a moment of your time?"

"Certainly," Doctor Rockbell answers, no noticeable change in her tone. "What can do for you, Lieutenant Colonel? Aside from automail, presumably."

"I am currently looking for a skilled automail mechanic to take part in a diplomatic mission, likely to involve Ishvalan refugees," Roy says. "Your shop came up as highly recommended."

"Hrm. What kind of diplomatic mission? Don't the military have their own automail mechanics?"

"There are some, but none in the Eastern Headquarters," Roy admits – probably because the East has such surplus of civilian mechanics these days. "And I'll be frank, the likely length of this mission makes it difficult to use any of our military mechanics. The mission is to Xerxes, and will likely take weeks, if not months."

"… Xerxes?" now the old woman's voice changes, growing a little incredulous.

"Yes, the Xerxes Royal Family sent the Amestrian government an appeal for a skilled automail mechanic to join their court, and I was tasked with the mission of finding one," Roy explains and leans back, turning to look out of the window while he talks. "You would be well compensated for your trouble, however long it would last."

"Is this… a permanent position? In Xerxes?" Still incredulous.

"We don't know as of yet, the treaties are yet to be drawn. You would naturally be part of the negotiations and your wishes and needs would be taken into account," Roy assures her. "I understand this is a bit much so suddenly, and I will hold it in no way against you if you refuse outright – though I am hoping that if that is the case, then perhaps you, as a well established mechanic, might be able to point me in the way of more suitable candidates…"

Honestly, with a shop as old and as well established as hers, Roy doubts very much she would take him up on the mission – she probably has a whole lot of regular clients and steady stream of income, and no need to move. But, it never hurts to ask.

The phone line is quiet for a moment as the old mechanic thinks. "I need to talk with my apprentice for a moment, can I call you back in, say, two hours?"

"Certainly," Roy agrees, and gives her his office number. "We'll be looking forward to your call."

"Right – one more thing. You said it's likely to involve Ishvalan refugees," Doctor Rockbell says. "How'd you mean?"

"We don't know for sure, the appeal didn't explain the need for a mechanic. But during the Ishvalan Civil War, many Ishvalan refugees fled to Xerxes. So we thought it safe to assume the two are connected."

"Ah," the mechanic says knowingly. "And they put a State Alchemist in charge of finding a solution."

Roy swallows. Ah. She knows about him. It's not entirely surprising, but… "They did indeed," is all he says. There's no real explanation he can give, no excuse. It is what it is."

"Hm," Doctor Rockbell answers, noncommittal. "I will call back in two hours."

And she does, accepting the mission with two conditions. The military would help her pack up her entire shop and all the materials and tools would be transported with them – which was understandable, even if it tripled the estimated convoy size. The other condition was that she was taking her eleven year old apprentice with her. Both conditions Roy readily agreed to, tasking Havoc and Fallman with her packing while the rest of the team arranged the convoy.

"Guess we're going to Xerxes then. We're going to need a lot of camels," Breda muses.

"Yes," Roy agrees and sighs. It would be a hard journey and probably a hard mission, and likely one for very little gain in the end. Still. Xerxes. His alchemy master would've killed for the opportunity. Might as well take full advantage of it, and learn whatever he can, even if it's only from broken murals on ancient ruins.

-

Hmm... not sure I’m getting Mustang’s voice right.

Edit: Also tumblr eats italics for breakfast apparently.

[yniswaifu]

The bet - 2

"Y/N!"

You turn to look at Atsumu walking towards you, stomping his feet. He had a deep frown on his face, and it could be said he was pissed. Very very pissed.

Instinctively Osamu stood in front of you, stretching out his arm to shield you. You had come to meet him before his practice began that day – since it was a weekend with no school, the volleyball team did practice the whole day, as per Kita's order.

But of course, that wasn't very helpful as Atsumu shoved his brother to the side and stood very close to you, his flaring breath fanning your face.

You were anticipating this, not going to lie.

"why did you do that?" he asks, glaring at you.

Close proximity from anyone except your boyfriend made you uncomfortable, so you step back and turn your head to the side. "that was the right thing to d–"

You got cut off and Atsumu grabs your t-shirt collar and yanks you upwards. Your feet barely touched the floor and the area around your underarms hurt from the stretched cloth. Osamu, even though confused by the whole situation, could never see his girlfriend get manhandled by anyone, let alone his own sibling. He quickly comes in between you and Atsumu, and pushes him away.

"what the heck are you doing!?" he yells. Thankfully you guys were near the empty volleyball court or there could be a crowd forming already.

"what am I doing? Ask your girlfriend what she did!" the blonde twin counter-yells.

Osamu turns to see you already staring at him. The reason you decided to meet him was to tell him about yesterday. But his brother beat you to it.

You kept quiet while Osamu waited for you to say something. Sighing, you said, "I told f/n how Atsumu started dating her because of a bet."

Osamu's eyes widened. You could see disappointment flashing through his eyes, and that made you want to cry. But you kept your stand.

"why would you do that y/n? You know Atsumu likes her for real, and we had decided we'll leave the bet thing behind us."

Now you really wanted to cry. You wanted to yell at them about the fake foundation the relationship was based on, and how unhealthy and shameful the whole situation was, but you kept quiet. Moreover, you kept quiet as the two boys stared at you for an answer, as you know saying anything will only hurt you more. Not that your boyfriend taking his brother's side in an instant hadn't already done the damage.

Rolling your eyes, you looked at Atsumu and said, "I did what I thought was right. If she broke up with you then that's not my fault." turning to Osamu you continued, "this is what I had come to tell you. So, now you know. I'll take my leave."

And with that, you left the two and returned home.

***

You spent the weekend crying every now and then. The break up with Osamu had become almost official in your head (due to the overthinking), and you knew he wouldn't want to be with a 'snitch'. How could he trust you anymore when you went ahead and announced the secret to the last person who should know about it. But no matter how much you tried to think about it, what you did felt right. You were guilty for being part of such an action, and after imagining yourself in f/n's place, you felt bad. Because if Osamu had approached you as part of a dare, you wouldn't like it at all. So It's better to let the truth out, even if means you can't be with the boy of your dreams.

The boy of your dreams...

The tears fell harder thinking how you have to stay away from Osamu now. How you couldn't talk to him. Or hug him. Or kiss him. How you won't be hearing his sweet words only reserved for you anymore. Break up sucks.

On Monday, you walked to school alone, entered the class alone, and sat alone. There was no gray haired boy to walk with you to school, or hug you before you entered the class, or spend time with you before the bell rang for the first class. It was lonely, but you had to accept the reality.

One more thing, you didn't want to face Atsumu. After what happened, Atsumu might as well kill you if he sees you again. You loved your life, and you were glad at times like this that you and them belonged to different sections.

The bell rang and you decided to focus in the class, which was both productive and a good distraction. Not that you succeeded much. But you managed till the lunch break.

Ah, time for the students to take a break.

At this time usually either you would head to Osamu's class or he will come to yours, and then you would go to the canteen together. But from now on, you're on your own. And worse, you might see them.

Dragging your feet towards the canteen, you avoided everyone the best you could, and reached early. You bought your food, and rushed out before you saw a mop of gray or blonde head. Thankfully, you were able to escape and is back in your class. I'm bringing my own lunch from tomorrow, you think.

The whole day passes just like that, with you being by yourself and going home, by yourself.

The next day you repeat the routine, feeling a little less anxious. You thought you could avoid the twins like you did the previous day, but you were forgetting about the other two boys you knew.

Halfway through your food during the break time, you see a shadow looming over you. Your hands froze as you thought Osamu was here. But you couldn't be sure. So you just kept looking down.

"where were you yesterday?" a deep voice asks you.

Wait a minute, this isn't Osamu or Atsumu.

You look up to see a pair of narrowed slanted eyes looking at you. "Suna?" you ask, bewildered. You had completely forgotten about him. Or Ginjima for that matter.

He kept staring at you, an eyebrow raised and hands in his pocket. Suna was one of the quietest person you have met. But let's not mistake his quiet demeanor with shyness. He just didn't talk a lot as it was a waste of time for him, but he also wouldn't back down from recording whenever the twins fought. He was the quiet bastard.

You stared at the fox lookalike towering over you, wondering why he came to you, and why he's standing in front of your desk. All you wanted was to finish your lunch in peace.

"well?" he asks.

Sighing, you look down at your lunchbox when you hear the chair in front of you screech and someone sitting on it. "you're talking as if you don't know what happened." you answer softly, not looking at the boy sitting in front of you.

Suna scoffed, "is that why you're avoiding everyone? Because you snitched on us and told f/n about the bet we had placed a couple of months back?"

You kept quiet. So It's clear it was discussed among the boys. Well. The more the merrier, you think.

"honestly, I had forgotten all about it."

You looked up to see Suna smiling at you. It wasn't sarcastic, or seemed to be holding any malice towards you. Why...

"not surprising. All you care about is volleyball and enjoying the fight between the Miyas." you say, a small smile coming off your own.

Suna laughs a little, before his face turns to the usual poker. "you ain't wrong..."

You suddenly felt relaxed. Somehow the anxiety of confrontation left you, seeing you're still smiling while munching on your food.

Suna stares into space while you eat, a comfortable silence between you. You weren't sure what he was thinking, but seeing his relaxed state, you guessed it was nothing about you.

"why now? Of all the time?"

Maybe you guessed too soon. There it was. Confrontation.

Gulping down the last bit, you sigh (Wow, you've been sighing a lot.). You were tired. After four months of keeping it in, and then trying to explain why you did what you did, you didn't feel like talking about it anymore.

"better late than never." you answered.

Suna's eyebrows raised at your words. It almost felt like you wanted him to solve the question himself with those words. Like, the situation was obvious enough to be understood without any explanation.

"right...but we did decide not to tell her." he retorts.

This time you scoffed at his words. What bullshit. "not tell her...sure. Let her believe Atsumu actually liked her when he pointed at her before his serve at the game, something he has never done for anyone. Let f/n believe he waited for her after the game, to take her home. Let her believe he meant all that sweet talk he told her. Let her believe everything was GENUINE from the start. And there wasn't any bet we had with Atsumu when you realized she's the only person who hasn't paid any attention to him."

Your eyes looked furious by this point and you were pissed. Suna knew he was treading on thin ice, and you were about to snap, but he decided to take this further.

"but Atsumu fell for her for real after some time."

"if you're here to defend him and our actions then I suggest you leave."

He raised his hand in surrender. He didn't want to piss you off further. "I'm sorry, jeez."

Rolling your eyes, you rested your chin on your palm and stared outside. You didn't want to blast at anyone in the school.

"anyway, I wasn't here for that. I came here for a different reason, and I got distracted. Sorry for pissing you off." Suna spoke up.

You didn't look at him, but still replied. "apologise to f/n Suna, not me."

He smirked. He knew himself deep down, what they did was wrong. F/n was a nice person, and she didn't deserve any of that. So what y/n did was correct, even if that kinda ruined her relations with others, and Suna admired that. Not like he was going to tell her that.

"I will. In fact, after school" he says, his voice a bit solemn.

This time you look at him.

"I'm glad." you say. You didn't want to lecture Suna. He was a 17 year old teenager after all, with a sensible head between his shoulders. He can make his own decisions, just like you did.

Maybe for the first time, you saw Suna give a proper smile to you. Most of the time he would either have a smirk, or have a poker face. But you never saw him smile like he's doing this time.

"wow, I've never seen you smile like that before." you say, without thinking.

Suna looks a bit surprised but still smiles. "now you have."

You giggle and nod. Suna then gets up and turns to leave but stop. Facing you again, he says. "the main reason why I came here was to ask your help for an assignment. And I'm not great in that subject. So after I've apologised and sorted everything between me and f/n, will you consider helping me?"

You look at his poor attempt to plead. It didn't suit him at all. So you give him a smile and say, "first you apologise. Then I'll think about it."

Suna narrowed his eyes at you, amused by your antics. "very well." he says and bids you goodbye before exiting the class.

You shake your head at the retreating figure and smile to yourself. Of course you were going to help him.

Maybe it wasn't so bad after all...

Here's chapter 2. I know much wasn't revealed, but it gets better (at least in my head). Stay tuned.

Have a beautiful day. ✌️

Shout out to @nyxagape for being the first ever person to comment in the first ever chapter I wrote for my first ever fanfic. Thanks a lot man!

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Mountain Night

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG-13/T (lots of implications but nothing explicit)

Original Idea: Just kinda skimming back through ACOTAR and felt like it.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This has a couple extra headcanons of mine sprinkled in here, just to fill in gaps. Thanks. Enjoy!

^^^^^

I stood in front of the fireplace next to Rhysand, watching the flames. Somewhere within the Mountain, a bell tolled eight, agreeing with the clock on Rhys’ mantel. Rhys’ shoulders slumped. “Amarantha’s gonna be summoning me any time now,” he said. Dejected, exhausted. But not defeated.

I reached out and held him. “Not much longer now. The forty-nine years of Tamlin’s curse are almost over. Then… then we’ll see if we can break the spell on you and the other High Lords and get out of here,” I said into his shoulder. I traced my fingertips over his shoulder blades, where his wings met his back when he had them out. Amarantha didn’t even know he had wings—and he wanted to keep it that way.

“We can only pray,” he said, wrapping his own arms around me.

The mating bond thrummed between us. Neither of us had accepted it. Acted on it. If we did, Amarantha would smell it on us. Destroy me for what I meant to Rhys, just to torment him. It drove us both mad—wild, occasionally—but we’d fought it for years. We could fight it until we were free.

I kissed his barely-exposed collarbone, where the hint of his tattoos were poking out.

“Happy Starfall, Rhysand,” I whispered.

He shuddered. “Happy Starfall, darling,” he replied. His voice shook slightly. He blinked away tears and released me from the hug. Still holding one of my hands, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles.

His eyes, so dark blue they were violet, seemed to be piercing right into my soul. “I swear to you, when we’re free, we will never have to hide our love from anyone,” he said.

I smiled. “That will be nice.”

His voice dropped to a whisper, “Go. Be safe. Walk through the walls as a shadow so she doesn’t see you leaving.” He pressed his forehead to mine.

“I will.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I let his hands go. Darkness swam over my skin, almost like how they did with Azriel. Az… I missed our family.

Tears brimmed in my eyes. I backed toward the opposite wall from the fireplace, my lower body passing through the unrumpled bed. I wiped the tears away, staring at Rhys for as long as I could before I was swallowed by the wall.

I lingered in the wall for a while, letting my tears fall in the privacy of the stone. Inches from Rhys, yet I may as well have been on the other side of the Wall on the farthest end of the human continent. Forty-nine years. So close, trapped, together Under the Mountain. Mates unable to accept their bond for fear of their lives.

I heard the door open to Rhys’ room. “Well, hello, handsome,” Amarantha’s smooth voice greeted.

The sound sent me running. I knew Rhys hated every single night she forced herself on him. I knew he wouldn’t want me to hear. Knew he was ashamed of it, but willing to keep doing it to keep our family and our home safe.

I loved him all the more for it.

Even if the dormant mating bond chafed against me at the thought of another female in bed with my mate.

Stupid territorial instincts.

I burst out of the stone in my own bedchamber. Small, not particularly grand. Sometimes I imagined it was the guest room I usually occupied in the Velaris townhouse. When I was desperately in need of comfort. Neither Rhys nor I had seen the sun much in the last forty-nine years. Sometimes, in midsummer, Rhys, Helion, me, and a few closely trusted people would gather in one of our bedchambers and let Helion glow, imitating the sun.

Then Rhys would cast a blanket of darkness through the room. Darkness and those glittering stars. A night sky we never got to see either.

Neither High Lord had enough power to hold the light or dark for too long, but the brief snatches we got of both were enough to keep hoping. Enough to keep us from breaking entirely. From shattering down to our very souls.

I collapsed on my bed. Nuala and Cerridwen appeared a few minutes later. Just to sit with me. Their touches were light as I cried. It felt like they were barely embracing me. But I knew they were there. Appreciated their care and concern. As well as their company. If it weren’t for Rhys and Helion, I would have certainly gone mad a long time ago.

“My lady,” Nuala said softly, “how may we ease your pain?”

I shook my head. “Just… just sit with me a while.”

The twins nodded. “We serve and protect,” Cerridwen said.

The three of us stayed on the edge of my bed for hours. Hours, I knew, Rhys was spending with Amarantha. On Starfall. Because she knew he loved it, and she wanted to deprive him of it. Just as, if she found out we were mates, she would want to deprive him of me. Slowly. Painfully. In every way possible before I finally died. Hoping to break him beyond repair.

But my High Lord’s soul was forged in hotter fires, even, than this half-century-long trial. He would never let her break him. Even if she found out about his relation to me.

Long after midnight, Cerridwen pulled a small comb out of my hair that I’d forgotten I’d put in. A small, silver thing with a single star engraved into the top. No jewels, just metal. A simple ornament to remind myself it was Starfall. To remind Rhys.

Even if I had forgotten I put it in.

The twins helped me with the stiff buttons of my tunic and shirt and then left me for the evening to finish undressing and climbing into bed.

I didn’t sleep.

Forty-nine years, and I never slept the night of Starfall. Nor the Winter Solstice.

—

Rhys slipped into my room well into the next morning. I was still lying in bed, eyes closed but awake. He set a hand on my shoulder.

I opened my eyes.

His wings were out.

I sat up quickly. “What—why—”

He just held a finger to his lips. “So you know it’s me. Not some illusion. She didn’t see. I didn’t let them out until I closed the door in here.” His wings tilted backwards and then disappeared.

I leaned my head onto his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me.

“This kills me,” he whispered. “I should never have brought you to that party. Then you wouldn’t be stuck here.”

“It was my choice too,” I reminded him, sitting up from his shoulder. “I thought… I thought you’d need backup. Someone to distract anyone who came too near while you were getting into her head to make her confess. It kills me that I didn’t think to test your drink for curses. Sniff it for poisons. I want to kill her for all she’s taken from you. For the fact that we’ve lived like this for decades. That I can’t take you to be mine because of her. Some nights it makes me sick thinking about my mate being forced to bed a different female. This isn’t your fault, Rhysand. It’s mine too.”

I never called him his full given name to his face unless I was serious about something. He knew it too. Which was why his violet eyes finally met mine from where our knees were almost touching.

“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered.

“I feel the same way about you.”

He kissed my forehead.

Forty-nine years. The bond had snapped into place thirty years ago, even though we’d known each other for two centuries before that. Thirty years of not being able to even kiss him on the lips for fear of us both losing control and accepting the bond on both ends. Slamming our scents together in an unmistakeable sign we were mates.

“I promise, I’ll find a way to get us out of this,” Rhysand vowed, voice low.

“I’ll help any way I can,” I said.

It wasn’t a bargain, per se. Not the type that required a tattoo. Just a quiet promise between two people in love.

Nuala appeared in the room. “Amarantha’s calling a party for tonight,” she said. “Throne room. The usual.”

“Thank you,” Rhys and I said at the same time. She nodded and disappeared.

Silence stretched out between us for a few minutes. Long enough that it started to make me uncomfortable. I got out of bed and started selecting clothes for the day. Awful, immodest, wicked, Under the Mountain clothes.

“What do you think?” Rhysand finally asked.

“About?” I tested.

“The party tonight.”

“It’ll be just like all the other ones.”

“Wanna shake things up?”

“No. A party just like all the other ones is how we’ve survived this long.” I picked up a brush from where it sat on my basic vanity, set my clothes bundle where the brush had been, and started to detangle my hair. “We survive by playing our roles. Wearing masks even worse than those at the Spring Court, stuck to their faces. The people here—they know what you are. They know what I am. They know I will pretend to tolerate their company while the monster inside sizes up its prey. They know you do the same thing. Changing it now won’t be good for us.” I shook my head.

“What if you arrive in your most revealing gown and we pretend to be lovers that will use and discard each other?”

I didn’t answer until I finished brushing out my hair. “You know that would be dangerous.”

“It would distract Amarantha.”

I threw the brush across the room, where it bounced off the padded headboard, soaring an inch past Rhysand’s ear. “I’m not talking about Amarantha!” I snapped. Rhys looked startled, though the expression smoothed out after the blink of an eye. “You know why we can’t do that to each other. Not now. Because… because—” I squared my shoulders. “—because having you so close, playing that game… you know neither of us would be able to help it. We’d come back here, shred each other’s clothes, and tomorrow Amarantha would start slowly butchering both of us.”

He looked away from me, down to his knees. I crossed to the door that would lead to my tiny adjoining bathing room. “I know,” he said softly. He stood up and stomped over to me as something seemed to rile his temper. “But don’t assume for a second that she hasn’t noticed you have never taken a lover your entire time here. Everyone else has—except you.”

“So what?”

“She doesn’t like being beaten at her own game. Everyone else takes lovers because she expects them to grow more and more wicked and base as their souls wear down and break. For pretty much everyone else, she’s been right. She thinks she broke me like a prize stallion with very little effort. She sees that you’re not breaking—and she’ll want to start working on wearing you down. Tamlin’s deadline is crawling ever-nearer and she’s getting paranoid and restless. She’ll turn you into entertainment just for defying her like this.”

My shoulders slouched. “Even so, she’d never give up you. And I’m not about to take any other male while I’m here, knowing it’s you I should be taking.” The barest flicker of feeling twitched at the mating bond between us. Which emotion, I couldn’t place.

Rhys looked thoughtful. “She’d let me have a side-dalliance as long as she suspected there was nothing behind it. No care, no emotion at all. Just base, primal, carnal instincts we’d later toss aside.” He shrugged. I missed the sight of his wings sweeping the air with his shrugs back home.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said.

“Your choice.”

It was always my choice. Even when things directly impacted him, or hurt his feelings, it was always my choice. “What about your choice?”

“Well, given I suggested it, I think you already know what my choice would be.” He gave me one of his best, sensuous, seductive grins. Wickedly flirtatious. Appealing to that part of me that was absolutely feral deep down. My chest tightened and I clamped down on the longing rising in my heart.

“Fine. But we can’t let—we can’t let the bond solidify. She can’t know.”

Rhys grinned. “I think you’re going to need to choose a different dress, darling.” He gave me a wink.

If I hadn’t already thrown my hairbrush at him, I’d have done it again.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Hello!

I love all your work so much and I saw that you were going to be taking a break from your Bachelor universe so I wanted to throw some prompts your way to maybe help get some other creative juices flowing *waggles eyebrows*

1) switched at birth AU

2) Everyone already knows their dating AU

3) Law and Order (SVU AU)

4) you’ve got mail AU

Thank you anon, I'm glad you like my writing!

Now that I've finished my Bach fic, I've been at a bit of a loss what I want to do next. Maybe it's because I'm all out of new ideas, maybe it's because work has been absolutely hectic, but my creative brain is completely empty. So I figured, why not try to do one of these prompts?

Here's the thing: I have never seen SVU or You've Got Mail. And I'm pretty sure Switched at Birth is also a TV show I have never seen? When I saw "everyone already knows" my immediate thought was "oh! like in Friends!" but then I remembered I have absolutely read that fic somewhere?? Like someone already wrote that for Jonsa. (I tried to find it again but have had no luck.)

So I chose switched at birth as a concept - I'm not sure if you meant the TV show or not, but I just wrote whatever popped into my brain.

A warning: this turned out a bit more angsty than I intended, and isn't necessarily Jonsa? It is if you squint. A few other notes, Alayne is a completely separate person from Sansa, Lysa is not related to Catelyn, and Baelish never knew Catelyn either. Sorry if it's confusing and/or not at all what you were looking for!

.

.

Sansa feels as if the world has dropped out from beneath her.

They all sit in the drawing room of what she can only describe as a mansion (and she knows that next to her, Father is likely seething. This is the kind of money he aspires to, but will never be able to reach. He will never have a name. Father is a Baelish, he could never be a Stark.)

She stares at the family sitting opposite and her heart sticks in her throat at the sight of them – the mother, the three sons, they all have the same copper hair that she does and she swallows against the rising tears.

This is what she could have had, she thinks as she averts her eyes, but she only manages to catch sight of the family portrait above the mantel. A father, a mother, siblings. She could have had all of this, if not for the slip-up of an overworked, underpaid nurse sixteen years ago. She could have been Alayne Stark. Instead she is Sansa Baelish.

Switched at birth.

Alayne sits with her family (that should be Sansa's family), and she doesn't look as out of place as she should. Her dark hair matches Mr. Stark's – matches the other daughter, Arya. Alayne fits right in.

Sansa sits with Father (no, not her father; the man who raised her) on the opposite couch and wonders if her Mother (no, not her mother) had known, somehow. Is that why Mother had always been so cruel to her? Why she always seemed to hate Sansa for reasons she could never figure out? Perhaps Mother had known, somehow, that Sansa wasn't hers. Sansa remembers reading fairy stories of Changelings – how the mother would know, insist the child wasn't hers, how no one ever believed her. Is that why Mother threw herself off the roof all those years ago?

“Well this is fucking awkward,” the girl, Arya, mutters, and it breaks the silence as Mr. Stark sighs and presses a hand over his face and Mrs. Stark begins to scold her for her language and impropriety. Sansa watches Alayne laugh, and she feels more than ever like an intruder. She may share the Stark blood, but it seems as if Alayne and Arya are more alike than not. And by the way the brothers are trying to hide their own laughter, it seems Alayne fits in with all of them.

Perhaps it wasn't a mistake to switch them, Sansa thinks bitterly. Perhaps the Starks are better for having Alayne.

….

She is forced to get to know the Stark family, though she does not think she wants to. She doesn't want to look at their life and wish it could have been hers – wish that Ned Stark with his kind eyes and calm voice could have been her father. Wish that Catelyn Stark with her smiles and her freshly baked cookies could have been her mother. Wish that she could have been surrounded by siblings and dogs and even two strange psuedo-adopted-but-not-really brothers that she meets later on named Jon and Theon. The Stark household is chaotic and confusing and Sansa tells herself she would have hated growing up here.

….

She isn't surprised to find that she's not sad Father isn't her real father. In fact, there's a sort of joy inside her that when she turns eighteen, she can be free of him. He is still her legal guardian, the courts have decided, but she has less than two years before she is free and they aren't actually related and so she doesn't have to feel guilty about her dreams of leaving him.

It grows inside her as the weeks and months go by – a hatred she has never truly let herself feel before. She hates him, despises him. She always has.

Catelyn Stark is insistent on getting to know her because Sansa is her daughter, but Sansa can tell that Father has no real desire to get to know his own real daughter. He does not care about Alayne – no, what he cares about is ingratiating himself into the Stark family. She wonders if the Starks can see it like she can. She hopes not – she doesn't want them to think she's only coming to these weekly meetings for their money and their name.

In all honestly, she's not actually sure why she keeps coming to these meetings. All they do is remind her that the Starks will never truly be her family. All they do is highlight how much Father cares about social climbing. These meetings are painful and every week when she finally gets home and takes a shower and gets into her pajamas and climbs into bed, she sobs into her pillow for what could have been.

…

“You know the party's inside, right?”

Sansa startles out of her reverie and whirls around, heart pounding, to find Jon Snow standing behind her, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket.

It's Christmas and the snow is thick on the ground and she's shivering in the thin wrap that she came outside with, her coat in a closet where Mrs. Stark had taken it hours earlier.

“Are you allowed to be smoking?” she asks instead of answering and he laughs, pulling one out of the pack and placing it between his lips.

“I'm eighteen,” he shrugs, speaking around the cigarette dangling out of his mouth. His hands come up and he lights it, with one cupped around the end against the cold winter wind.

“I can't imagine Mrs. Stark approves of smoking,” she sniffs, then shakes her head no when Jon holds the pack out to her in offering. She watches his mouth twitch into a smile for a moment, like he knew she wouldn't take one, before putting the pack back in his coat pocket.

“Seems you don't approve, either.”

“Well, I am her daughter.” She says it and means it to be a joke, but the words come out soft and it wavers at the end.

Jon watches her for a moment, then unzips his coat and shrugs it off and holds it out to her and she stares at it blankly, her mind not processing the gesture. He shakes the coat, like he's insisting she take it and she finally does, slipping it on and then closing her eyes at the immediate warmth of it.

“I get it,” Jon says after a while, when he's halfway down to the filter, clouds of smoke drifting up into the night sky. “I mean, not exactly, I'm not sure there's anyone who can understand... you know-” he gestures at her. “But I get what's it's like - to be a Stark, but not. They practically raised me, but I'm not... I'll never actually be one of them.”

“I used to read fairytales,” she admits, turning her face from him because it's easier to talk into the dark, snow-covered landscape than him. “About secret princesses, and the king and queen were always so happy to have their daughter back. In the stories, there was never another princess who already took her place. Who fit in better.”

Alayne is a perfect Stark, she thinks. Over the months, she's seen it – how Alayne plays football and hockey with her brothers and sisters, makes jokes that Sansa would never. She's nothing like Sansa, who always preferred reading poetry to playing outside, with perfect manners and perfect posture. Cold and reserved. She wishes she were more like Alayne – more like a Stark.

She hears Jon sigh and take one last drag of the cigarette before he puts it out in the snow. “You're a lot like Cat, you know,” he says finally, and she feels something twist painfully in her chest. “And Bran. I mean, I don't know you that well, I guess, but...”

She shakes her head because he's wrong. She's nothing like any of the Starks (though she's not a Baelish, either). Jon sighs again, louder this time, with more annoyance.

“You are,” he insists, and she finally turns to face him again and opens her mouth to argue, but he gets there first. “You'd see it if you let yourself. If you actually tried. Cat's... Cat is trying so hard. You should see how she gets before you come over. Everyone is freaking out about it but you won't even try to get to know them. And I might not get how you feel, but Alayne? Have you even tried to talk to her?”

That painful twist in her chest tightens, it swoops down into her belly and up into her throat. “I am-”

“Like I said, I can't imagine how it feels, you know? And I'm sure it's a lot, and you're allowed to feel how you feel, but the Starks are... they want you here, I promise. But if you don't want to be, if you don't want them in your life, maybe this should all stop, cause it's hurting them and I think it's hurting you. Maybe we shouldn't be trying to force it if it's not what you want.”

Her mind is blank, she can't think of a single argument, though she wants to argue. She wants to say that Alayne hasn't tried talking to her, either. She wants to insist that she is trying, but... but she's not. Not really. She's holding herself at a distance, she's already decided she doesn't belong.

“What if they don't like me?” The words slip out of her, unbidden, her voice barely a whisper. It wavers in the dark. (Her deepest fear – that if she lets them get close to her, they'll decide she isn't worth it, that they don't want her.)

She's not sure what response she was expecting, but it's not for Jon to smile – he does, gives her a little half smile and raises his shoulders in a shrug. “I don't know you that well yet, but so far I like you just fine. And I'm not even a Stark.”

“You seem like a Stark,” she tells him, and watches something flicker across his face and she doesn't know him well enough yet to tell what it is.

“I'm not actually related,” he says, though she already knows this. “Not by blood or anything.” For a moment he brings his hand up to rub at the back of his neck and he suddenly won't look at her and she wonders if she said something wrong. “We should go back inside,” he seems to change the subject and she hesitates, but then he holds out his hand. After a moment, she takes it, and follows him back inside, out of the freezing night air and into the warmth of the house. In the distance, she can hear voices and laughter, she can smell the cinnamon and pine in the air.

She could get lost here, if she let herself.

“There you are,” Mrs. Stark looks up as they enter the kitchen, and Jon lets go of her hand. Mrs. Stark narrows her eyes at Jon, then looks at the back door, like she guesses what he was doing out there and doesn't approve.

“I'm uh...” Jon starts, looking between Mrs. Stark and her, “I should get back to the party.” Before he goes, he turns back to her and she remembers she's still in his coat and she hurriedly takes it off, feeling heat high up on her cheeks as she does. “Try,” he says, voice too low for Mrs. Stark to hear. Then he takes his coat and leaves the kitchen – leaves her in the kitchen. Alone. With Mrs. Stark.

“Are you having fun?” Mrs. Stark's voice is light, but there's something underneath, a hesitance.

“I am,” she says back, wondering if she should make some excuse and leave. Wondering if Mrs. Stark doesn't want to be here talking to her.

(Try.)

“I wanted to thank you for inviting me,” she blurts out, and Mrs. Stark looks at her sharply. “I had some of the pumpkin pie, it was really good.”

It's such a stupid, nonsense thing to say, but Mrs. Stark looks pleased.

“It's a family recipe,” Mrs. Stark says, and then – a bit of hesitation - “I could teach it to you, if you'd like.”

Sansa's breath catches in her throat and it takes her a moment to say, “I like baking.”

“So do I. I could never get Alayne or Arya into it.” Mrs. Stark says it with a fond smile and Sansa feels something break open inside of her and she realizes, she knows, that she wants this. She wants to know this family, she wants to be a part of it. She doesn't want to take Alayne's place, she never could, but she...

“You could teach me,” she whispers. “Sometime. I'd like that.”

“So would I,” Mrs St- her mother, says with a smile that lights up the room.

[avengerscompound]

Until the End of the World - 20

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1640

Rating:  E

Warnings: Hospitals, breastfeeding, nothing major

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together.  Things are calm and you feel like a family unit.  When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem.  When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 20

Steve was dozing when one of the babies started to cry.  He was up and out of bed as the second one’s cries joined the first and you and Bucky stirred and sat up.  He’d slept lightly - his mind full of thoughts about Geo, Gal, and his daughter.  He had juggled all the options as he’d seen them.  Lying and saying Gal was his.  Trying to adopt him legally.  Finding his family and returning them.  He considered the best-case scenarios and the worst-case ones.  That with the lingering worry about keeping you and Geo safe, and expunging all records of you from any databases they might have left, did not lend itself to a good night’s sleep.  Steve picked up the little boy first, he was crying louder and his face was screwed up and changing color.  “Hey little one,” he soothed, bouncing him a little.  “I bet you don’t know what’s what.”

Bucky moved beside him and picked up his daughter.  “Guess we change them and try to feed them?”

“Gal might need a bottle,” you said as Steve took the infant to the changing table.  “I don’t know if I should breastfeed him or not… I mean people do that right?  Wet nurses used to be a thing.  But then… my milk hasn’t come in yet, and he’d already be having milk, and I’m barely making colostrum.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Steve assured you.  “I’ll get one of the staff to bring in a bottle.  FRIDAY?”

“It’s on its way,” the AI confirmed.

Bucky finished changing the girl and brought her over to you.  You adjusted the back of the bed so that you could lean on it while sitting up and put a pillow in your lap before taking her from Bucky.  Geo grumbled and tried to readjust.  The babies had well and truly woken him, but he seemed to be trying to ignore that the world existed anywhere else except tucked into your side, safe-and-sound.

As you attempted to get the baby to latch a nurse came in with a bottle.  “Here you are, Captain Rogers,” she said, handing it over.   She turned her attention to you and began to fuss around you.  “Do you need help?”

“Yes, please,” you agreed.  “It’s been a while.”

The nurse helped you to get the infant latched as Steve sat down and began to feed Gal his bottle.  When she left again Steve looked over to you.

“We have some things we need to arrange,” he said.

You looked over at him, the alarm you were feeling was written all over your face.  “She asked me to take care of him.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Steve said.  “I know, and we will.  But I’ve been thinking about it, and as much as lying and saying you had twins sounds like a quick fix, it’s something that is easily disproved, and it takes his history away from him.  You were worried about taking John’s connection away from Geo.  Shouldn’t we let Gal grow up knowing as much about his background as he can know his parents too?  His mom died trying to protect you all.  She should be honored and remembered too.”

You frowned and looked over at the little boy in Steve’s arms.  “What if they take him from us?”

Steve looked down at the baby in his arms and frowned slightly.  The worst-case scenario in his head was that they took him and ended up accidentally giving him straight to HYDRA.  He would do what he needed to, to prevent that from happening, but he wanted to trust the system to trust him given he had given so much of himself to protect it.  “Sweetheart,” he said gently.  “If you and Bucky decide that we should lie and say he’s biologically ours - that you gave birth to twins - I won’t fight it.  I’ll do whatever I can to protect that secret.  But if this little boy has family, they have a right to know about him, and maybe - maybe, keeping him safe means letting him be raised by them.”

You frowned and caressed your daughter's cheek, as you seemed to process the words.  You looked over to Bucky who was sitting quietly watching you both.  “What do you think, Buck?”

“I think…” he said slowly.  “I think Steve makes some good points.  There’s definitely a risk, but if we do lie and they find out, we could lose all the kids.”

“Alright,” you agreed and shifted the baby to the other breast.  “We need to make sure he’s safe, no matter what.”

“We will.  If the worst-case happens, and the powers that be decide we aren’t a suitable home, we’ll make sure the family that takes him is vetted by Wanda, and no record of where he came from follows him to where he goes.”

You frowned and nodded.  “Okay.  Well, how do we do this?”

“We sometimes work with a lawyer,” Steve said.  “He’s a defense attorney but he understands the position we’re in and is pretty good at arguing it in court.  He might be able to help with this a little or at least recommend someone who can.  In the meantime, I’ve had FRIDAY looking into this little guy’s family.”  He sits Gal up and puts his empty bottle to the side and while he supports his head, he gently rubbed the infant’s back until he burped.  “At least then we know where we stand.”

“Right,” you said, putting your breast away.  Bucky got up and took the baby from your arms and you began cuddling Geo.  “Okay.  I guess we better do that.”

“FRIDAY?”  Steve said, looking up.  “Have you found anything?”

“I am still checking all possible leads,” she said.  “But from my searching of the files we obtained from HYDRA, participants were selected in the initial trial based on a lack of family ties.  From what I gather the child’s biological father was raised in foster care and changed homes at least a dozen times.”

You furrowed your brow and Steve looked over at you.  “Is that true?  Is that why you never spoke about your family?”

“I didn’t know about the others.  I know John was an only child whose parents died in a car accident when he was seventeen.   And I was raised by my grandparents.  My grandpa died when I was twelve, and my grandma when I was nineteen.  I don’t know who my father even is, and my mother is around, but I don’t speak to her,” you explained.  “I guess the difference was enough to not draw the link.”

“It makes sense,” Bucky said.  “They were doing some pretty intense human trials.  If something went wrong, then they good make you disappear and no one would be there to ask questions.”

“If Gal has no family, that might make it easier,” Steve said.  “We’ll keep looking into things, but we’ll do this the right way.  We need to lodge a birth certificate for him, which isn’t going to be easy either.”

The three of you fell silent for a little while.  It was a weighty silence, full of anxiety and unspoken worries.  This was Steve’s family now and as much as he wanted to protect them, he was beginning to fear he wouldn’t be able to.

“There’s something else we need to decide,” Bucky said, cutting through the heavy silence.

You and Steve both looked over at him curiously and Bucky smiled down at the little girl in his arms.  “We still haven’t picked her name.”

“We were tossing up Rebecca or Sarah,” you said.  “Does she look like one more than the other?”

Steve moved and sat on the edge of the bed beside you and Geo.  He rubbed the boy's back gently.  “What do you think, Geo?  What does she look more like to you?”

Geo poked his head out from your side for the first time and looked over at Bucky with the baby.  He furrowed his brow like he was really considering it.  “Ember.”

“Ember?”  Steve asked.

“We didn’t even consider that one,” you added.

Geo’s lip began to quiver and he hid back in your side.  The stress of everything obviously making it too hard for him to be questioned.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve said.  “We didn’t say no, we’re just thinking about it.”

“It might be good for her to have her own name, without the burden of living up to anyone,” Bucky said.

“I kinda like how it’s related to fire,” you said.  “Geo is earth, Ember is fire.”

Steve smiled and rubbed Geo’s side.  “That is a nice theme.  Gal doesn’t really fit it though.”

“What does Gal mean?”  Bucky asked.

“Gal is a Hebrew name meaning ‘wave’,” FRIDAY responded.  “As in waves in the ocean.”

The three of you looked at each other with your jaws dropped open.  “That feels like fate,” you said.

As much as Steve resisted the idea of fate, there were too many things that had happened to him that let him ignore it.  The fact that he and the boy he had grown up loving were both sitting here in a relationship when they should both dead and buried was one huge example of it.  He wasn’t going to ignore it now.

“I think you’re right, Geo,” Steve said.  “I think she’s an Ember too.”

Geo sat up and smiled looking over at his sister.

“Ember sounds a little better with Rebecca than Sarah,” you added.  “Is that okay with both of you?”

Bucky’s face lit up and that alone sold Steve on the name.  “Sounds perfect,” he said.  “Ember Rebecca Barnes-Rogers.”

You leaned over and kissed him gently, your lips softly grazing over his.  He vowed in that moment, that no one would ever threaten his family again.  He’d personally make sure of it.

// NEXT

[lubdubsworld]

Dangerously Beautiful. (Seokjin x oc)

Kim Seokjin x OC!!

 Genre : Organized Crime AU ! 

Warnings : AU related violence . Explicit Content. Blood , Gore but not too bad. I’ll see how it goes. Extremely Dubious Consent. Abusive relationships. Unhealthy power dynamics. 

Summary : When you’re caught in a war that has no end, the only goal is to survive. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prologue

“Been a while, huh baby? You’re too fucking tight....” Seokjin grunted, fingers crushing my wrists together with a bruising grip , eyes narrowed as he smirked right into my face as he fucked into me, his hips slamming into mine with a force that made my bones rattle and I had to bite my lips to keep from crying out, tears spilling over my eyes and soaking the fabric of his tie , knotted and stuffed in my mouth. 

“But that’s good...at least it tells me you haven’t been spreading your thighs for anyone else, right baby? Not that you would dare....you know you’re mine, don’t you ? Your sexy little body....all mine, huh darling?” He leaned down and made to kiss me and i panicked. I didn’t want him to kiss me. 

I closed my eyes, turning my face away but he brought one hand up to grip my jaw, yanking my face back to stare at him. He tightened the grip on my chin and I whimpered when his thumb dug into my skin . 

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” He demanded. “ What are you afraid of huh? Afraid to admit how much you like this? How much you like having my cock in your cunt?”

I glared at him, hoping he could read all the hatred, all the disdain and scorn and fury I felt for him. He merely laughed shaking his head, his movements speeding up. He stared at me like I was the most precious thing in the world and yet he treated me like I was something he wanted to destroy. 

“So you’ve been hanging out with Jihoon again...imagine my surprise doll... Me .... one of the most powerful in the country, “ He punctuated each pause with a thrust that left me wincing in pain, “one of the most feared men in the country and yet....my beautiful wife...out flaunting a relationship with another man.... Don’t make me put a bullet in my own brother’s head, Renae....” He growled, thumb slipping into my mouth, alongside the tie. I closed my eyes, , exhausted as my body went limp to fight the pain.

 I hated him. Hated him . Hated him.  

“Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be sore for days.....Heard you made plans with him? Let’s see how you run around the city with my brother if you can’t fucking walk tomorrow.” he snarled and I choked on my tears.

The knock on the door made him pause and he swore. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He roared and I held my breath. 

 Please... Please leave... Just, Please.

“Wang’s here, hyung.” Jungkook’s voice carried through the thick mahogany door. “ He’s got the Lee kid. “ 

Seokjin groaned . 

He glared at the door for a second , taking deep breaths to calm himself down and I could see the anger swelling inside him. i held my breath because I did not want to be the outlet for all that rage. I stared , watching his eyes shift to mine, cold and unfeeling. 

I winced when he brought his clenched fist down on the sheet with enough force to rattle the whole bed. I exhaled shakily as his fingers came up to brush the sweat slicked bangs off my face, thumb pressing into my lips with force.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to reschedule, princess.” he grunted pulling out, and relief flooded my body so hard, i sagged. He made to move away but stopped when I shuddered.

“What? “ He snapped and I froze. 

His fingers reached for the knot at the back of my head and he yanked on it till the tie came undone. I gasped when he pulled the fabric out of my mouth , swallowing to sooth by bruised throat. 

“You look entirely too glad that I’m leaving.” He tilted his head thoughtfully and my gaze snapped to his. 

“I.. I..” My voice broke, rusty from disuse. 

“On your hands and knees.” 

I sobbed in disbelief, shaking my head and trying to move away but he gripped my waist, turning me over and lifting my hips till I was on all fours.

“Grab the fucking headboard.” He whispered , sounding unnaturally calm and I felt a chill spread all over my skin. 

With Seokjin, the calmer he was, the more reason you had to be afraid. 

“I’m gonna fuck you till I cum and then I’m supposed to go kill Lee Jae Hwan’s son. If you stay quiet , let me do my thing... I may consider letting him live. What say, princess? He’s only twenty three years old....  “ He smiled eerily, the sheer beauty of his face a complete contrast to the things he did. 

I closed my eyes. 

It wasn’t really a fucking choice was it? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You didn’t come to the cafe.” Jihoon’s voice came from the shadows , just as I left the library on the east wing. I felt my heart race, eyes darting up and down the length of the corridor, anxiety spiking as I tried to listen for footsteps or voices. It was mid afternoon and the sun spilled into the open hallways through the open windows, and there was no one in sight. 

 No one visited the East wing that often especially in the middle of the day but you could never be too careful. The servants , guards and the housekeeper were all loyal to Seokjin. And last night... Seokjin had made it clear that he was watching. I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t put handsome, kind Jihoon’s life in danger for my own selfish desires. 

I ignored him, walking a bit faster to get away but he moved faster, stopping in front of me and holding both hands up to stop me. 

“Renae....what’s wrong?” He asked softly , eyes warm and worried and brimming with concern and i wanted to sob.

“We shouldn’t be doing this , “ i whispered, shaking my head. “ I can’t convince Seokjin to let me go if he thinks it is  you  I’m leaving with. Right now I hold no value to him but if you keep following me around..acting like a fool....he will keep me chained to his side.!!!” 

Jihoon growled , eyes flashing with frustration and anger.

“He doesn’t deserve you!”

“I know.” I whispered, glancing back up and down the corridor. I was so terrified in my own home and it was so unfair. “ I know but you must remember.... he did not force me into anything. I came here of my own volition. I let him court me and marry me and I am his wife now. He owns me. Unless he lets me go, I cannot escape.” 

“Its been five years. How much longer? How much longer must I wait for you to-”

“I never asked you to wait. Your waiting is your own doing. Don’t pin that on my head, Master Kim.” I said coldly. 

He flushed at that. 

“I just.. i love you. I care for you deeply and I want to give you the life you deserve...does that count for nothing?” He asked, desperately and I looked away, laughing at his naivety. 

At twenty five, Jihoon was as naive as they came. He had been raised, sheltered. Away from the family business. He did not know how ruthless his brother was. 

How little Seokjin valued  human life? How fiercely possessive he was of the things he owned. 

How little he cared about what anyone else wanted? 

“No..matter what any of us wants,  because only the king gets to have what he wants “ I said sharply, “ and Kim Seokjin is the King. This is his empire. You and I , we are pawn in his court, only here to serve him as he asks us to....to give him what he wants...... And as long as he wants me , in his house and in his bed, I am bound to him. You’re risking your life , for something that may not even be real” 

“Don’t say that... Don’t you dare say that.. What we have is real... it  is  real.” He said softly. 

I stared at him, shaking my head. 

“After four years with your brother I no longer know what is real and what isn’t. “  

He stared at his feet.

“You love him. “ I said softly.

He didn’t deny it. 

“I love you more.” He said hoarsely.

I laughed a little.

“I’m sure you believe that. But the truth is he  will  kill you. He told me as much. I can’t have that on my head, Jihoon.” 

I turned away, clutching my book to my chest , as I walked away from the only person who had ever shown me any kindness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She is in love with Jihoon.” Seokjin said casually, taking a sip of his whiskey, eyes trained on the sunset, lavishly beautiful from their position up on one the tallest towers in the estate. 

Yoongi hummed thoughtfully.

“not surprising considering you treat her like dirt.”

Seokjin grimaced.

“I don’t have time to indulge all her fairytale fantasies. She is my wife , she is honor bound to serve me and me alone.” He growled. 

Yoongi laughed.

“This isn’t the dark ages. You married her. You didn’t buy her love....” 

“then why am I still fucking paying for it. “ He snapped. “ Why am I still here, four years later, chained to her but nowhere closer to being what she wants. Why am I here, contemplating killing my own brother....? “

Yoongi shook his head. 

“Because you wasted the years when you should’ve been there for her. You left her alone in a sprawling mansion with no one to lean on and it was your brother who offered her the companionship she craved...” 

“My father had died!” Seokjin shouted, fists clenched in frustration. “ He died and he left me a crumbling, burning mess of an organization filled with traitors and opportunists. None of them were loyal to me , I had an attempt on my life every day of the fucking week...so forgive me if I couldn’t take time off to play house with a nineteen year old girl .......” 

“Its not too late.” Yoongi said softly. 

Seokjin sighed. 

“Yoongi...”

“ You’re not that man anymore, Seokjin.... You’ve done your part. You’ve built an empire even the Romans would envy and you are the one in control. She isn’t nineteen anymore either..... She’s twenty four. She knows the kind of life you lead, She will be more understanding. She hasn’t left yet so there’s no reason you shouldn’t try-” 

“She has been looking for divorce lawyers.” Seokjin whispered. “ She wants me to let her go.”

Yoongi stayed quiet.

Seokjin continued, voice laced with frustration. 

“I can’t do that. I... I don’t know what love is but I feel...something for her. Something that makes it impossible for me to contemplate a life without her.  So I can’t let her go but if I keep her life this, if I chain her to my side , she is only going farther away from me. i don’t.. i don’t know what to do.” he said helplessly. 

Yoongi nodded.

“I think its time to let Jungkook take over as the head of operations.” He said softly.

Seokjin’s eyes snapped to him. 

“What?! He’s not ready -”

“And he’ll never be ready if you don’t give him the chance to prove himself. He is intelligent , sharp and ruthless. He knows the in and out of this business like you do and he has stayed by your side since he was sixteen years old. He loves you like a brother and he is loyal to you in a way that I’ve never witnessed in my life. “

Seokjin sighed running a hand over his face. 

“So, what? I just hand things over to him and go sit in an armchair fiddling my thumbs?”

Yoongi laughed.

“No... you take a step back... see over everything and offer us your advice when we’re stuck. The way bosses all over the world function. The next time there’s an issue that needs to be dealt with, you trust  us  to deal with it, instead of turning up at an abandoned warehouse at two in the morning to break some poor college kid’s arm.” 

Seokjin nodded, taking another sip of his drink.

“And... Renae?”

“You tell her you want to build a relationship with her. Beg her for a chance if you have to and then you fix things  If you want her love, you earn it. “ 

“Is that how you earned your wife’s love?” Seokjin smirked. 

Yoongi grimaced.

“Let’s not talk about that ...’“ He grunted. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I walked into the dining room that evening, the last thing I expected was my husband, dressed to the nines and leaning against the fireplace, staring off into space. 

He straightened when he saw me and i froze in place, fear choking my insides. 

“Hi.” He said softly.

I blinked, confused.

“I was hoping to have dinner with you.”

He what?

I merely stared at him, completely thrown. 

“Unless you have other plans.” 

I pinched myself discreetly. Was I having a fever dream? Had I fallen asleep in the library?

“Say something.” He snapped and I got pulled out of my reverie. 

I swallowed.

“No.. I.. no i don’t have any plans.”

“Good. Come, let’s sit.” 

He pulled a chair out for me and i stared at him in confusion, walking over and carefully lowering myself into the seat. 

“Are you going to kill me?” I blurted out when he took the seat opposite to me. 

He stared at me in shock.

“What?! Of course not..why would you think that?” he demanded. 

I swallowed. 

“What are you doing here then.??? ..you don’t do this. Ever.”

“Maybe I’ve changed.” He said casually and I laughed in disbelief.

“I don’t know what sick game you’re trying to play with me but...”

“I’ve been neglecting you.” he said gently. 

I froze.

:” I’ve not been the kind of husband I could’ve been. And I think, I need to remedy that.”

He stared at me. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” I said shakily.

“I want to make this work. “

“This?” i said, slightly hysterical.

“Our marriage. I want to make it work.”

“I.. no. I don’t want that.. I want a-”

“DON’T!!!” He shouted, fists coming down on the table with a force that made me jump. “ Don’t ask me for a divorce. I’m not giving you one. not now, not ever.” 

I stared down at my knees, tears stinging. 

“I am trying to be more ....gentle. I want to mend things between us so you wouldn’t have to look for comfort or companionship from another man. “ 

“Please stop.” I felt sick. 

“You’re my wife Renae. And i want you to enjoy it. “ 

Nausea. Anger. Disbelief. Despair. 

Everything warred inside me and my head pounded. 

“I ....am not hungry anymore.” I choked out, stumbling to my feet and moving away and for the first time, Seokjin let me leave the room when I wanted to . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Well.... Feedback is appreciated as always.  leave a reply here if you wanna be on the taglist. 

[snarky-art]

Musa and Aisha in their enchantix! I still haven’t figured out how I want the wings to look but that’s ok I think.

Info on their relationship in my version of Winx Club below!

So when Aisha arrives at Alfea in season 2, it’s pretty much the same as in the original show. She doesn’t really know what to do. Anne was the only person her age she had ever really interacted with. The rest of the time she was pretty isolated and surrounded by adults. She has trouble figuring out exactly how to act around the winx and is really scared of messing things up.

Musa is also used to feeling like that. She has a lot of separation anxiety and fear of abandonment which she had manifest in the defense mechanism of not letting people get close so she couldn’t get hurt. She’s gotten better at handling it though ever since joining Alfea and getting a super close knit group of friends. As a result though, she can understand best how Aisha is feeling and is able to help in little ways the others can’t.

Musa does the most to make her feel more comfortable and at ease (the others do too but it just hits a little different coming from someone who really gets it, ya know?) and as a result they become much closer much faster. They find themselves talking more openly about their fears and insecurities and experiences when they’re alone and a they just end up having a really strong bond.
In my version of this, Musa and Riven did get together at the end of season 1, but they breakup around ¾ths of the way through season 2. They realize it just isn’t really healthy for either of them and they both bring out the worst in each other. They both have some insecurities from previous relationships and just their family life in general (Riven’s mom abandoned him, Musa’s mom is dead and her relationship with her father is pretty strained although it does start to get better after the concert episode in season 2), so Musa is the one who ultimately takes the initiative to break it off. They both aren’t happy and Riven takes it especially hard, but Timmy talks some sense into him and he starts working to get better around the end of season 2/beginning of season 3.

Another reason Musa breaks it off is along with realizing how much worse she feels with Riven and along with how much worse she is as a person with him, she has a moment of realization where she just goes “oh, but with Aisha, I DO want to be better, and I trust her so much more completley,, oh no.” and she’s basically like “now we don’t have time to unpack ALL of that right now” but along with ending her relationship being better for both Riven and her, she needs to think some stuff about that over.

Musa is in denial about liking Aisha for a while and tries to stifle it and convince herself it’s nothing or that it’ll go away. This isn’t because she’s having a Gay Panic or something though (in my thing she’s bi and has had partners of other genders before). The panic comes from at this point, Aisha is one of the closest people in her life despite them only knowing each other for about a year and she doesn’t want to ruin something good (cue abandonment issues). Musa handles this physically by being more shy and easily flustered and also by eventually talking to the winx about it. Tecna ties but in my thing, Tecna is borderline Aromantic (demi is what I’m thinking of for her, still haven’t figured it all out though) so she’s not very good at giving advice for it, but she’s happy to listen. Flora gives soft advice and a listening ear, ever the romantic, and Stella is too but she’s much more loud (she also feels bad about trying to hook Musa up with so many dates and her and Riven broke up now that she knows Musa was having a crisis the whole time, granted the date with Jared was a good thing since Jared and Musa became good friends so Stella won’t apologize for that one and Musa decides that’s fair), and Bloom is pretty awkward with relationship stuff so she does the “are ya winning, son?” approach to all of this. Musa appreciates that they’re all trying though, despite the various degrees of success.

Aisha doesn’t really talk to anyone about her feelings for Musa, which she realizes she has shortly after gaining her enchantix. During the first attack on Alfea in the their third year of school, when she sees her enchantix for the first time, and how sure of herself she was about doing what she could to save Galatea’s life and save all the ancient texts and tomes, she’s like “yup that pretty much confirms everything for me.”

In my version Aisha is a lesbian and she’s known for a WHILE. Anne was her first crush and she also liked some of the princesses and nobles that she would meet or see at the many fancy diplomatic meetings she would be dragged to. She’s very secure in her sexuality and romantic attraction (homophobia isn’t really a Thing in my version per se, but there are some concerns about lineage in upper circles for royalty and leaders, since not all queer couples can have children biologically and sometimes adoption is hard depending on the circumstances, ESPECIALLY if there is a form of magic that is needed to be transferred from one member of a family to the next member and it isn’t a guarantee or even possible for some magic to latch onto someone and become apart of their core if they aren’t biologically related). Aisha hadn’t mentioned it to her parents though. Her parents and her don’t have the most open relationship due to the very controlling and stifling nature of both the court her parents rule over and just their general demeanor which leads to the next issue: arranged marriage on Andros, which is something her parents still partake in, and that really makes both Musa and Aisha feel like their hearts are being grabbed and twisted. Once they tell her, she’s about to tell them but they leave soon after telling her because they have stuff to do and also they would rather speak to Aisha once she’s “calmed down some.” The next time she has time to tell them, shit with Valtor starts to hit the fan and it gets put on the backburner.

By the time Nabu shows up, it’s pretty rough. Once Aisha realizes who he is she’s mad because of course she is, this is the person she’s expecting to be with. Nabu is understanding of this, and gets it completely, especially since he originally lied about his identity. Aisha does take a breather though and they talk it out some. He wanted to see who he was arranged to marry like in the show, and Aisha says she honestly never wanted to see him, and he laughs and says that’s fair. They do end up having a “best bros” dynamic though eventually. AIsha tells him about Musa, and he says he’s so sorry about this whole thing and eventually they do meet up with their parents like in the show and they talk to them about everything finally and their parents tell them that the arranged marriage isn’t necessary in the end. It works out and Aisha and Nabu do a sickass secret handshake they made and all is well. The relationship between their kingdoms is also really strong regardless of marriage too due to their eventual life long friendship.

Aisha also eventually talks to Flora some about how she should go about asking Musa out and about whether or not she thinks it would be a good idea and Flora and Chatta (ESPECIALLY CHATTA) are doing EVERYTHING they can to not blurt out that Musa hasn’t been able to shut up about liking Aisha for over a year and a half at this point. 

Over the season their relationship continues to get stronger. 

TW: talk of e*ting disorder. Please skip this paragraph if that is triggering to you. I will have the next paragraph start with -paragraph over- so skip to that if you would like

I also have a thing in my version where Musa struggles with an e*ting disorder some just do to anxiety and insecurities and that was one of the ways those things ended up manifesting (that’s how it was for me and I’ve put a little bit of myself into each of these gals and pal (Tecna is nonbinary in my version and although they’re fine with being perceived as a woman and is cool with she/her pronouns and general slang terms like “gal,” “dude,” “bro,” etc., they still prefer overall being acknowledged as a nonbinary person by people who don’t know them very well (all pronouns are cool with them also. This stuff I just mentioned is how I am as a nonbinary person and I thought it fit Tecna too). This is why I have her looking a little thinner in my earlier sketches, since those take place in season 1 and 2. Aisha goes out of her way to help her however she can and Musa feels guilty but eventually Aisha just tells her to accept the help because she cares about her, she knows that Musa wants to get better (she started wanting to really work to stop skipping meals in the middle of season 2 and being less afraid of putting on weight. Her relationship with Riven wasn’t helping her mental state and this was around the point where she realized things probably weren’t going to get better unless she worked really hard on both herself and with setting better boundaries. Aisha was the only one to know about her skipping meals more than was healthy as it ended up coming out on one of their many late night heart to heart convos they like to have) and because it isn’t taking a toll on her mental health, and she promises to let her know if it does (Aisha also learned more about healthy boundaries during her time with the winx way to go, queen). They do meal preps together, get a healthy workout routine that doesn’t involve Musa dropping dead from exhaustion every time, and they get help pamphlets and Musa ends up seeing a counselor on campus to get some help and by the middle of season 3, things are a lot better, and while it’s still something that Musa is going to struggle with off and on during her life because that’s how this stuff tends to work, she has the tools to help herself better and she also has a really good support system and knows therapy is still an option if she needs it after her time at Alfea. The rest of the winx find out eventually too and are, of course, super supportive and proud of her.

-end paragraph-

The main takeaway from that paragraph is that Aisha and Musa are very close and supportive of each other and that I mention Tecna is nonbinary (all pronouns acceptable, although tends to prefer they/them)

Along with that being yet another huge thing that relates to them wanting to help each other grow and become better people, they just end up realizing that if they could choose a day where they could choose anyone to spend time with for the whole time, it would be each other.

By the end of their third year at alfea/the movie (unsure which yet exactly, but it’s in that time frame) they get together and they stay together for the rest of everything:)

[fuckingfinwions]

#3 russingon au? 👀👀👀

(from this)

Prince Fingon is about to come of age.

Feanor is a blacksmith (not anyone related to the king) in the small town of Formenos.

A royal messenger comes to the town to look over all the unmarried boys of appropriate age range as a potential private companion for the prince.

Maedhros, Maglor, and Celegorm are all about the right age, though Celegorm is on the young end and deliberately sabotages his chances because a palace sounds stuffy.

The messenger looks everyone over and asks some questions. Maedhros and a couple of the others also get asked if they have all their teeth, if they ever had the pox and if it scarred. Then the messenger rides away and that’s it for a while.

They don’t forget about it, because Feanor rants at dinner about how the royals do nothing and steal the work of honest men in taxes and now want to steal their children, but it’s not on the top of anyone’s mind.

There’s a lot of boys in the village, and though Maedhros is aware that he’s the handsomest of them, there’s a lot of villages in the kingdom.

It’s a month later when the messenger comes back, this time knocking on Feanor’s front door.

Maedhros is to go to the capital city and meet Crown Prince Fingolfin. If Fingolfin approves of him when they meet in person, Maedhros will become Prince Fingon’s private companion. If Fingolfin doesn’t approve, Maedhros will be sent back.

Maedhros kind of wishes he didn’t have to go be a glorified personal prostitute, but it’s a great opportunity. He’ll be in the capital with it’s libraries and art and people from all over. He probably won’t be allowed to talk to anyone important, but still it’s amazing.

And there’s not a whole lot keeping hm back at home. He’s competent in the forge and can make horseshoes and such, but not especially talented, and Caranthir is old enough to be a proper apprentice. He’s not dating anyone, and though he’ll miss his family he doesn’t have any very close friends

Sidenote: In the upper class, there is a very strong emphasis on heterosexual-virginity before marriage, and monogamy during marriage until you have at least three undisputed children, to ensure inheritance. In the lower class and outside the capital, it’s more common for teenagers to have bit of fun, and if you need to marry in a hurry because someone got pregnant so it goes. (This is apparently a not-elves au).

The messenger says that he’ll bring by the carriage for the journey to the capital in the morning, Maedhros can have a day to pack and say his goodbyes.

Feanor is not happy with this, even though it’s “temporary” and Maedhros will go back home once the prince marries in 5-10 years. 

Maedhros knows that pointing out that Feanor legally has to let him go will not make things better. There’s a lot of arguing, and Maedhros is able to mostly focus on what his free time might be like rather than what his new job will be.

(And Maedhros knows that if he admits he doesn’t want to go in Feanor’s hearing, Feanor will do whatever it takes to make sure it doesn’t have to. It’s nice to know his father cares, but it means he doesn’t say any of his doubts or even fully articulate them to himself.)

So in the morning Maedhros has a couple of apple crates full of his things and gets in the carriage.

He has a lot of time to think about what this will be like. Maedhros has heard that King Finwe is tall with dark hair, maybe Prince Fingon will look like that? (And should Maedhros call Prince Fingon by his title or just his name? Would it be seen as unbearably rude to forgo the title, or horrendously stilted to use it during sex?)

Maedhros has wondered what sex with another man would be like, but a reputation for it in his town would mean he might never marry and be alone forever.

Other things Maedhros knows about the royal family: all of Feanor’s anti-government rants. Fingon is the oldest prince. The cobbler two villages over traveled to the capital to visit her aunt, and said the princes were tall and had clothes woven out of silver instead of cotton.

Maedhros knows that the prince will of course be ugly and lazy, never having to work a day in his life, but someone nearly as tall as him would be nice.

“How old is Prince Fingon?”

The messenger looks at Maedhros like he’s an idiot.

“It’s two months until his seventeenth birthday. That’s why you’re here, to be his companion and be a good place for him to direct his adult urges as he comes of age.”

“I knew that, I just wasn’t sure when exactly he was considered of age.”

“The royal family doesn’t live their years any faster or slower than you do, kid.”

“I’m just not used to it being sudden. In Formenos, you don’t marry until you can support a house together, unless she gets pregnant in which case you build a cabin in one of your fathers’ yards and live off them until you’re ready.”

“The Prince is too young to marry, hence finding him someone to have fun with.”

“Of course.” Maedhros keeps quiet for the rest of the carriage ride so he doesn’t look like a complete fool. (Whether or not he wants to do this, he’s too proud to not try his best.)

They reach the capital, and there’s enough notice for Maedhros to change into his best clothes. He wore them to the festival this spring, the bright red tunic has flowers embroidered along not just the neckline most of the chest and stars on the sleeves.

Maedhros is expecting to be outclassed by Crown Prince Fingolfin, of course, but he might as well but on his best clothes.

Fingolfin is wearing a simple chain necklace made of more gold than Maedhros has ever seen in one place, even as a smith’s son. The shirt behind it isn’t embroidered, someone actually wove the cloth out of different colors of thread so it fades from an indigo near Fingolfin’s face through to a blue and then near turquoise at the hem.

Fingolfin calls Maedhros’s attire ‘rustic’ and asks him a few questions, though most of them have already been covered by the messengers.

Fingolfin then says he’ll make his decision in the next few days, there’s a temporary room for Maedhros in the servants quarters. He’ll be brought his meals, and shouldn’t go wandering (Fingon isn’t supposed to see his private companion until his birthday, it would spoil the surprise of his present.) And does Maedhros have any requests of Prince Fingolfin?

Maedhros asks if there’s a book of court etiquette he could study, either in his rooms or escorted to the library? “I know that of course I won’t take part, but as a private companion I’m supposed to be whatever Prince Fingon wants. If he wants to talk about his day sometimes, I'm sure he’d rather do so without spending hours explaining the context.”

Fingolfin asks, “So you’re not trying to learn the rules so that Fingon doesn’t punish you for misbehavior?”

“If Prince Fingon wishes to punish me for any reason, I of course will obey. But I have no desire to behave in ways he would find unpleasant.”

Fingolfin nods and waves a hand for Maedhros to leave. Maedhros does, and a few hours later one of the servants brings by a book of etiquette. It’s aged with a cracked spine, as new books are even more valuable, but it was obviously replaced in the royal library for datedness or cosmetic reasons, not readability. This copy is one the palace steward uses for reference.

There’s nothing else for Maedhros to do, so he reads it cover to cover. (He can do arithmetic too, they’re useful skills in the forge.)

Fingolfin decides on Maedhros. He’s pretty and polite and articulate, and not one of the sons of a half-dozen merchant families that are trying to get an avenue to the royal palace. Friends with the future king is nothing to sneeze at, even if it’s a degrading sort of friendship.

So the night of Prince Fingon’s seventeenth birthday, Maedhros is waiting for him. He’s dressed in a dark brown tunic that Fingolfin selected to make Maedhros’s fair skin not look washed out, and red leggings to match his hair. His hair is in one long braid, so it can just as easily be out of the way or used as a leash. He’s not wearing any underclothes, and he opened up and oiled his asshole so that Fingon can take him immediately if Fingon wants. He’s nervous, and kneels by the door to wait.

He waits rather a long time actually, and eventually concludes that it won’t be too presumptuous to sit on a stool, as long as he gets up immediately when Prince Fingon enters.

In the mean time, Maedhros thinks. They say everything in the capital city is politics. Maedhros himself would never leave a new.., acquaintance to wait by accident, especially not as a first impression. Prince Fingon is obviously setting the tone for the next several years with Maedhros. Maedhros has to be where he's told and do what he’s told, and Fingon will acknowledge him only when the prince feels like it.

Maedhros figures he’ll know more when the prince show up, if he bothers to thank Maedhros for waiting or if he’ll go straight to removing clothes.

Fingon is not actually thinking about any of this. It’s his coming of age! There’s a feast and dancing and drinking and all his friends and the whole focus of the night is on him. He knows he’s getting a private companion, but Fingolfin hasn’t given any hints about what exactly they’ll look like and Fingon has a lot of other presents right in front of him.

Fingon doesn’t worry about the hypothetical private companion’s comfort, because this is the palace, it’s got to be better than wherever the guy came from. Whoever it is can relax on a feather bed for possibly the first time ever and eat fancy food rather than plain bread, Fingon arriving a few hours earlier or later will make no difference.

Fingon is Nice, and is used to people knowing that. If everyone knows you’re a nice person, they give you the benefit of the doubt that thoughtlessness was not malice, and inattentiveness was not disrespect.

People have been telling Maedhros that Fingon is nice, but he expects they’d tell him that anyway. Everyone wants Maedhros to please Fingon after all, so they’ll frame everything the best way possible. They also say Fingon is determined, which Maedhros interprets as “never listened to the word no in his life”.

It doesn’t matter, Maedhros reminds himself, because saying no would be illegal anyway. If Fingon is the type to just push past that if Maedhros is not in the mood, it’s better than being thrown in the dungeons.

Eventually Fingon comes back to his bedroom.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Final Four: The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck Review! or The Batman Trial Episode but with Ducks, Sharks, And the Fonz

Hello all you happy people and welcome to the penultimate Ducktales review... for season 3 anyway. I still have most of season 1, all of season 2 (I did cover one but I’ll probably redo it), the tie-in comics, the 87 series, and even then i’ll never really be done with ducks between all the scrooge comics and other duck related shows like Darkwing Duck and Quack Pack. But as far as covering the show as it comes out as i’ve done for the past year, that’s’ts almost done. It’s honestly just starting to hit as I type this: this is the second to last episode. After next week while there’s always fan fiction (And I certainly aim to contribute to that), a possible Darkwing Duck Reboot under frank (though that’s in doubt) where they could show up, and a movie down the road given what we saw with Phienas and Ferb and the show’s popularity it’s still not the same as getting these well animated, well crafted adventures every week with breaks or the ocasional entire week of them. The show won’t go on, and whatever happens with the property next is a mystery no amount of ducks can solve. 

So with all that in mind naturally this episode is a breather episode: It’s not unimportant: like the rest of the season it ties off a lot of loose ends, adds in some stuff we didn’t know we wanted, and in general feels necessary like every episode this season. It’s something I credit the season for immensley: They knew this would probably be it so while they had more stories to tell, they made sure if these were their last, to leave no loose ends. And outside of ones they just never wanted to address in the first place like “What happened to Donald’s parents”, “Why was every trace of Della missing despite Scrooge’s search for her having just ended”, and “What did Della thing of the decades long seperation”, they’ve tied up pretty much all of them except for FOWL and what Beakly was lying about, and I feel both are about to ducktail into one another int he finale. Could be wrong but  I applaud them for tying off almost every loose end and character arc by this episode that isn’t related to FOWL in some way. Not every show can do that: She Ra was a masterpiece but still had a few things like Scorpia and Catra’s broken relationship, Hordak’s reformation and Adora’s Parents just left up in the air due to time constraints, Steven Universe ONLY got to go back and answer a lot of questions because they were lucky enough to get an epilogue mini series, and Star Vs... was not as good as either show by the end and by the finale about 80% of things it’d brought up all had the following answer:

My point is it’s VERY hard, even when you know the end is coming to tie everything up in a neat bow. And I can’t know how good the finale be or how satsifying it will be but given how well this season’s wrapped everything up so far,  i’m betting on immensely. But we can talk about that when it finally comes around next week. For now we have a trial episode to talk about that’s mostly good.. mostly. See why the mostly under the cut as I discuss and recap the episode with full spoilers.  Count it down!

We open in the Mansion, where a bunch of tribble like Fuzzy creatures are running amok. Unsuprisingly, Scrooge bought one for Louie as a pet to teach him responsiblity.. again. And once again he instead turned into a get rich quick scheme, didn’t read the manual and now they have an infestation. 

ONCE AGAIN, Louie is written like he’s barely changed at all in the past three seasons. Anyone whose been following my reviews regularly knows this has been a pet peeve of mine for the entire season. Despite having an ENTIRE arc about Louie growing as a character and learning the human cost of his scheming and to use his angle seeing talent’s wisely, the writers keep writing him as if he learned nothing. I went back to track it and while not as often as it felt I noticed a few things. The first is that it WASN’T like this for the first half of the season. No really. He even learns brand new lessons in The Trickening and Louie’s Eleven. Granted he also exploits his uncle in Louie’s Eleven but that’s mostly played for laughs.. still not a great bit but not a major part of the episode. 

So he was fine for the first act of the season... but then for whatever reason from Let’s Get Dangerous onwards (Again I don’t count the Christmas episode as both of those are meant to slot in anywhere and chronologically take place before this season for the timeline to make any sense), he’s just...

He’s utterly insufferable in his small parts of the first half of Let’s Get Dangerous! as he berates Huey for daring to look a gifthorse int he mouse.. even though everytime he’s seemingly got something for nothing or minimal effort it’s backfired and it’s something that seeemd to stick with “The Richest Duck in the World!”. He’s fine in Impossibin and alright in split sword as while he clearly hadn’t learned lying isn’t the best policy we at least got a good story out of it. He then went right back to obnoxious with New Gods on the Block where he, EPISODES AFTER THE SOLEAGEO FISACO again thinks an easy way out is the right way, and has NO guilt over possibly killing a bunch of people with his gold powers and in fact is disapointed he dosen’t get to keep a living being turned to gold!. He spents all of Fight for Castle McDuck being a huge dick to Huey AGAIN iwth no lesson, and now has yet another family endagering get rich quick scheme he feels no remorse about. 

I will admit when I”m wrong and I DID think it was in way more of the season than I thought. And let’s face it in real life personal issues don’t just go away and you can sometimes slide back, i’ve done it way too many times and i’m not proud of it. We’re only human. But this isn’t real life, this is cartoon ducks. And cartoon duck wise most character development has stuck or if a bad trait’s come back it’s been in a new way. Webby is still trusting, but knows how the world works now and while idolizing scrooge dosen’t think he’s perfect anymore. Huey is no longer a skpetic towards the super natural and hasn’t forced a party on anyone. Dewey hasn’t craved other people’s love or thought he needed to earn his mom’s love again. And that’s just the other kids. They aren’t the same people theyw ere going in, neither is Louie. So it’s grating when an episode acts like h’es exactly the same, let alone almost a fifth of the season.

What makes it even worse though is that he had an ENTIRE STORY ARC dedicated to learning some of these lessons already. With the others if one episode were forgotten i’d let it slide as it happens with tv, i’m used to it. It’s not a great look but it happens. Mistakes happen again we’re all human. But you can’t act like an entire arc of a series didn’t exist. While they ignore Della’s history somehow being hidden for the rest of the show they don’t ignore that Dewey spent a whole season looking for her, as he never hides something like that from his brothers again nor do they, and he’s out of them the biggets mama’s boy. While they did take a while to adress Lena, partly because the episode got pushed back, they didn’t act like season 1 never happened and she was still working for her aunt. Della still isn’t on the moon and Owlson still isn’t working for glomgold. Actions. Have. Consequences. That’s the whole point of this episode, but they act like none of it got through to louie and it makes his arc feel like a giant waste in hindsight. This episode even feels like it was SUPPOSED to be in that arc: Louie is back to his season 2 characterization, Scrooge is actively trying to mentor him again.. it just feels really out of place as our second to last episode in that way and drags it down a bit.

Thankfully after Scrooge bars the door, and possibly leaves everyone to their deaths but he presumably has enough faith in the kids, the twins and Beakley to take care of it, he gets a summons to court.. and gets kidnapped. He and Louie are whisked away to a mystic court presided over by a giant statue of justice holding scales, that judges someone based on Karma. Scrooge’s foes have brought him to court, blaming him for being evil and if he looses he looses EVERYTHING. And their proscutor? 

Sadly not Droopy, maybe next continuity, but searing the same Hannibal-Esque Getup is Doofus Drake to Louie’s horror. As for why he’s like this.. he thought iht was fun. Great gag. 

After the credits we find out why he’s doing this: He’s still pissed about Louie taking half his inheritance and giving it to his family, so he’s going to take LOUIE’S inheritance. It’s.. honestly a great setup: Doofus was already a villian I liked, being a nice weird evil mirror dewey instead of a walking fat joke like last series. So I was glad to both see him pop up one last time to make it a full trilogy of apperances as an angonist and to see him take a step up from his passive roll in the past: in his first two apperances while he was evil and abusive, and still is, his evil was mostly due to his own warped logic, feeling he could put shock collars on and control people and that Louie lying to him was enough to warrant making him into a pinata. He’s still a bad person mind you: kid or not he ensdlaved his parents, tried to enslave louie and goldie and in general REALLY needs some help empathizing with people. But my point is that before he didn’t come after anyone.. so it’s a nice capper to have his final turn as antaognist be him going after our hero.. and at his most dangerous. Before someone would’ve come for Louie eventually in Doofus’ first apperance and Goldie would’ve found a way out or Scrooge, despite grumbling about it, would’ve helped.. if nothing else than to lord having to save her from a 12 year old over her. Here if he wins the family is out on the street and three of their greatest enemies are now infinitely more well funded. 

So while naturally unnerved by his rival Louie offers to defend Scrooge who denies it despite the fact that Louie is REALLY good with words, and Scrooge, while not bad with them, can’t stop shouting and keeps pissing off the baliff, played by my boy Henry Winkler whose done a lot of voice work and also played Fonzie on Happy Days, is currently on the HBO series barry and in general is just a fucking delight. The irony is also not lost on me that he’s not playing a lawyer here despite being one on arrested development. 

We get our first witness: FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD. Hell. Yes. It’s nice to see him in his full glory one last time, as I don’t know how much he’ll be in the finale. Scrooge blows of the Duke Baloney thing, which is fair given that while Scrooge screwed up there, Glomgold still stole money from him right after and then spent his whole life trying to one up him. But Glomgold has a different tale in mind as he stole something else from him: the limelight. 

It was 1980-something and Glomgold was a bonified celebrity in Duckberg for his hot dogging, grandstanding and treasure hunting loved by all and took Baba Wawa, a nice mix of Barbra Walters and the parody of her on SNL by the late Gilda Radner, to a shark shaped cave to get the gem of the shark god, a ruby tooth at the end of the cave. Naturally Scrooge popped up and easily made his way through and stole the spotlight. As it turns out he wasn’t always well loved and it makes sense: he dismises Baba asking him about how disliked he is, and dosen’t care and even in the current story, or rather season 1 of it, he dismiseed PR entirely in Jaw$. He was rich enough and enough of a job provider he just didn’t see the need for fame or glory, that just came second so it’s logical no one liked him. Fortunes naturally reverse as you’d expect though: Glomgold dashes forward and ends up putting Baba and her camerabird in danger and being Glomgold he irrationally assumes she’s working for Scrooge and leaves her to die. Scrooge however, after getting the rock, goes out of his way to save her because it’s the right thing to do. He can be selfish at times, and as we’ll see monstrously so, but at his core Scrogoe is a good man who will do right when the chips are down. So this leaves Glomgold trapped and Scrogoe getting his good press instead and realizes he likes the attention. 

As the flashback ends Glomgold fills in the gaps, pointing out he was stuck with the sharks for days, but slowly bonded with them learned from them and they became family, helping him with traps, joining him for thanksgiving and even getting a heart taatoo with a shark on it. Awww. Look I didn’t really need to know where Glomgold’s love of sharks came from, nor that he had some weird tarzan origin story with them.. but my life is 100% better knowing all of this so thank you Frank and Matt. Thank you. I’m also entirely convinced the two have had this whole part of his backstory ready to go for three seasons and were waiting to use it, along with the other two bits we’re about to get to. This episode as you can tell is also a vingette episode, but one where the wraparound is way more improtant than usual.. but it works given the setting and allows the stories to be as long as they actually need to be, and it addds some nice stakes instead of just having Scrooge’s villians gripe about him. 

Scrooge protests and the Bailiff puts a clamp on his beak, so he has no choice in the matter when Louie steps up for the defense. Louie also proves that irresponsible he may be.. he’d be a damn good lawyer, as he easily picks things apart, pointing out Glomgold was ALREADY bad by then, Scrooge had no intent to steal the spotlight and Glomgold is currently planting dynamite under his chair, with predictable and hilarious results. So he gets put on the “good” side of the scale. Next witness.

Next up is Ma, and I was delighted that as I’d hoped and theroized this episode wrapped up one little plot point that while not major, was something I was curious about: Ma’s claims Scrooge stole Duckburg from her family.  This was also likely the backbone of the episode at one point as Frank pitched a beagle trial episode at one time, but Disney nixed it. Likely the magic stuff was added both to justify it better and to distract Disney Channel’s higher ups because they constantly underestimate what a child will like. It was for the best though as the beagles are just a bit weaker here: While Character Actress Margo Martindale is a delight and was specifically cast for the role, overall it just feels like they ran out of ways to make the beagles a big threat and releigated them to muscle when needed, to the point they only appeared in one episode besides this one this season as with FOWL about, they didn’t really need villians of the week and what ones they did use like Glomgold and Mark were far more entertaining villains who needed a coda to their stories.They aren’t bad characters, but in a series where their breaking into the bin or mansion wasn’t a story the crew was interested in they served no real purpose. 

So we finally get answers about the whole Deed thing: It was sometime in Ma’s childhood, good look guessing when, and the Beagles owned Duckburg having clearly overwhelmed Fort Duckburg at some point in history between Clinton’s defense of it and now, with Grandpa “Pa” Beagle finally making an apperance. In the comics he was basically what Ma is to both series: the scheming brains behind the beagles who showed up on occasion and it was a good idea to use him as the past version of her. 

Scrooge naturally comes a calling and unsurprisingly Ma was lying: Scrooge offered to buy the place first from Pa, he refused outright, and then when Scrooge showed off the money he was offering, Pa bet the deed for it in an arm wrestling contest. Not only that but as Scrooge finds out as he almost looses, Pa was cheating having a smaller beagle boy operate pull a lever in a device attached to his arm to give pa extra force. Scroooge simply dropped a few coins to distract the guy and claimed victory and the deed. 

Little Ma is left dejected though and Doofus claims he ruined his life, but Louie steps up, at this poitn Scrooge has learned to reign himself ina nd accepted Louie as his defense without saying anything, a nice subtle bit. He probably realized that while irrepsonsible.. Louie has everything to loose her and no reason to slack off and dosen’t even relaly have to lie for his uncle to get him off: he’s simply using his ablitiy to see all the angles to poke holes in their story. 

Case in point, he orders the “tape” to continue and finds Little Ma berating her dad for his failure and forcefully taking control of the family. LIke Glomgold, Scrooge may of cost her something.. but it was something she and her family hadn’t earned and they were still on a bad road. Scrooge just made it worse. 

But suprisingly, its MAGICA, who we’ve established is an uncaring monster, who has a story Scrooge genuinely feels bad about. Like the rest she was not a good person: Long ago she and her brother Poe were extorting a villiage, and lording over it as gods, changing the population into goats, toads and other things. The only diffrence from what Magica would do to the blot and presumiibly others later, is that Poe reigned in her manical tend ices, trying to get her to think things through. The goat transformation was so they’d have milk and at least get something out of it and as to not waste all their slaves. Poe is voiced by Martin Freeman of The Hobbit and Black Panther fame. Great actor, does amazing work here.  So like the others Scrooge changed things, and fought someone with bad intentions for his own self. He talked Magica into fighting him with both amulets by playing into her ego and Poe trying to talk her down, and easily deflected her bolt with the dime to turn her into a crow with her own spell. So far it’s just like the other tales in a nice mirror.. it’s what comes next that makes Scrooge into a  bad guy too. Not as bad as Magica and Poe.. but sitll not good. Poe dives selflessly in front of the coin.. and shockingly while she cared nothing for Lena.. that wasn’t the case for Poe. Magica is truly devastated, desperatly trying to put the amulet back on and begging scrooge for help while he just ignores her and fills up his sack. And while they both deserved it... Scrooge and Louie both recognize he was wrong as the flashback ends with Poe escaping and Magica sitll haven’t having found him to this day. And props to Catharine Tate here a she takes a normally hammy terrible person who was wholly unsympathetic and manages to make her painfully human.  

What makes the act so terrible is not who it happened to, they both desrved it, but Scrooge’s attitude, utterly callous to magica’s pain with not a drop of sympathy. While she deserved it as did Poe.. he’s not doing this to her as some justice for her crimes, or because she did something horrible to him or any valid reason.. he’s doing it because he’d rather get more of her and poes gold than lift one finger to help someone who had , for all his evil, selflessly sacrificed himself for his sister. For all Poe’s evil and tyranny.. there MIGHT of been a good man in them, in both of them.. and Scrooge could’ve cared less. He shut the door on Magica ever becoming a good person, ever getting her brother back to line his own wallet and to satisfy his own ego. See that’s the true mark of a hero: how they treat others, even the worst of them. And in his lowest moment Scrooge could’ve cared less about anyone but himself. 

Scrooge feels bad and Louie does finally get the responsibility thing and this is where things start to go off the rails: he apologizes to Doofus and admits he dosen’t want an enteral rivalry and h’es sorry for any pain he caused. The off the rails part is because Doofus is genuinely not a good person, ahs done very bad things and is trying to bankrupt Louie for the crime of “taking half your fortune after you used it to torment and enslave your own parents’. It just.. dosen’t play as well as they’d like. That said I DO like both Louie deciding to bury the hatchet instead of just avoiding him and Doofus showing some nobiity in accepting it. Maybe he’ll change. 

He goes off into the night, and Scrooge genuinely apologizes and accepts repsonsiblity... and here’s where the plot finishing going off the rails and into someone’s living room: the bailiff AWARDS THEM SCROOGE’S FORTUNE BECAUSE HE ADMITTED SOME CUPLABLITY AND WAS HUMBLE. 

This just.. it makes no sense, it will never not baffle me and it hurts my brain> Yes he admitted some wrong doing and apologized for it.. but it was also THROUGHLY proven the other two weren’t his fault, and he was simply being a good man which should get him some good. Thankfully the conclusion is a bit better, as Louie points out while they made him, he made you so who made who, who made you... okay i’m getting into the AC/DC of things point is these incidents all shaped Scrooge into a better person.  His mistake with Magica. is clearly learned from. He’s stopping a group of bullies in Ma’s story and saving a life without a second thought in the second. He learned to value others, to value family all because THEY showed him what happens when you don’t. By seeing the worst person he could be.. he became the best. So the trial’s thrown out his assets are returned, and their teleported out before magica can hit them with lighting. Lesson learned.. well kinda Louie tells scrooge to do it because he got the pet. 

Final Thoughts for The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck:

Great title aside.. this one is a mess. It’s not a terrible episode: the flashbacks are genuinely engaging, each one helping flesh out the villians and in Ma’s case pulling one last dangling plot thread. Glomgold’s was just entertaining , clevelry using his 80′s origns for an 80′s style news special and giving us the origin to his love of sharks that we didn’t know we needed., Ma’s tied up a loose plot threat with a fun flashback and Magica’s was genuinely heart wrenching and did the tall task of making us feel for someone that terrible. The wraparound.. was a bit weaker. Doofus was the best part, playing an excellent manipulative bastard lawyer, and being a genuine threat and his walking away peacefully was a nice touch, and Louie having to defend scrooge was great and showed him off better than ever. And Louie did get some moments to shine.. it was just wierldy bookened with him acting terribly AGAIN, in a way he should know better than in an episode where he acts fine for most of it and even then he thinks lying to a judge is a good idea! I know he’s 12 but he’s not this stupid and while as I made very clear i’ve seen this shit before, I haven’t seen it flip flop in the same episode. Louie deserves better than this. 

But it’s also in service to a responsiblility aseop that just.. dosen’t work as presented. Yes you should take responsiblity for your past, yes you should learn from your mistakes and own up to them, I have, and yes it’s all too easy to slide back> That’s all fine.. but him apologizing to Ma, whose family was terorrizing a town, and Glomgold, who he did nothing to, and having Louie apologize to Doofus, who while he tried to exploit him still enslaved his own parents and deserved to loose half his fortune AND loosing half his fortune wasn’t even the main thing Louie wanted to do as his main goal was getting BOYD a loving family.. it’s bullshit. Just pure Grade-A bullshit. Why are you booing them their right. It’s a good idea for a moral but it’s executed so overwhelmingly poorly it bogs down what was otherwise an exceptional episode, into just passable.  It’s just mind numbing and saddening to know the next to last episode wasted so much good ideas on a clumsy moral. Thankfully I have hope the finale will be better, and again at least we got some good out of this one. 

Next Time: Endgame Baby! Clan McDuck and their Amazing Friends Vs F.O.W.L. for the fate of adventure itself! One last ride! I can hardly wait!

This week on the blog: Ducks Ducks and more ducks.. and a top 12 list of my faviorite superheroines later today’s for international women’s day. But after that we have more of the Della arc, the last step in the Lena arc before Shadow War next week, and the 87 ducktales pilot treasure of the golden suns!

If you liked this review, share it around, follow for more, and you can comission your own for 5 dolalrs an issue or episode, or kick in some money on my patroen, link on my blog. Even a dollar a month helps and my next stretch goal is 5 dollars away and if we reach it i’ll review both the super ducktales mini series introducing gizmoduck AND a darkwing duck episode a month. Until the next rainbow it’s been a pleasure. 

[let-it-raines]

Walking the Baseline (Year 2012)

Chapter Summary: He’s seen her around. Of course he has. They walk in the same circles, play at all of the same combined tournaments, and they have mutual friends. It’s not until they both win the Australian Open and start talking over Instagram that Killian Jones gets to know Emma Swan. He doesn’t expect one message to turn into more, and he certainly doesn’t expect to find himself knowing who Emma is when she’s not got a racket in her hands. 

Even more, he doesn't expect to let her know who he is off the court when that's a secret he holds close to the vest.

Rating: Teen-ish. 

a/n: I told you guys I had more Walking the Baseline coming, and I meant it! I did not expect you guys to be so excited about this universe, but you’re always blowing me away! So, here’s their story for part of the year 2012, four years before the events of Walking the Baseline and the RIO Olympics. 

You do not need to have read the original one-shot to understand. If you haven’t, well, that just means you’ll be surprised with the ending of this collection 😂

Found on AO3: 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 (Part One) | 2016 (Part Two)

-/-

2012.

“You look nice, Swan.”

She’s standing in front of him in a pair of long white paints and a matching white shirt that bares her midriff. Her lips are painted red, her blonde hair long and curled. It’s different to how he usually sees her, but the same can be said for him as he adjusts his jacket sleeves. They spend their lives in athletic wear with sweat an almost constant companion. They do not spend their lives dressed up like this.

“Same to you. How are you not dripping in sweat?”

“Oh, I bloody well am. It’s hidden under the jacket.”

Emma laughs and flips her hair off her neck. “Damn Australian summers. Been trying to kill me since I was eighteen.”

“But now you’re the queen of the court. Congratulations, by the way. That was a damn good match.”

She smiles and adjusts her trophy as he does the same, the flashes of photographers surrounding them and the water behind them. They’ve both done their individual photographs but are now doing promotion for the tournament and Nike, their clothing sponsor. Killian has the beginnings of a long flight today, and Emma has an even longer one to America. He believes she lives in Florida, but it could also be New York. Maybe California. He’ll ask Ariel if she knows, because he already knows she will have the answer to every question he asks. His manager knows everything there is to know about everybody. Somewhere in that brain of hers, Ariel Fisher has a file on Emma Swan that Killian has never bothered to ask about.

It’s not that he’s never been intrigued. She’s a damn good tennis player and a successful one at that. He’s watched her rise to the top of their sport for years now, and while they’ve done a few photo shoots and charity matches together, they’re never talked much outside of a professional capacity. He knows her brother is her coach and she’s close to Ruby Lucas, another player, and he’s read a little about her upbringing. That’s something she keeps close to the vest, but he gets it. He does the same thing. That isn’t the easiest when you’re on the world’s stage like they are. Now, everyone has to know the details of personal lives of athletes, and it makes staying private difficult when you have to brand yourself to get sponsors. Killian would rather run for five hours over doing an interview, especially now that he’s given twenty interviews since the championship last night.

It’s media overload in every way.

“Congratulations to you. I may have slept through half your match, but what I saw was good.”

“Thanks,” Killian laughs, scratching his chin. “I’m terrified that if I sit down, I won’t be able to get back up.”

“Oh, that’s definitely a risk. David had to slide me out of the bed this morning. I’m only wearing this because I was too lazy to shave. I was pretty sure I’d have to have help.”

He bites his tongue to keep from making the comment he wants to make and turns back to the camera, smiling and nodding, following the rest of the instructions. He and Emma are quickly pulled in different directions to finish out their obligations, and before he knows it, he’s on a plane, flying away from Australia. It’s been a month since he’s been home, and Oxshott has never seemed so good even if there is no one at home waiting to greet him.

-/-

Killian grabs a sweater from the shelf, pulling it over his shoulders, and heads downstairs where he fixes himself a cup of tea and settles on his couch, his television playing in the background. It’s been a long day. His first day back training after a week break nearly killed his knees, but that’s over now. He’s put in his time on the court and at the gym, and no one is going to bother him for the rest of the day. He’s muted Ariel’s name in his phone, and if she really needs him, she’ll call him from Eric’s phone.

God does he hope she doesn’t need him tonight.

Nemo better not either because Killian does not want to see his coach’s face again until early tomorrow morning.

Despite his sweater, he’s still chilled. Going from an Australian summer to a British winter is quite the adjustment. It’s nearly as bad as the jetlag.

Killian’s phone dings in his hand, and he dreads what message he’s surely gotten. He expects it to be Ariel from Eric’s phone, but it’s an Instagram message.

@EmmaSwan: Whoever said @KillianJones was photogenic needs to take a serious look at these photos.

He looks at the photographs, and it’s a series of horribly awkward faces he’s made. He remembers this moment of the shoot. A bug kept trying to fly into his mouth, and at one point, it succeeded. Emma looks great in them, laughing with a bright smile, and she’s right: there’s no part of him that’s photogenic there.

@KillianJones: So you’re saying there are people out there who think I’m photogenic?

Her reply comes instantly.

@EmmaSwan: Well, there were! ;)

Killian laughs and then clicks on her profile, scrolling through. She has several pictures from her win, a few training videos, but mostly it’s pictures of her with some of the women she’s friends with on tour or her brother and sister-in-law. His page is so different in that it’s made up of a majority of tennis photos. He doesn’t share much about his personal life there because there isn’t much to share lately, and when there was, he didn’t want the world to know who he was dating. They did, of course. There were few ways to hide it all when he had photographers literally hiding in bushes, but he imagines if it was a relationship he truly held sacred, he would find a way to keep it hidden away.

Milah was the last person he would have wanted that with, but she was a fan of the attention. She still is if what he sees around is any indication. She married some older man who is worth millions, but other than that, Killian tries not to keep up with her. Some days it goes better than others, but being disconnected from the world does help.

Social media definitely doesn’t.

And after looking at Emma’s profile a little more carefully, he realizes her profile is more private than he thought. In some way, every photo that has a person in it relates back to tennis.

Killian exits out of the app and goes to the link Ariel sent him of all the photos from his shoot with Emma. He clicks on it and tries to find one where she looks bad. It takes awhile, damn gorgeous woman, but he eventually finds one where the wind blew her hair in front of her and she’s making an awful face. It’s perfect, and Killian quickly saves it and a nicer photo to his phone before uploading them to Instagram.

@KillianJones: @EmmaSwan, if only your serve was as big as your hair.

@EmmaSwan direct messaged you.

@EmmaSwan: My serve stats are better than your serve stats.

@KillianJones: Lies.

@EmmaSwan: Okay, well, my hair is also better than your hair.

@KillianJones: Eh, I wouldn’t say that either.

@EmmaSwan: My ass is better than your ass.

@KillianJones: Now, I will fully agree with that.

@EmmaSwan: Isn’t it, like, midnight in England? What are you doing up, old man?

@KillianJones: Watching TV and having a cuppa. Truly exciting times here.

@EmmaSwan has added a picture to this chat.

It’s a shot of her legs, her feet resting on the court. There’s a pool of sweat underneath her, and he is not jealous. It’s February, and while he knows she lives in south Florida – he did ask Ariel – it shouldn’t be warm enough for anyone to sweat that much unless they put in a massive amount of effort.

He must be getting old for this game if just thinking about that makes him want to retire, but there’s no way in hell that’s happening anytime soon. He told Liam he would play until he no longer had a passion for the game.

That hasn’t happened yet.

@EmmaSwan: I’m making my mark on this court. I cannot wait to be in my pajamas watching TV tonight. If I can get up from this chair.

@KillianJones: I’m sure you can slide home in that lovely pool of sweat.

@EmmaSwan: Honestly, I have thought about it.

@EmmaSwan: I’ve got to practice my shitty serve, but I’ll think of smacking your face every time I do it. I’m sure my numbers will be higher than ever.

@KillianJones: Anything I can do to help.

-/-

“How do you eat your strawberries?”

“With my fingers,” Killian says, arching his brow at such a ridiculous question.

“You’re supposed to say with cream.”

Killian spins around behind him, and he immediately sees Emma Swan walking toward him. He hasn’t seen her in months as the tours haven’t had a joint tournament since Australia, but they’ve been chatting pretty regularly over Instagram. He’s never liked the app, but it’s one of his most used ones now.

“Excuse me, lass?”

“You’re doing a promotion for Wimbledon, idiot. They want all of us to say we eat our strawberries with cream.”

“I actually don’t love the cream.”

Emma mock gasps, covering her chest with her hands, before stepping up to him and giving him a quick hug he’s sure is for the cameras surrounding them. “Well, they should kick you out of England for saying something like that.”

“Believe me, they’ve tried, but I chained myself to the ground to keep it from happening.”

“I’m sure we could find you a place here if we had to.”

“Your place?” Killian jokes.

“In your dreams, Jones.” Emma widens her smile before turning to the camera. “I’d eat my strawberries with cream, just in case you want to use me for the promotions instead of this shameful excuse for a Brit.”

“Actually,” the producer behind the camera says, “we have a game that we’d love for the two of you to play together if you want. We usually don’t have two of the bigger names up here at once.”

“What’s the game?” Emma asks.

“It’s basically beer pong.”

Emma tilts her head back with laughter and claps her hands together. “Oh, I’m good at this. You’re going down, Jones.”

“Nice to see your competitive spirit doesn’t die off the court.”

“It never does.”

Emma shrugs and walks over to where they have a ping pong table set up on the roof of this building. Killian gets to travel a lot of beautiful places for his job, and while he doesn’t get to explore a lot of them, he does get to take in the view. He’ll never get over the oasis that is Palm Springs with its mountains going as far as the eye can see with palm trees and lush vegetation filling in so many other gaps. There’s a hell of a lot of desert, but considering Killian only goes between the tournament and his hotel, he doesn’t see that. For him, it’s all about the oasis.

“You ready?” Emma asks as they settle at opposite ends of the table. “It’s going to be a challenge to beat me.”

He winks and leans forward, hovering over the cups of water. “I do so love a challenge.”

-/-

“I mean, I wouldn’t say that you had a bad reputation.”

Killian rolls his eyes and toes his trainers off, kicking them across his hotel room in Monte Carlo. He pulls his phone away from his ear and puts it on speaker so he can change clothes while Emma talks.

“Then what would you say, love?”

He imagines she shrugs, and if he wasn’t disgustingly sweaty despite his shower at the club, he’d video call her instead of this. “I would say you had a colorful reputation.”

“For fuck’s sake, that’s the same thing.”

“No, no, it’s not,” Emma sighs. “It’s…”

“Swan, I was on the verge of getting all my sponsorships taken away at the age of twenty-two. I’d barely gotten started, and I nearly fucked it all up by drinking too much and being enough of an idiot to do it in public.”

“And now you’re England’s poster boy for all sports, so at least from a publicity standpoint, it’s all okay.”

She’s right. He knows she’s right, and he appreciates being talked down after an awful contract negotiation with one of his sponsors and what will surely be an equally awful conversation with Ariel later. They decided that they suddenly had issues with some shit he pulled six years ago, and he’s tired of having to explain himself to people.

His fucking brother died, and Killian didn’t handle it well. How is anyone supposed to handle that, let alone a twenty-two-year-old whose only family was that brother? It was too much, and while he didn’t tank his career, he did derail it, drinking and sleeping around and making horrible choices for his body. There are times when he still wants to do that, but he knows better now. His grief is private, and the world will never see it again unless it’s on his terms.

“My brother’s life was taken because of a drunk driver, and, you know, I’d give up all the sponsorships to have him back. I’d give it all up. And I know I did a piss poor job at dealing with my grief by getting drunk just like the man who killed him, even if I never got behind the wheel, but what was I supposed to do? It hurt too much to not be dulled.”

The other end is silent, and he focuses on his own breathing. It’s heavy now, and he can feel his heart thumping. He hates this feeling. He hates talking about his past, and he damn well hates having to talk about Liam like this.

He’s got no fucking clue why he’s talking about it with Emma, but she called right after the meeting and he spilled his guts out of frustration.

“I never met your brother,” Emma says so quietly he can barely hear her, “but if he was anything like mine, I can guarantee that he’d be proud of you for getting through it and continuing to move forward. Life sucks, Jones, and we all deal with those sucky moments in different ways. I, for one, eat massive amounts of icing and candy. I have an entire stash in a drawer in my bathroom so David can’t find it and scold me for it.”

Killian huffs and reaches up to yank his shirt off before falling back on the bed. He tugs on his hair before blowing it off his cheek. He needs a haircut.

“You keep icing in your bathroom? That seems unsanitary.”

“I promise it’s very secure.”

Killian hums and more silence falls between them. He doesn’t feel the need to fill it, but he does anyway. “I live alone, so I think I may not need to hide my icing stash. I’d have to get one first.”

“Cream cheese is the way to go. It’s, like, two dollars and all the calories are so worth it.”

“Have you ever considered making it at home?”

“I would give myself food poisoning. I can’t really cook.”

“No?”

“Absolutely not. Never learned how to do anything past the basics, and I’m not home enough to try. When I do, Mary Margaret always takes over so I don’t get food poisoning.”

“Where are we together next? Rome?”

“Madrid,” Emma sighs, and he hears a dog bark in the background. He’s sure she doesn’t have a dog, but maybe someone she’s with has one. Or she’s walking around her neighborhood. He never did ask what she was doing. Instead, he immediately started bitching about his sponsor meeting, and then they ended up here. Most of their conversations veer off track, so it’s nothing he isn’t used to. “I get there Monday.”

“I think the same unless I lose early here.”

“You best not. I have money on you.”

“Well, that’s a good way to get yourself suspended.”

Emma laughs, and Killian stretches out on the bed, flexing his feet. “Well, if you don’t tell anyone, I think I’ll be okay.”

“I swear I shall not say a word. Also, Swan, I don’t think we’ll have access to a kitchen in Madrid, but when we get to Rome, I’ll cook you something.”

“If I’m in Rome, I’m not wasting a dinner on your cooking.”

“We can eat two dinners then,” Killian suggests.

“I like that idea.” The dog barks again in the background, louder this time. “I have to go. My neighbor’s dog is walking over this way, and I have to give him my full attention.”

“Bye, love.”

“Talk to you later, Jones!”

The phone goes silent, and Killian closes his eyes. It’s been a rough day for a myriad of reasons, and all he wants is to sleep. His call with Emma has calmed him, as they usually do, but that’s something he often doesn’t like admitting to himself.

Getting involved with Emma would be complicated, and Killian isn’t sure he can do complicated anymore.

His phone buzzes, and he opens one eye to look at the message.

Ariel Fisher: I’m coming to talk to you because you stormed off.

Ariel Fisher: I have the key to your room, so make sure you’re dressed.

Ariel Fisher: I’m bringing dinner, so I know you at least kind of want to see me.

Killian Jones: I’m in the nude, and I’m not changing for you.

Ariel Fisher: It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

Killian Jones: That is your fault for walking into my bathroom without knocking.

-/-

Killian wins in Monte Carlo, and it feels good to have a trophy for the first time since late January. It’s only April now, and he’s only played three tournaments since Australia. Yet, he had higher expectations for himself for this year. It’s a great year by anyone’s standards, but Killian has really focused on his training this year. He wants another record year like two years ago, and if he keeps this momentum going, maybe he can do that.

That year, he’d worked off the motivation of heartbreak. This year, he’s trying to work off the motivation of doing something for himself.

Whatever keeps him in the game.

Whatever keeps him loving what he does like Liam asked him to do.

-/-

The thing about Killian’s job is that he’s constantly surrounded by bloody people. From when he’s playing a match to doing press to sitting in the living room of the houses and apartments he rents for some tournaments when he doesn’t want to stay in a hotel. Sometimes the only times he has to think are when he’s on court, which is ridiculous because that’s when he’s surrounded by the most people and is supposed to be focusing on his plan for the next point.

Tonight, Killian had planned on having Emma over for dinner, but Ariel, Eric, Will, and Rob have all shown up and are sitting on his couch watching the television and he’s desperately trying to get Emma to pick up her phone before she arrives. He’s sure Nemo and Al could show up any second by the way things are going.

“Hello?”

“Swan!”

“Hey, I was just about to get a car from the hotel to your place. Everything okay?”

Killian sighs and massages his fingers over his forehead. “It seems my team and my mates have decided they’re spending the night with me, so if you want to stay at the hotel, I would understand.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. Of course, you can still come if you want.”

“Is there still going to be food?”

“Absolutely, but I don’t think I’ll be cooking it.”

“Then I’m coming,” Emma laughs. “Would you mind if I brought some people over as well? I can pay for their dinners.”

“The more the merrier,” Killian says, even if that is not how he intended his night to go. “See you soon, love.”

Killian walks back to the living area and settles down in an armchair, bracing himself for the onslaught of questions he’s about to get. “Emma Swan is coming over for dinner. She’s bringing people with her. I don’t know who yet, but I know she is.”

Slowly, everyone turns and stares at him, and Killian is already dreading everything about tonight.

“Why the fuck is Emma Swan coming over?” Will asks as everyone else nods. “I didn’t even know you knew her.”

“How would I not know her?”

“Oi, you know what I meant! You know her, but you know her in a way that has you say hello in the hallways, not that you invite her and her mates over to take our food.”

“You were not invited here tonight, Scarlet.”

“I am always invited.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ariel sighs, holding her hands up between them. “I need more of an explanation. How did this come about? Are you dating Em – ”

“No, A. Bloody hell, no.” Killian stands from the chair and straightens out his t-shirt. “We got to talking about food one day, and I casually invited her over. Believe it or not, I can have other mates besides you lot.”

“Your personality says otherwise,” Rob teases, and Killian rolls his eyes.

“Alright, alright. What should we get delivered for dinner? A little bit of everything?”

“I still have so many questions,” Ariel tells him.

“I have no more answers. I’m going to order food. You guys can keep watching the match.”

“Isn’t this who you play tomorrow?” Rob asks.

“Mhm, but Nemo will take enough notes and give them to me, so I don’t have to watch the match too closely.”

Killian walks away from the living room and goes through the contacts in his phone for the restaurants he likes, and once he settles on one, he orders several meals for delivery, chatting with the owner and promising her he’ll be in to see the entire team before he leaves Rome.

There’s a knock on the door, and Killian glances out the kitchen window. He can see Emma, Emma’s brother, and her sister-in-law. He was expecting Ruby Lucas and Anna Jergenson, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Her family is nearly always with her.

Ariel gets to the door before he does, hugging and greeting everyone. She knows David and Mary Margaret from constantly working with Mary Margaret over management collaborations, and while this is a large industry, there is always going to be overlap amongst certain people.

“David, nice to see you,” Killian says, walking into the room and taking David’s hand before kissing Mary Margaret’s cheeks. “Mary Margaret, beautiful as ever. Hey, Swan.”

“What? Am I not as beautiful as ever?” she jokes as she embraces him. “I got all dressed up for this. I’m wearing leggings that don’t have any holes in them.”

“I thank you for your effort.” He pulls back and winks. “I’m sorry for the slight change of plans, but I guess I’ll give you food poisoning another day.”

“Can’t wait.”

Killian guides them into the living room, where it’s a mess of greetings and jumbled conversation, and Killian settles himself back in the chair in the corner, watching everyone talk. They’re in the middle of one of the busiest stretches of the season, and it’s nice to have a night where he can relax. He has a match tomorrow and possibly even more depending on how tomorrow goes, but he tries to forget about those. That’s something Killian is still working on. Liam was the one who usually made him forget, and while his mates, many of them under the same pressures, do a damn good job, there are rarely times when his mind doesn’t race with the possibilities of how everything good in his life can slip away.

Killian rents this house in Rome every year because it was Liam’s favorite, so this week is always a particularly difficult one when everything reminds him of his brother.

When the food arrives, Killian spreads it around the kitchen and gets out a few bottles of wine. He won’t drink tonight, but others might want to. They fill their plates and settle back in the living room, the match that was at the forefront now in the background as Rob and Will take the piss out of each other for how badly the mangled the Italian language while asking for directions earlier today.

“I didn’t grow up speaking two languages! I’m still learning!” Will grumbles.

“You trained in Italy for most of your childhood.”

“I have no excuses for Italian, I know. I do speak French pretty well.”

“Oi, and none of us have to wonder why that is,” Rob laughs.

“You’re all wankers.”

“Why does Will know French?” Emma asks him from her seat next to him.

“His girlfriend is from France.”

“Ah,” Emma sighs, picking up a piece of ravioli and putting it in her mouth. “This is delicious. Much better than whatever it was you were planning on cooking.”

“I’m going to prove you wrong one day.”

She shrugs and puts her plate down on the coffee table next to her glass of wine. “If you say so. Where’s the restroom?”

Killian points to the hallway behind the kitchen. “Second door on the right.”

Emma nods and stands from her seat, walking away toward the bathroom. He gets a notification on his watch that he’s got a text from Nemo, and it looks like a long one. Sighing, Killian moves away from the conversation and down the hall to his bedroom so he can text Nemo back. It’s an analysis of his opponent for tomorrow, and Killian skims through it. He’ll read it more in the morning since his match isn’t until the afternoon, but if he doesn’t text Nemo back now, he’ll call until Killian does. The man is a damn good coach, but he can also be high-strung.

The bedroom door clicks behind Killian as he closes it, and at the same time, Emma leaves the bathroom. The two of them are nearly pressed together in the close quarters of the hallway, and Killian aligns himself against one wall while Emma does the same with the other. Still, he can feel her foot brush against his, and he is close enough to see the freckles on her face.

Those freckles are what have himself tilting closer, his breath intertwining with hers, and for every movement he makes, Emma makes an equal one, the voices in the background fading away as Killian focuses on the flutter of Emma’s lashes and the subtle twitch of her lips. He mirrors her, curling up one corner of his mouth and teasingly tapping his lips.

“Please,” she laughs, “you couldn’t handle it.”

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

Emma studies him as heat swirls around them and tickles up his spine, pulling him closer to her. He watches her, waiting to see if she’ll do something, but he expects her to make a joke, to turn away like she sometimes does when things get a little too serious between them when they’re talking in person instead of over the phone. She doesn’t always do that, not when he’s the one sharing, but when it comes to her, she’s more guarded, holding everything deep within.

Emma Swan is constantly subverting expectations, however, so when she pulls on the collar of his shirt and tugs his mouth to hers, he takes a moment to reciprocate.

Bloody fucking hell.

Emma is kissing him.

And she’s damn good at it too. Killian reaches up to thread his fingers through her hair, pulling and tugging until he can take a little of the control back from her. She’s a demanding one, and while he can’t say he minds, he would like a little control too. Her lips are soft, and she tastes of wine and the spices of her ravioli. He could get lost in it all, especially when she moans in response to him backing her up against the wall. Her back arches, and Killian rolls his hips as Emma’s kiss teases him. The friction is fucking amazing, and it would be so easy to take a few steps to the right to his bedroom and…

Suddenly, Emma pulls back, lingering in his space, breath hot against his skin, and Killian can feel a smile tugging at his kiss swollen lips.

“That was – ” Killian mutters, leaning in to kiss her again.

“A one-time thing,” Emma quickly tells him, shoving at his chest until he backs away, a mountain of space between them. “I’m going to go back to the living room. Actually, I think I need to go home. I have an early training session tomorrow.”

“Swan – ”

“Thank you for dinner. It was great.”

Then she’s gone, blonde hair falling away, and Killian can’t move from his spot, standing there with his fingers against his lips. He listens to her tell David and Mary Margaret she’s ready to go, listens to her telling everyone goodbye, and then she’s gone, the front door shutting behind her.

What the hell just happened.

And when did he fall halfway in love with Emma Swan?

Fuck.

“What happened to your hair?” Ariel asks when Killian gets the strength in his legs to walk back to the living room.

“Nemo,” he lies. “His analysis for tomorrow had me tugging on it.”

Ariel studies him like she doesn’t believe him, but then she’s back to drinking her wine and talking to Eric, her life going on as normal even when his isn’t.

-/-

He gets blown out of the water in his match the next day.

He can’t compartmentalize his thoughts, putting the personal behind him and the professional in front of him. That’s been the key to all of his success. No matter what’s going on in his personal life, he can always lace up his trainers and take the court, leaving all of that behind him.

Today, it’s like everything that’s happened to him in the past decade has come flooding back, and Killian wants nothing more than the floodgates to stop.

-/-

Emma doesn’t respond to any of his texts.

He pretends it doesn’t bother him as his team leaves Rome and flies to Paris, immediately preparing for Roland Garros. Killian can fuck around at other tournaments on occasion, but he can’t do it at a major. There are only a handful of those to go around, the importance of them will never be lost on him.

Even if sliding across the clay is the last thing he wants to do right now.

“Smaller steps,” Nemo yells from his place on the sidelines. “You’re going to fuck up your ankle if you run like that.”

Killian adjusts his footwork and keeps moving, sweat slicking down his back as the crowds around the practice courts fill in while more players keep showing up. When he sees long blonde hair in her trademark braid three courts over, his step nearly falters.

It doesn’t.

He can’t.

If Emma is going to put distance between the two of them, he’ll let her. He had a life long before he began talking to Emma Swan, and he’ll have one if she never talks to him again.

He’s a liar if he says that his world would be anything other than miserable for awhile.

-/-

Killian crashes out in the quarterfinals of Roland Garros, and he immediately puts it behind him, bracing his shoulders for a month of grass court tournaments in his own country, where the pressure is always highest.

Sometimes it can be suffocating, but he has to do it.

-/-

“Okay, now that you’ve answered all of our questions, we want to show you a little video clip,” Chris McKendry tells him while Killian adjusts the mic resting on his ear.

“It’s never good when you tell me that, Chris.”

She laughs, as fake as always, but Killian goes along with it. “I promise you’ll enjoy this one.”

A producer for ESPN hits play on the video, and Killian keeps his eyes glued to the screen even as someone slides several bowls of strawberries and cream in front of him. The video of he and Emma from California plays on the screen, all of the promotional work the two of them did that day after she took the piss out of him for his answer to how he ate strawberries and cream. Killian forces a smile on his face, not allowing the cameras to see him slip, because this is what he does now. He’s a perfectly polished PR machine. If he’s going to show emotions other than happiness, they’re going to be either on the court or behind the scenes with no cameras rolling. They are certainly not going to be here.

“So, Killian,” Chris laughs as the video rolls, “we thought it would be fun to bring you some strawberries and cream with a spoon to eat them.”

Killian chuckles and takes the spoon, scooping up a large helping of the strawberries and cream and eating it. It’s not bad. He doesn’t like it, but it’s not the worst thing he’s ever had to eat because someone has asked him to. And the faster he plays along, the faster he can get out of here.

“I think I’ve got it right now,” he jokes, “though I know my last answer went viral because I failed all of Britain with it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but we are giving you this chance to redeem yourself so you can have this crowd behind you for the fortnight. With your draw, I think you might need it.”

“Draws don’t always hold up, but nevertheless Chris, I’m ready for the challenge.”

“You always are.”

-/-

She’s fucking incredible to watch.

She moves with grace but with incredible power underneath her feet and determination set between her brows. Her play gets better with every match she plays, and Killian is mesmerized by it even if he’s been avoiding her matches over the past few weeks. But now she’s on Centre Court, and her match is playing on the screen above his bike where he’s cooling down from his match. There is no avoiding it, and he can’t say he wants to at the minute. He’s obviously a glutton for punishment.

He’s seen her draw, knows that it’s just as difficult as his, and while she might not win here, the Olympics are just around the corner on these same courts. He can’t imagine her not winning at least one of the two.

Then again, he is aware of his bias, but he is also aware of Emma’s skill.

Killian grabs his phone and takes a picture of her match, posting it on his Twitter, which Ariel has told him he has to use more since he “needs to interact with people online.”

@KillianJones: She’s graceful like a swan but also just as vicious. What a match to watch on my cool down. @Emmaswan is the type of player every kid should try to emulate when they pick up a racket

It’s an olive branch.

If she doesn’t take it, Killian will be fine. He may have fallen hard and fast, but that doesn’t mean Emma did. She is free to take things at her own pace, whatever that may mean for the two of them.

-/-

@emmaswan mentioned you in a tweet.

Killian swipes across his screen and opens Twitter, where he sees a picture of yesterday’s match. It’s from high above in what is obviously a private room, but it’s still clearly him on court, pumping his fist after a big point, the crowd standing all around.

@EmmaSwan: @KillianJones, I don’t think any of these people like you. You should try to get them on your side.

He laughs and falls back on his couch. He’s not well liked in a lot of places, but in his home country, he knows that as long as he’s winning, he has the country behind him.

No pressure.

@KillianJones: @EmmaSwan maybe you could help me out. How do I get the crowd to like me?

@EmmaSwan: @KillianJones cook them a home-cooked meal. It’s the way to everyone’s heart.

Killian nearly drops his phone. She’s joking. She has to be. This is the first time he’s so much as talked to Emma in weeks, and she either doesn’t realize the magnitude of her words or is sending him a clear message.

Emma has never cared much for subtly.

He closes out of Twitter and texts her, hoping he’s not fucking up the olive branch she took by snapping it in half.

Killian Jones: I’m making salmon tonight. It’s just me here tonight. I promise. Do you want to come over for dinner?

Emma Swan: How good is your salmon?

Killian Jones: It’s good.

Emma Swan: I’ll be there.

-/-

Emma Swan walks into his home like she belongs there. She steps inside his front door, removes her trainers, and easily walks to him in the kitchen, propping her hip against the counter while he prepares dinner. They talk, mostly about work, and Killian tries to act as unaffected by her presence as possible. The last time they were this close to each other, he had Emma pressed up against a wall. It’s been over a month since then with very little communication, and Killian constantly feels like a bucket of ice has been dropped over him.

He still doesn’t believe she’s here when he is clearly having a conversation with her.

They eat dinner on his couch, the television turned low in the background, and the conversation stays stilted. If Killian is honest, he wants to sink into the cushions and have this night be over with, but he knows better. Either this night firmly cuts the ties between them, or it ties the string back together.

He knows which one he wants, but he dare not speak for Emma.

“This is really good,” Emma says as she scoops up some of her remaining salad. “Thanks for cooking.”

“Thanks for coming over.”

“It’s a really nice place. I bet it must be nice to be able to stay home for a month while still working.”

“Yeah, it is.” Silence falls between them again, but it’s not comfortable, not like it used to be. “Look, Swan, I – ”

She holds up her hands and places the plate in front of her on his coffee table before twisting around and crossing her legs under her on the couch. “Don’t.”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t say it. Don’t apologize for doing something wrong when I’m the one who made out with you and then ran away. I fucked things up between us, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Do you want to fix it?” he suggests, knowing the line he walks is thin.

Emma shrugs, sheepish smile on her lips. “I don’t know. I don’t – I mean, I like…you’re…we’re…I don’t know, Killian. I am obviously not the most emotionally aware person, but I care. I care about my family, my friends…you. I care about you. Like, a lot, which was unexpected.” She leans forward and buries her face in her hands, all of her words coming out muffled. “I don’t know how I can do this without messing things up between us where we’ll be avoiding each other while having to walk the same circles.”

Killian arches his brow and stifles his laugh. He shouldn’t be laughing. This isn’t funny, but there is something comical about it.

“What I’m hearing is that you fancy me.”

Emma peeks out from behind her hands, and she glowers at him. “Seriously?”

Killian shrugs and leans forward, grabbing her hands and slowly intertwining their fingers. “I have no bloody idea what I’m doing either, and I don’t mean to upset you Emma. I really don’t. But we make quite the team. I think it would be foolish not to try, but I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That’s really fucking unfair to make me make the decision.”

“If I did, you would find a way to turn it around on me.”

She digs her nails into his palm, but he doesn’t flinch. “Asshole.”

“I would agree with that assessment most of the time.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but there’s also determination there, green, blue, and gold all mixed together to create the emotions hidden just below the surface. “We don’t tell anyone. Like, no one. I don’t like my private life to be public, and if we tell other people, it’ll become public. I’m already risking a hell of a lot possibly being with someone who I’ll have to see on tour if things get fucked up, so I want a safety net even if this doesn’t solve every issue.”

“You’re a romantic.” She parts her lips to protest, and he squeezes her hands, leaning forward and lingering in her space, closing half the gap. “But I agree with you, wholeheartedly. I was with this woman, and – ”

“We don’t have to talk about our pasts right now. I’ve got a match at one tomorrow, so we sure as hell don’t have time to get through everything. I’m also not entirely sure I trust you with everything yet.”

“You shouldn’t,” Killian half jokes as his lips ghost over hers, “but I hope to earn it.”

“Good,” Emma whispers, wrapping her arms around Killian’s neck and pulling him those final few inches toward her until her lips are softly gliding over his, pulling him under as pleasure trickles up his spine.

Good. This is all damn good.

They have no idea what they’re getting into, but Killian can’t wait to figure it all out.

-/-

-/-

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[ishouldreallybeelsewhere]

okay so that loki video essay thing was going well, and then like a day into writing it i lost the hyperfixation so it's never gonna be finished. i still think it's alright, completely unedited, entirely a train of thought, i hope you like commas and pacific rim, it's only 2.8k

btw if something doesn't make sense, i was writing this while watching some video essays, and also haven't read it

Introduction

Loki is a show, well you know that, but a show that does everything right, until it doesn’t (crazy, I know). If you’re here, I assume you’ll already know a fair bit about it, but if you don’t, here’s a quick refresher. Spoilers for everything MCU.

Loki begins in 2012, technically, just after the Avengers go back through time from Endgame to meet themselves and grab the infinity stones. Unfortunately, the plan goes awri, and Loki ends up in possession of the Tesseract, the mind stone. With this, he teleports to a desert in [a place] and is quickly arrested and apprehended by the Time Keepers for ‘Crimes Against the Sacred Timeline.’ Sounds a bit cult-y if you ask me, and given that you’re stuck here, you will ask me. Essentially, his actions (taking the tesseract) were not supposed to happen. They created a branch, a new timeline, and, according to the TVA, if left unchecked, the timeline could cause a multiversal war that would result in the end of time. This is, to put it simply, a very interesting premise, and the first two episodes do a wonderful job of exploring the TVA and searching for the mysterious Loki variant who causes chaos and mischief, all while evading the time cops.

What is the TVA? Well, it’s the Time Variance Authority, which clears up nothing to those who haven’t seen the show. I would let a clip explaining it play, but I think I’d get a copyright strike, even though I’m fairly sure it’s within fair use. Regardless, the TVA is an organisation supposedly created by the Time Keepers, space lizards who brought together all of time into a singular sacred timeline. Had they not done this, time itself would have ended, how they did this is unexplained, and likely either impossible, or they are greater than gods in their power. Loki is immediately doubtful, but can’t deny that they must hold some power, because not only does his magic not work in the TVA, but infinity stones are useless too. Time is also stranger there too, more an idea as opposed to a set part of their reality. Many theorise that they reside within the quantum realm, which makes sense, as that is how one travels through time, at least in the marvel universe, but we can’t be sure until we get an explanation. Of course, I’m writing this long before I’ll see the finale, so who knows, perhaps I’ll have to rewrite it.

Now I’ve said all that without explaining what the TVA actually does. It’s pretty simple, similar to Stephen Hawking’s (???) ideas of the multiverse, every decision you make has the ability to make another timeline, one that is not part of the sacred way of time, and therefore must be pruned by the TVA before it grows enough to cause another multiversal war, despite multiverses being well-established in the MCU, but I know that’s different. Or perhaps the Time Keepers are lying (spoiler, they are, just not exactly in that way). Anyway, when someone makes a decision or takes an action that creates a new timeline, the TVA arrives. Minutemen arrest the ‘Variant’ responsible, despite their lack of intentional crime, and prune the new timeline, which we are told destroys it. Then Variants must stand trial for their crimes, in which they can either plead guilty or not, but really, that doesn’t make much difference, as they’re unable to make a case, let alone get away as innocent. Before they reach the court, however, Variants are dressed in TVA jumpsuits, have to sign off every word they’ve ever said, and a snapshot of their temporal aura is taken, for some reason. Yeah, it’s not really ever explained why they have to go through all that, like, why don’t they just prune them all, or just send them straight to court. It seems like they’re putting on a big show for nothing. Of course, if you have to go through all that, you probably won’t have time to think about the whys of your situation, which I’m sure the TVA uses to their advantage.

Now, we’re heading into real spoiler-y stuff, just in case anyone here hasn't watched episode three. If you haven’t, why are you here? Go, finish the whole series, and then come back. Alrighty. Now that everyone’s seen it all (apart from me at this point) we can continue.

Everyone working at the TVA is a Variant, and they don’t know it. The Time Keepers are said to have created everything within the TVA, every analyst, Minuteman, and whatever the other roles are. But that’s not true. They’re all variants who’ve been taken from their own timelines and had their memories wiped. This gives an explanation for the courtrooms, and the process to get into them. Robots will be melted from the inside out if they go through the temporal aura machine thingy, and I have a feeling it’s harder to reset a robot’s memories. Living beings are let through, and their actions in the courtroom could give a good overview of their strengths and intelligence, so it can be decided whether they’ll be pruned or ‘reset’ which we are told is killed, but with the information of them all being variants now available, is more likely having all their memories hidden, replaced with the idea that they’ve been at the TVA their whole lives, and that they were created by the timekeepers. Though why would space lizards create workers in the image of humans instead of like their own lizard-y selves. The TVA as a whole, as we are introduced to it, feels very cult-y. Things such as the videos Variants are shown upon being arrested, the whole ‘Sacred Timeline’ thing, the Time Keepers being viewed as almost gods, and that when one of the TVA’s own minutemen is told the truth (C-20) she is, well, removed. The TVA views Variants as criminals of the highest order. How dare they violate the sacred timeline?!!? Only, no variant knew that what they were doing was wrong, or that it even mattered, but if you’re late to work on a day where you weren’t supposed to be, then you’re removed from your timeline and charged. The sentence? Essentially death, or removal of all your memories and being lied to about everything, which might be worse depending on your stance on that kind of thing.

Anyway, the minutemen themselves are another issue that the TVA has. They respond with violence at every available opportunity, like when a young french child from the 1500s walks into a church, the first thing a minuteman does is reach for his weapon. This is also the scene where we’re introduced to my favourite character, Mobius, but more on him later. For now, I need to stay on track and keep in mind this part of the view has to remain consistent. All I can think of are the nerds I split. It seems I have an inability to stay on topic, however, I’m gonna try so you have fun keeping up with that.

Loki stood trial for crimes against the Sacred Timeline and, like any logical person may in that situation, relentlessly questions the validity of his conviction. The answers he’s provided with he just,, kind of,, disagrees with, which is fair. The concept of the TVA and the sacred timeline as a whole is absurd to him, as who would a god serve?

Part one: Glorious Purpose

Loki, in his own words, it ‘Burdened With Glorious Purpose.’ I’m so glad no one but me is gonna read this draft cuz I managed to spell many of those words wrong. His glorious purpose, in his eyes, is becoming the ruler of all, removing free will and choice from those beneath him, in a twisted attempt to make it easy for all living things. He believes in free will, at least, the free will of himself, and also believes that, out of everyone in the universe, he is the one who is right, the one who can make the world better, that is his burden. Now, you may look at that and think, ‘hey, for a god of mischief, that doesn’t seem very mischievous,’ and you’d be right. It isn’t. He’s evil, like, without a doubt, an evil person in his ideals and views of the universe, however, the change from mischief to villainy was rapid, as it’s shown that he was D.B. Cooper, and, when asked, said it was because he was ‘young and lost a bet to Thor’, which, like, okay, but that was the 60s or something. 50 years aren’t a lot in the face of 1,500, but a lot can happen then

Part something: ethics

So, as you’ve probably gathered by now, I’m a pretentious asshole, and with that comes three years of philosophy classes and a superiority complex, though perhaps that comes from the whole leftist thing. Anyway, as per usual, I got sidetracked. I’m watching a really good video atm, so lots of things are happening in my head right now. Back to being pretentious, I’m going to be talking about ethics, fun, and how that relates to the TVA, the sacred timeline, Kang, sorry, he who remains. Regarding the whole Kang thing, I haven’t read a single Marvel comic since I was a member of the comic book club 4(???) years ago. Gods, I’m so old. Yup Percy Jackson took up too much of my childhood. Sidetracked again! I apologise, anyway, everything I know about Kang the Conqueror comes from Tumblr, so I’m not going to spend any time talking about any parts of the character that aren’t shown in the show. I really want to be writing about Doctor Who right now but I have my notes up so I’m gonna do this. Okay, right. Ethics. I hope I don’t go into free will right now because I will never stop going on about that. Anyway, let's look at the TVA, ignoring Kang, not for simplicity, but to see if the ends do in fact justify the means as Mobius said. And by that I mean, if what employees of the TVA think is true, are their actions justified? Finally got to the point, after how many words? Too many, anyway, let’s start from the start (kinda).

In an actual, proper, organised essay, I think that whole last paragraph was supposed to be 1 (one) sentence long, maybe. I have been writing year nine level essays for many years, despite not being in year nine for many, many years, so, be glad you’re reading something I’m interested in. Back to the topic at hand, please. Sorry I just got distracted again. I shouldn’t have Tumblr open atm. Anyway, what are the TVA’s means? So, I’ve already explained what the TVA is, and what it does, but let’s use a fun example to show what they really do. Imagine you’re a kid (or maybe you are a kid, so imagine you’re a younger one) and you just got home from school. You just made an awesome new friend who believes in you and loves your art. This sparks your interest in art, leading to countless pieces, days and days spent drawing and painting and having a great time. Your art begins to take hold on the world, speaking to people, letting them believe in themselves, thousands upon thousands of people inspired to start their own art, to rebel against the system of capitalism and teach people that there’s more to life than a job. This begins the global radicalisation of the working class, and with that, rebellion and the downfall of capitalism. I’m in a good mood rn, feeling optimistic, so don’t worry about what’s happening. Anyway, with the downfall of human exploitation and eradication of poverty comes a branch in the Sacred Timeline, and as the root of it is you as a child making a friend, your 5-year-old self just committed a crime that, according to the TVA, is worthy of what they believe to be actual death, like, being pruned.

Now, this was a very umm, off-the-top-of-my-head example, and entirely makes no sense, but give me two seconds and I’ll remember my original point. Right. The risk of allowing the downfall of capitalism is the end of all time. Always. Maybe? But, in the eyes of the TVA, kidnapping a 5-year-old, putting them through a dehumanising process to be shoved in a courtroom and being accused of crimes against the sacred timeline, and what was the crime? Making a goddamn friend. As a child. Being supported in art. Doing what you enjoy, destroying oppressive systems that will eventually be the downfall of us all and so entwined with all the problems in the world that any chance of saving it revolves around its deconstruction. I’ve been hunched over too long and my back is really starting to hurt, but the essay must go on. And remember, the domino effect of that friendship never actually happened. The timeline was pruned before it could happen, so the crime is literally making a friend. Very extreme example sorry, but shock makes your point go across faster, and also sparks outrage, which I don’t want to happen, but with doing literally anything comes backlash, like stepping on the wrong leaf, or a butterfly. I hope you guys know that this is unplanned and probably unedited. Okay I need to watch Pacific Rim again. Okay imagine now they kill the child. Right. That’s likely what would happen. Children are weak (usually, Sylvie is just on another level of awesome) [author’s note, Crimson Peak is a horror movie and I’m very upset by that cuz now I won’t be able to watch it]. Alright, so, kill a child, or destroy all of time. Always. Maybe. The way we see the TVA in the first two episodes is through Loki’s eyes, as a cult-like lie with a cool retro/futuristic aesthetic (like Doctor Who, but more on that later). I have been sitting here for 4 hours and I can confidently say my cat is an asshole whose sole purpose in life is to want to come in right when I’m in the middle of a point only to not want to come in but allow me to lose exactly what I was about to say, meaning I’ve gotten next to nothing done. Hi, I'm back. I got distracted by My Little Pony and Pacific Rim. And checkers. Issues with pacing? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Okay, so, I’m going to say something possibly controversial. When the stakes are the endings of the entirety of time, it’s okay to let a child die, and technically they might not die they’d just be sent to be either devoured the void or saved by a ragtag team of loki variants. Which is not great. That might sound like I agree with the TVA, but trust me, I do not. Not in the slightest. I hate the slimy bastards. (I do love every single character though, like all of them are awesome) The prickly pricks will bury us all!!! I don’t agree with them because I think there is a better way to handle the multiversal problem and the issue that arises regarding the particular cause of the multiversal war. That made no sense. You’re really just gonna have to guess at this point, however, for the solution, we must look into the finale and the reasoning behind He Who Remains’ plan. I said I wasn’t going to talk about him, but I lied (rule number one). Basically, from what I understood of his plan (which wasn’t much, I’m pretty stupid) was that there were two options; option number one was to leave him there, looking over all of time, preventing free will, so that the infinite variants of him that would come from timelines wouldn’t once again attempt to conquer all of the timelines (though if there are infinite ones, how would that work? Just kidding, you’re not allowed to question this). He dictates all. There’s no such thing as free will, and if you dare veer off the path, you will be pruned, and your timeline destroyed. His plan is to hand that power over to Loki and Sylvie, because he’s getting old and has lived long enough. The other option (and the one that’s taken in the show) is to allow Sylvie to kill He Who Remains and let the multiverse unfold, allow free will and chaos to reign, with the possibility and established likelihood of the destruction of time itself. Now, just putting this out here, what if there was a third option? My proposition is based of knowing next to nothing and not having seen Loki in a while, and that is,

[calliecat93]

ST: TNG S6 Watchthrough Episodes 22-25

Suspicions: Crusher has been ousted as the CMO and doctor in general to the point that it sounds like she’s going to be court-martialed. Why? Well, the episode shows us as Crusher explains what happened to Guinan. She had been holding a scientific conference but during an experiment, a scientist dies. As more happens, Crusher decides to investigate on her own… which included performing an autopsy against orders when all else failed and against the family’s wishes. So… I love Crusher. She is nowhere near close to overthrowing McCoy as favorite CMO (or favorite ST character in general)… which since Pulaski is her only other competition ATM it’s not much, but still. She’s smart, determined, understanding, nurturing, a maternal figure, and while she may be shouty like her predecessor, she doens’t need to be to be an awesome doctor who will have her voice heard. Two people died under her watch and she will get to the bottom of it, knowing fully well that she’s risking her career by doing so. Seriously, McCoy would be proud! It’s a good episode that lets Crusher be plain awesome. She takes matters into her own hands, keeps investigating even after getting herself into hot water because it needs to be done, and she kicks the bad guys' ass and save herself at the end. Even Ogawa gets an awesome moment by giving Crusher access to autopsy files and endangering her own career to help her. Hell yeah, medical officer solidarity~! It’s not the most impactful episode, but if you love Dr. Crusher, this is absolutely an episode to check out~! 4/5.

Rightful Heir: Ever since Birthright, Worf’s been having a crisis of faith. He goes to reflect on this and has a vision of Kahless, a Klingon spiritual leader and he has returned. Yep, we have us a religious episode folks. Kahless causes Worf to find his faith again and view him as the savior that he is hailed as… too bad that Gowran isn’t convinced. Thos episode actually raises a lot of interesting questions to me. What happens when a spiritual figure returns? How do we explain things despite them making no logical sense? How can we be for sure that they are being truthful? And what happens when it all comes crashing down? Do you maintain the facade to keep up morale and allow the teachings to continue their intent? Or do you tellt he truth and cause who knows what kind of chaos? I can relate to Worf here. Especially in recent years, I’ve been having a major crisis of faith and in such a vulnerable state, it’s so easy to fall into something like this. Klingon episodes really like to delve into the complicated politics, huh? Also really liked the talk between Data and Worf near the end about faith. I agree with the sentiment that even if a claimed diety is proven a fraud or fake, the teachings still matter… but the fact that they ultimateley maintain the facade of Kahless kind of muddies it up. The Klingons get guidance… by a fake. Now to be fair the problems of this and what’ll happen if Kahless ever gets found out and Worf wants the truth known to the people, so at the very least it’s ackowledged. I feel like the realizations should have impacted Worf more than it did, but ah well. Overall it was fine. 3.5/5.

Second Chances: While on a mission led by Riker, the crew stumbles upon… Riker. Another one. Okay, long story short, Riker has stranded eight years ago, got rescued, but transporter hijinks created a clone who was left alone. I S2G, transporters are freakin’ horrifying. I actually thought that this was going to go down like TOS’ The Enemy Within, but they avoid that. This Riker, who we’ll call Thomas, has the memories of the Riker from eight years before. So he hasn’t undergone any of the six-season-long development that Riker has so he hasn’t done things such as reconcile with his father, become the First Officer, and he still has romantic feelings for Troi. Major praise to Johnathan Frakes here. Acting against yourself is never easy. We have gotten it a couple of times, Brent Spiner’s done it plenty at this point. But Frakes did a fantastic job as both Riker’s, the one we’ve come to know and the man that he used to be/would have become had he remained stranded. Thomas and Troi’s interactions are sweet and really give us a nice glimpse of what Riker and Troi’s past relationship had to be like… although it is kinda awkward considering the older Riker’s presence and all. What would it be like to interact with an alternate past version of yourself? Riker is much more collected and in charge than he was then but also plays it safe more, while Thomas has more of the cockiness and immaturity that he did back in the early days but is also far more daring. In the end, things don’t work out with Thomas and Troi as Thomas chooses his career just as he did in the past and Troi’s not willing to thro the life she has away to marry him. Poor Troi cannot catch a break. This was an interesting one. I feel like Thomas should have been more affected by the fact that he was alone for eight years, but I also like that we don’t go for the whole evil/insane plot either. It was really cool to see the older Riker against a version of himself who didn’t end up on the Enterprise, the mature take on Riker and Troi’s relationship and how we’ve avoided every standard pitfall they couldhave fallen into, and we even avoid killing anyone! Hooray~! 3.5/5.

Timescape: As Picard, Data, Geordi, and Troi are returning from a science conference… but find the Enterprise and a Romulan ship frozen in place. There are some weird time distortions going on and after rigging up some bands to keep themselves un-frozen, they try to get to the bottom of it. This was a fun one! It’s cool yet creepy to see Picard, Troi, and Data going through the Enterprise (Geordi’s manning the shuttle, he gets to go on the Romulan ship though) and seeing all the insanity that was going on, including Crusher being shot at point-blank range… okay that’s on the horrifying end of the scale, but still. Don’t worry, they avert her dying for realsies! Picard also loses it and his mental breakdown is just plain freaky. Troi was freakin’ awesome in this one, getting to do actual Starfleet officer things, be actively involved, and they bring back up Face of the Enemy and Troi’s experience with the Romulans and their tech prove very beneficial! Yes, let’s keep the awesome Troi train running! It was just a fun episode and for the penultimate one of the season, it serves its purpose well~! Also Riker does not get along with cats haha. 4/5.

Alright, one more for S6 to go and along with it we start S7. The beginning of the end is nearing folks. I’m so excited~!

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep.2 - Ghosn escapes to Lebanon

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, this is the second installment of The Freedom of Expression. Um, Joe san, Tasai san, here we are again.

J, T: Yep *laughing*

J: Why are we laughing at that?

K: Well, somehow, while I was introducing you two, I was wondering whether I should also introduce the third, no, fourth person..

J: I see, I see.

K: I thought I'd leave it at that.

K: Yes, lets leave it there.

Kami: No, don't leave it there.

J: Ah, of course, we try to ignore him, he'll appear.

K: Ahh, but during the first episode, there were times without him, weren't there?

J: Sure

Kami: Ah, but I was just being quiet. I was waiting until the end to come in.

J: I see.

Kami: You played right into my hands

*everyone laughs*

J: We played into your hands? This god has a nasty personality, doesn't he? *K laughing* A god saying that?!

Kami: Of course you would tell me I have a nasty personality.

J: This god is surprisingly small, right? *K laughs a lot*　..saying such things?!

K: Okay, so lets get to the freedom of expression, the concept which we started on the radio and are now doing on youtube. Last time was our first try, how do you think it went, for anyone interested?

J: Well, just how DID it go?

T: Right, I'd like to know the reaction.

J: Yeah, I'd like to know. I'd like it to spread on social media.

K: Yes, me too.

J: Please, by all means, share this for us!

K,T: Yes

K: Right, well for our first item, over to you Tasai san.

T: Well, this is news from Tokyo Sports newspaper..

J: Oh, from Tokyo Sports? Like, is it a UFO or a monster kind of story?

T: Well, I know what you mean, but its not that today. Its about (Carlos) Ghosn.

J: Was Ghosn a monster?!

T:*laughs* No, no, no, its not that.

J: Really?

T: It was really big news at the end of last year. The news that Ghosn escaped to Lebanon. Firstly, what did you think about this, Joe?

J: Oh me? Well, Im one of those that thinks the Japanese judiciary system is terrible, so I thought it was convincing.

T: Ah, I see.

J: Of course it was an illegal thing, but for someone as rich as Ghosn, I think it was nothing.

T: Well, as for Ghosn, he is now in Lebanon, but its been said in the news that the recent worsening of relations between America and Iran will be really bad for him.

J: Can Tokyo Sports really report such a serious story? *K laughs*.

T: Yeh...We have to report this kind of thing.

J: Right

T: So, America killed Iran's number two, General Soleimani in an explosion, and with Iran calling for revenge action, the tension is such that, people are fearing WWIII breaking out. With the current leader calling on Lebanon's Shia military organization, you know the organization Hezbollah?...there is a possiblity that Lebanon could become a battle ground...in which case Ghosn would lose his place of saftety and he would have to flee from there, and might get arrested in a different country. Thats the story, how Ghosn might still be facing danger.

J: I see, direct.

T: Its really like a story from a movie.

K: Yes, thats right.

T: Hiding in a musical instrument case..

J: For sure!

K: A band came to his house right?

J: Yes, yes, he was having a party.

K: Yeh..and like hiding in the case...its interesting isn't it? *everyone laughs*

T: Its a case for a very large instrument, and the makers of it have issued a warning, that this case is not intended to be used in that way. *J, K laugh*

J: But there are not many people who escape overseas, its impressive!

K: Yeh, it really is like a movie.

T: Its great...there is even talk of making this into a movie.

J: Ghosn's story?

T: Yeh

J: Wow. Kaoru, have you any thoughts about this Ghosn news?

K: Well, while being quite simple, the scale is outrageous *laughs* I wonder how much it cost..

J: Oh, probably a considerable amount...its been said that it seems like his fortune has decreased..but it probably hasn't disturbed him too much.

T: On the issue of bail, he paid 15 billion yen, which was apparently further confiscated, but Ghosn probably doesn't give a damn about that.

J: Probably not

K: When he came out, he disguised himself right? Its also kinda interesting from that angle.

T: Oh, dressed like a cleaner, right?

K: Yes, yes, yes.

T: It seems like he thought it would work

J: Well, another thing is, the Japanese judicial system is said to be a so called 'hostage judiciary'. In Japan, the prosecutors have the right to charge people with a crime, but out of all charges made in Japan, 99.9% are found guilty. In other words, if you are charged, the court case is more of a formality, you will almost never be found innocent. It equates to one out of a thousand cases being found innocent. Now, as far as I know, the conviction rate should be a bit lower, ninety-something percent, but if you lower the conviction rate much, the authority of the prosecutors is suspected, as if the original charges were wrong. Its difficult, but a conviction rate of 99.9% is quite extraordinary. So with the fact that prosecutors have so much power, and with this 'hostage judiciary', so called criminals are pushed to confess. At first they are questioned without the presence of a lawyer, and there are many cases where foreigners confess to the crime, even if they havn't done it. The police will say to people, 'you are not leaving here till you confess'. Now, if you really didn't do it you could provide your evidence to the court, but in Japan, the court will take a self confession as the strongest evidence. So, in the end, once you've said 'i did it', you might as well have done. And even if you later say 'i didn't do it', it will only be seen as a lack if repentence, you will not be found innocent...and Ghosn must know all this. This court case is predicted to go or for 5 or 10 years, and say, if it was ten years, his life is already nearing its end. Whether its right or wrong, he probably arrived at the conclusion that he had no choice but to escape.

T: He can do it because he has money.

J: Exactly

K: Ah, its turned into that kind of conversation.

J: Eventually, yes. We are not all equal.

K: But, couldn't you say it would better that he had stayed in an orderly place like Japan?

J: Yes, yes, especially if the place he has escaped to becomes a war zone. Theres a chance that Japan might end up being the safest place for him.

T: Which do you choose, an approaching war with your freedom, or a safe place facing a court hearing?

K: Oh this is gonna be a movie.*laughs*

J: It seems likely...But who would play Ghosn? Who looks like him?

K,T: *????* 1*

J: He's the only one who could do it! If it was dramatized..

K: It makes you wonder how Japan could let this happen, Ghosn was probably surprised too.

T: So for people who are out on bail in Japan, they do sometimes make them wear gps locating device, or restrict thier movement. It seems like Ghosn has really thrown Japan into disorder.

J: Hmm, in Japan, whenever there is a happening, the measures taken against it are often 'too much'. So, if you talk to people in other countries, recommendations will differ. For example, in France or somewhere like that, a traffic accident happens, and someone dies...Well, i mean, if it was in Japan, they would install a pedestrian crossing and traffic lights, which is ok in itself, but if you do this type of thing too much, it starts to get inconvenient. But if it was overseas, a traffic accident where someone dies, they would just warn people to be more careful next time. Rather than doing sonething physical, just encourage people to be safer, and after that finish with it. In Japan, they would definitely either install facilities or place equipment, measures to prevent it happening again, but on the other hand if this is done too much, you may eventually end up with restrictions on you speech or movement, so thats something we have to be careful about.

K: Mm, if you blame other people or things, you may end up losing your sense of self responsibility.

J: Things primarily happen due to our actions, we need to remember that, but people will end up blaming other things, for a sense of security. This becomes a vicious cycle, I feel.

T: This has been excessive recently, funny stories about celebrities being criticized for saying certain things, and then nothing happening.

Kami: Um, is it wrong to be on Ghosn's side?

T: No, I think its ok.

K: Its a personal opinion.

Kami: If you were on his side, he might give you money if you ask him *everyone laughs*

T: What a wierd opinion for a god!

J: You really are working for money, aren't you!

Kami: Well, I just thought if I was rich I could be in control of everyone.

J: I see, I see.

Kami: Like if I told people to cooperate with me, they would say, yes, yes, and just do it.  Like, I would say to Tasai san, can't you write a nice article about me, and throw over a bit of cash..

T: I would be quivering

K: *laughs*

J: If it was Hiranabe san, you'd have to take him to dinner.

Kami: Yeah, I've a feeling he would say, 'Ghosn was right!'.

J: I guess so.

Kami: I mean, even if the story in the media is a joke , if someone said 'I'll give you a billion yen if you do it', you would do it right?

J: Well yes..a billion.

Kami: The real god, wouldn't be like that of course...but I'll do it for small change. *everyone laughs*

J: How much would you help Ghosn escape for?

Kami: About 10,000yen.

J: So cheap!

Kami: Its because I know my capability.

T: Isn't god supposed to be all powerful, and all knowing?!

Kami: No, I can't do anything.

J: A god who, can't do anything, strange isnt it?

Kami: Its because no-one worships me.

J: Ah, I see.

K: Aren't you just a regular old guy then? *lots of laughing*

J: And here's me thinking we were getting somewhere deep!

Kami: I only know one deep thing about this. Straight after he was interviewed by the Juicial minister, the minister said that Ghosn will have to prove his innocence, right?

J: Yes, that was mistaken, wasnt it. Completely wrong.

Kami: The rest of the world media heard this, and thought Japan was in the wrong. It is in the wrong, right?

J: Well, that person was orignally a lawyer, um, I dont know if the youtube viewers are aware of this, a defendant doesn't actually have to prove anything. Its the prosecution side which has to prove the guilt. A defendant doesnt prove his innocence at all. So if a harsh sentence is given, that means the prosecutors did thier job, and if guilt isnt proved, that means the prosecutors couldnt prove it. There is no legal situation where a defendant has to prove thier innocence. So, the justice minister saying Ghosn must prove his innocence was probably seen as ridiculous by the rest of the world.

Kami: Well, it is if its said by the justice minister.

J: Well having that kind of person in such a high position, can the rest of the world trust this country? Its a wierd story, the world's mass media have been laughing, can that kind of guy really become justice minister? But as you said, maybe he's just expressing Japan's inner feelings about this. Oh, Kami is gone! * laughing*

Kami:*laughs*  No, I was listening attentively. I was listening, and thinking, he had to run away from Japan.

J: Oh, right.

T: I see.

Kami: Yes, get away from Japan..consumption tax has risen too of course * everyone laughs*

J: Well, yes.

Kami: The Olympis will cost money too..

T: And theres that iternet tax.

K: You know a lot, dont you kami?

Kami: Ive been saving money *everyone laughs* I never have enough.

J: Are you a poverty stricken god?! *lots of laughing*

Kami *stifled laugh* Don't say that.

K: Ok, well lets wrap it up here, the second episode. Please tune in next time.

J,K, T: Thank you very much.

1* I don't know who they said here.

[avwrites4ever]

Fantasy Setting Idea - Classic Japan (Heian Period)

It’s a New Year! And what better way to start it off than gush about something I love! I hope you will enjoy it too, and get excited, because I’m bursting with ideas!

I’ve even gushed about this to people at my work, the poor things. That’s how excited I am.

I just love discovering new writing ideas and hoping someone will do something wonderful with them. It doesn’t have to be me. Just someone.

So.

The Heian Period.

Also known as the Golden Age of Japan.

I think it’d make a fascinating base for a fantasy setting. So would ancient Korea, if the movie Ramage taught me anything.

*NOTE: This isn’t a history lesson. I’m just examining broad strokes of certain elements of culture & setting which I think would lend themselves to a fascinating fantasy story.

(Although there is a History of Japan in 5 minutes video at the end.)

Fun Fact:

The Tale of Genji, written during this time period, is probably

the world’s 1st novel.

The 1st novel. Ever.

Written by a court lady in Heian Japan, no less. She is known as Murasaki Shikibu, but that’s a nickname (her real name is unknown.)

Chiefly, I’ll quote from Royall Tyler’s intro to his translation of The Tale of Genji.

And if I can find my copy of The Pillow Book, written by Sei Shonagon, I’ll include that too. (Please don’t confuse with the film of the same name, which is not the same AT ALL.)

Here’s a summary of The Pillow Book:

http://cup.columbia.edu/book/the-pillow-book-of-sei-shnagon/9780231073370

*Not sure if this is the best translation, I just like the summary.

*Note: Translations are tricky, & often if you don’t like a translated text, it might be because the translation is bad, and not actually the fault of the original work! Please keep that in mind while reading.

The Tale of Genji & The Pillow Book are both primary sources, by the way, meaning they were written by people who were actually living in the Heian Period!

(And both ladies were rivals of each other, which I find hilarious, considering I like both of their works.)

They’re not dry & boring either. Far from it. (I mean obviously, or I wouldn’t recommend them.)

I recommend The Pillow Book first. If you have a good translation, while reading, you’ll learn about how life was during the time, which will make reading The Tale of Genji easier since, being a novel, Genji assumes you live in the Heian Period and so know all about it (the inside jokes, the word play, the burns, everything.)

I also find Sei Shonagon a fascinating person. Very funny & clever. She journals like I do, only less randomly. She’s very interested in the world around her & all its funny, heartwarming, or baffling moments.

If not for the barriers of time & language which, funny enough, translation has more or less broken, I feel as we’d have some great conversations.

I love how real people in history are both very relatable & very different from us.

I mention these 2 because it was chiefly while reading the intro to Royall’s translation of Genji that I got the idea for this post. Though I was already fascinated by Heian Japan while reading The Pillow Book.

Though, if anyone is interested, I first became intrigued by Japan’s history while reading Rurouni Kenshin. Considering it’s a manga, consisting of pictures & text, you might start there.

(Though Rurouni Kenshin is set shortly after the Meji Restoration, which I believe is something like the start of Japan’s modern period, since samurai are in decline. But don’t quote me, I could be wrong.)

Anyway.

Also, Tumblr apparently doesn’t know what the Heian Period is, so few pictures here will be actually of the Heian Period, and doubtful if they’re accurate.

Actually, I’m using this as an excuse to put in pictures of Toshiro Mifune & old Japanese black & white films & pretty landscapes & cats & anime, because I can.

So! What about Heian Japan so intrigues my writerly brain?

Lots of things, naturally,

Certainly a fantasy world based around the Heian Period will be different from your typical western Medieval-esque fantasy settings which are so popular.

Yes, I’m brilliant, no one would ever have guessed that.

(Though speaking of Medieval-esque fantasy research has taught me those, such as Game of Thrones, to give a popular example, are actually closer to reflecting the Early Modern Period.)

See this link for better argument by someone more researched than me:

https://acoup.blog/2019/05/28/new-acquisitions-not-how-it-was-game-of-thrones-and-the-middle-ages-part-i/

https://acoup.blog/2020/12/04/collections-that-dothraki-horde-part-i-barbarian-couture/

I mean yes, I was surprised too that a person who claims to do their research apparently hasn’t, but here we are.

Speaking of which, take everything I say with a grain of salt, because I know nothing. Nothing!

By which I mean, I am not an expert about the Heian Period, or even Japanese history. For example, a lot of what I’m talking about will involve the perspective of court nobles & rich people, since those were both the characters in the primary sources & were what the authors were themselves.

I’d love to read a story where the main characters & people involved are peasants in the Heian Period. (And who stay peasants, & aren’t secretly royal or noble.)

I’m only suggesting this as a way to expand your mind beyond fantasy settings which have been done before.

I hope too that I’m not advocating cultural appropriation either (an easy trap to fall into.) If you think I am, let me know!

Now that’s all out of the way, here’s some specifics about what I love about the Heian Period:

It’s a Hidden & Secret World Insubstantial as a Dream, Structured by Social Manners & Rank

What struck me right away while reading The Pillow Book & The Tale of Genji is how closed their worlds are. Noble women especially lived in a world of curtains, panels, blinds, and  paper, silk, or bamboo screens, and walled gardens. People speak to each other not only through these divides, but also through messengers / servants.

What connects all these things are how fragile they are.

As Royall writes in his introduction to The Tale of Genji, even in courtship, (pg. xix):

“He cannot see her, and he may have no idea what she looks like. He will not normally see her even if she speaks to him in her own voice, since she will still be in another room, behind a blind and a curtain, and the curtain will remain even if she allows him into the room where she is.”

Seeing another person is very intimate. This makes it very easy to build up mystery and intrigue of a person before you actually meet them. Catching a glimpse of them or a snatch of their voice, or the hem of a sleeve from under a screen can be electrifying. Especially of a gentleman to a lady, or vice versa, because of all those blinds and screens and so forth. Royall mentions this in the introduction to his translation of The Tale of Genji. 

“If he then takes it upon himself to brush her curtain aside and go straight to her, he will by that gesture alone have claimed something close to the final intimacy.” (Introduction, pg. xix.)

What prevents him, of course, is a combination of good manners & reputation. Royall writes, “Good manners maintained a proper distance, which amounted to unholding the accepted social order.” Loss of reputation could mean loss of friends and entertainment and wealth, even exile. Having other people to talk to or play games or music with was essential.

Introducing ghosts, shape-shifters, and uncertain magic to such a setting is only to be expected. (There is a ghost in The Tale of Genji.) 

Also note that then & now personal names were seldom used, & especially not in public unless by someone intimate with you (such as a family member or old friend) or the person was extremely rude. Instead, people were referred to by their rank and title or last name, or even the place where they came from. Some were even referred to by a number, for example, First Princess (Onna Ichi no Miya.)

Notes or letters were vital within such a formal social structure. Even more vital than text messages are today. For in notes, especially poetry, someone could speak from the heart. So much that even the type of paper used was important. For example, most romantic notes were written on thin, colored paper, often kept in the front fold of a robe. They could also be scented and contain a branch from a tree or flowers.

And of course, clever word play and innuendos were all the rage. People were also expected to memorize poetry, and judged if their poetry or writing wasn’t up to standard.

Anyone who loves words would excel here. Think of all the possibilities! Secret lover’s notes, inside jokes between friends, sick burns between enemies or rivals. Plots to overthrow the Emperor could happen in plain sight. Throw some curses and magic to the mix and see what happens. Having some sort of mystery would also work well.

Hope you enjoyed this & makes you excited about creating a unique, rich, fascinating fantasy world.

Or really any part of Japan’s history, which roughly goes like this:

Obviously, if any of this intrigues you, & you want to use Classic Japan as a setting, you’ll need to do research. And I mean it. Or I will hunt down some rusty spoons.

I’m serious though. The reason why I’m writing this post is, hopefully, other people can also learn about Heian Japan, or more of Japan’s rich, beautiful, bloody history. Share the wonder with others, so the wonder won’t be lost or forgotten.

And in doing so, discover the wonder at being able to laugh at jokes made by someone who doesn’t even speak the same language as you, doesn’t even live in the same time or place . . .

It’s truly amazing. People are more alike than we know. And amazingly different. Reading manga & learning about Japan (and other countries) has been & is such a glorious experience. I understand myself & other people better.

It’s opened up the world.