#her mother was a princess her father was dead shortly thereafter

[thecrowroad]

Trying to work out my Rook de Riva’s family history, and I’ve gotten distracted by Viago and the Antivan royal family. Who could possibly have predicted.

Previous king: King Natale. He was still ruling in 9:28. Natale had a lot of children - at least 11 legitimate enough to be in the direct line of succession, plus who knows how many bastards. Did not appear to cover himself in glory.

Known children of Natale:

Current king: King Fulgeno II. We don’t know many details about him, but he’s Viago’s father, so can be assumed to be at least in his 60s. Has been on the throne since at least 9:41. Does not appear to be covering himself in glory.

Prince Azrin and Princess Ferenna, who joined forces to work Azrin up from 11th in line for the throne to 4th through assassination of their inconvenient siblings/niblings - including possibly arranging/inducing Estefan’s assassination. Zevran was part of the mission to assassinate them both.

Prince Estefan: probably one of the older sons of Natale? Father of Rinna and apparently a lot of other bastards. His assassination for sleeping with married noblewomen was the one that was duplicated for Dante and Viago in 8 Little Talons.

Other descendants:

Rinna: was sent to the Crows, presumably on the same deal as Viago, at around about the same time. She was Zevran’s (and Taliesin’s) lover, and was assassinated by them as part of Crow Politics (ending the Rosso Noche faction that would have tried to put her forward as a legitimate successor to Natale, getting Eoman Arainai the seat of 8th Talon and reminding Zevran of his place in the House - the inciting incident for Zev taking the contract on the HoF. )

Did Viago know Rinna? They’ve got to be a similar age - was she competition? Is the aftermath of the Rosso Noche conspiracy/faction still a hinderance to his dreams of taking the throne? How unpleasant was it for him when his cousin’s ex/murderer came back as The Renegade and how much has it influenced his politics as a reformist Talon?

[rise-my-angel]

So what was Rhaegar like?? I’ve never read the books, in the show they say he was a nice chap. But this was all through Targaryen stans, is it true?

From my perspective he was a bit of a prick, he gave Lyana the flower crown and he was MARRIED??

Everything we know about Rhaegar is entirely secondhand, since he's long since been dead at the start of the series, and everyone who talks about him has completely different memories of what he was like, based on their relationship to him.

What we seem to know about him personally, is that Rhaegar was born during the fires of Summerhall, which ended up causing him to be quite meloncholy and perhaps even intense. It's said that laying in the ruins of Summerhall was the only place he felt happiness and that he might not truly have been capable of love the way the rest of us feel it. But again, how accurate that is, is up for debate.

He did become obsessed with the prophecy of the Prince that was Promised, which a woods witch by the moniker The Ghost of High Hart, predicted would be born from the bloodline of his mother and father. How much he thought it was about himself, or if he thought it was about his son Aegon, or if there is some version of his interpretation of the prophecy in the middle we will never know, but he became obsessed with fufilling it. To the detriment of every single person around him.

There's no indication that the marriage itself between him and Elia Martell was negative, but there are red flags. Elia was often sick as a girl and not always in good health. She was bedridden for months after she gave birth to their daughter Rhaenys, and soon after that, she gave birth to their son Aegon. A birth so dangerous that the Maester informed Rhaegar that Elia would die should she be put through another pregnancy. This seems to be where it falls apart.

Not going into my personal speculation, just the facts, sometime after those events did Rhaegar participate at a tourney at Harrenhal where a crown of flowers is gifted, to which is the knight deeming that woman the "Queen of love and beauty", Rhaegar rode PASSED his wife whom was also the mother of his children, and gifted it to a 14 year of betrothed Lyanna Stark, to which the entire audience fell completely silent.

Now another red flag, is that Rhaegar at this point is fully aware that his father, King Aerys II is very mentally unstable, is dangerous to himself and others, and is not in good standing with his Dornish wife. As when Princess Rhaenys was born, even though Queen Rhaella embraced her grand daughter with joy, King Aerys refused to even touch the baby as she "smelled too Dornish." Elia is also still likely not in good health considering that her labour of Aegon was so life threatening. Which means Rhaegar, if he was a good man, should have done everything in his power to keep his wife and children safe from his fathers maddness if he was planning to leave for an extended period of time. But he did not. Elia and her children were forced to be captors of Aerys during the war and as a result were brutally murdered. No Rhaegar did not kill them, but it was his responsibility to ensure they had all of the protection they needed, and the ONLY person he left in Kings Landing to protect them, was a freshly knighted 16 year old Jaime Lannister.

The only thing we know for sure next, is that sometime in the south shortly before the wedding of Brandon Stark and Catelyn Tully, did Lyanna Stark disappear, along with Rhaegar and his Kingsguard.

To which we do not know what happened explicitly, but that she was in a tower in Dorne as far from her home as possible, (a tower which was gifted to Rhaegar by his wife), and she was found in a bed of her own blood and died shortly thereafter Ned found her.

I think there is enough evidence in Rhaegars canonical actions alone to determine that his was likely someone who was once charming but deeply mentally unwell in his own mind. And when that mental instability begun to latch onto this prophecy, it really spiralled him into someone dangerous and reckless which led to the lives lost of most people he knew in those days as well as himself.

I don't think he was a monster, I think he was a disturbed man who allowed himself to do horrible things, because he could justify it in his own head that it was for the greater good, when in reality, he hurt and got killed almost every single person in his entire life.

I personally think he was a man who did very bad things, which are foretold in the events that lead to the death of his wife, his two children, and a 15 year old girl who desperately screamed for her brother when she likely knew she was about to die.

Everyone will interpret the events differently, and there are a lot of details within different characters stories in the books that lead people to drastically different conclusions, but I think Rhaegars known, undebatable actions already paint a picture that this was not the kind, good man that some would paint his memory out to be.

He wasn't a monster, but I think he was a mentally unwell man who did monstrous things because he did not consider the dire consequences to be important.

[isadomna]

The Death of Galswintha

Brunhild’s elder sister, Galswintha, arrived in Frankish lands as Chilperic I of Neustria’s betrothed in July of 568, trailed by even more treasure and finery than her sister had been. At Rouen, Chilperic tripped over himself to provide an even more spectacular reception than his brother had given Brunhild. He marched his army more than one hundred miles west, so they might meet his new bride ‘near the curved bed’ of the river Seine as she disembarked from her ship. Rather than being greeted by a palace hall full of nobles, Galswintha was welcomed by Chilperic’s entire army on bended knee, swearing an oath of allegiance to their new queen. Chilperic never did anything in half measure. And Galswintha was married not in the great hall of a converted basilica, but in the cathedral at Rouen.

Less than six months later, though, a third wedding would take place. No cathedral this time, just a handful of nobles quickly assembled in the great room of a royal villa. A week before this third wedding, King Chilperic and Queen Galswintha had been fighting. As she stormed and raged, messengers were seen riding out from the palace at all hours, delivering missives and pleas to her sister and her mother. Galswintha had caught Chilperic in bed, again, with the slave girl Fredegund. The queen was furious that ‘he showed no respect to her at all’; she was distraught over ‘the insults which she had to endure’. She wanted to return home. Was it truly so unendurable? Yes, to be made a fool of like that. And Chilperic had such a temper! She would return home, even if it meant leaving her enormous dowry behind. One morning, soon thereafter, the palace woke to a horrible scene. Galswintha had been found dead in her bed, strangled in her sleep.

Chilperic did not once address his subjects on the matter of Galswintha’s untimely demise. There were no searches for her assailants or rewards offered for their capture. No one was ever questioned or punished, not even the guards who had been posted at the door of the royal bedchamber that night. It was Fortunatus’s friend Gregory who stated plainly what the whole of France was thinking: ‘Chilperic ordered Galswintha to be strangled… and found her dead on the bed.’

Just months after Galswintha’s wedding, Brunhild had received word that her father had dropped dead, presumably of a heart attack. When the next message arrived, this one from Galswintha’s terrified nursemaid, it was reported that Brunhild went into shock. In less than eighteen months, Brunhild had lost her homeland, her father and now her only sibling. At the news of Galswintha’s death, Spain falls into even greater lamentations, and her grieving mother ‘collapses in distress, her knees giving way’ and faints. The enraged mother of the murdered princess was still a major player in international politics; after the death of King Athanagild, she had married his successor.

The few tears Chilperic reportedly shed shortly after Galswintha’s murder may have even been genuine: he was sad that things had come to this. It was nothing personal; Galswintha was simply no longer useful to him. But Fredegund was. Chilperic was obviously incredibly attracted to her. And his attraction also solved several problems. A low-born woman came without the complications of a powerful family; she would be happy with whatever meagre morgengabe he gave her. Three days later, arrayed in the brightly dyed linens and jewels of her predecessor, Fredegund stood at the altar, smiling up at Chilperic.

Galswintha’s murder has been portrayed in art numerous times throughout the centuries since, and the blame always rests on Chilperic, so much so that illuminated manuscripts and paintings portray the king of Neustria himself, wearing his crown and grinning rakishly, wrapping a cloth around the neck of his sleeping wife. In some versions, Fredegund looks on. Whether Fredegund really urged him on or not, she knew people would always assume that she had, cleverly disposing of yet another rival for the king’s affections.

Source:

Shelley Puhak, The Dark Queens: A gripping tale of power, ambition and murderous rivalry in early medieval

[theodcr]

TASK 011 : FAMILY

THE CAST:

king frederik iv of sweden ( hugh laurie ) dowager queen emelina of sweden ( anna chancellor ) prince regent elliot of sweden ( mark ruffalo ) princess linnea of sweden ( aj cook ) crown prince theodor of sweden ( bill skarsgard ) princess josefina of sweden ( kristine froseth ) princess evelina of sweden ( daisy ridley ) princess eleonora of sweden ( katherine langford ) princess elsa of sweden ( kathryn newton )

not pictured / distant family: king alexander i of sweden queen consort olivia of sweden the royal family of switzerland count ronald stolberg countess marguerite stolberg the royal family of luxembourg

I. THE PAST ( not pictured ) king alexander i & queen consort olivia of sweden

born within mere days of each other, both brought into the world in the frigid swedish winter of 1927, alexander and olivia were seemingly star-crossed. olivia’s parents were low on the totem pole of swedish nobility, but fortune had allowed them this: a generations-old friendship with the royal family. there was no need for social climbing where olivia’s family were concerned. in title they fell at the bottom of the heap, but in esteem they sat prettily next to his majesty the king. so alexander and olivia were introduced as soon as possible, in the hopes of ensuring the friendship between the two families would live to see another day. and much to their parents’ delight, alexander and olivia did them all one better: they fell in love and were married in stockholm in 1945, just after the end of the second world war. they were shortly thereafter crowned king and queen consort of sweden. they’d been married fourteen years before their first child was born: a boy, frederik. elliot and linnea followed after, and alexander passed in 1994, leaving the crown to frederik, his pride and joy. olivia, grief stricken at the loss of her husband, feeling alexander’s absence like one might feel the absence of a lost limb, passed shortly thereafter, within just a few frigid winter days.

issue: ✗ king frederik iv of sweden ✗ prince regent elliot of sweden ✗ princess linnea of sweden

count ronald & countess marguerite stolberg

ronald and marguerite stolberg were a case of little more than luck. or, as they’ve told their children and grandchildren, fate. a count and his wife from western germany, the two could hardly even call themselves nobility. still, what they lacked in titles they made up for in wealth and, moreover, in love. ronald never wanted power, and so was content to take his title and his fortune and to live out the rest of his days never attempting to climb the social ladder. he met marguerite dupont at the free university of berlin. she wasn’t of the nobility; in fact, she wasn’t even particularly wealthy. but she was whip-smart and exceedingly kind, not to mention beautiful, and there was nothing to do but fall in love. ronald’s parents objected to his marrying someone so well beneath their status, but marguerite was, to ronald, the only woman in the world. he couldn’t possibly leave her just in the name of money or power, so he married her in secret, not caring for the approval of his parents. his parents were angry at his disobedience and even angrier at his lack of vision, so they turned him away and planned to make his younger brother their heir.

ronald, out of a county but still very much in love, was more than fine with this arrangement. the way he saw it, he’d escaped a lifetime of stuffy suits and crowded high society functions. he and marguerite settled in a townhome in berlin and were, for a time, incandescently happy. they brought a daughter into the world, adélaïde, who was to be raised without the pressures ronald’s parents had put on him. but when ronald’s father fell ill and a fatal car accident spelled his brother’s end, ronald’s mother was left begging him to come home. he was ready to deny her, to reject her the way she’d rejected him, but marguerite convinced him to return home and reclaim the title that was rightfully his, to make amends with his dying father, and ronald had never been able to deny her. so they returned to the world ronald so hated, and they welcomed another daughter, emelina, into their family.

issue: ✗ dowager queen adélaïde of luxembourg ✗ dowager queen emelina of sweden

II. THE PRESENT king frederik iv of sweden & dowager queen emelina of sweden ( hugh laurie & anna chancellor )

frederik and emelina met in college. frederik was in his first year at stockholm university following two years in the military, and emelina was studying abroad in stockholm for the spring semester. the two hit it off immediately, spending some time as friends before they began dating. study sessions in the library soon migrated to study sessions in frederik’s dorm, and when the end of the semester came, emelina was loathe to go home to germany. until emelina graduated, the two wrote letters back and forth; phone calls were an option, but the love letters were far more romantic ( and, for emelina, far less expensive ). when she graduated college a year later, she didn’t hesitate to move to an apartment in stockholm, where they could date a little more officially. and the rest was history: they fell in love and were married, and for just under twenty years, they were happy.

when frederik got sick, emelina began to shut down. her temper shortened. her relationships suffered, but none more than the ones she had with her children. emelina shut everyone out, especially after frederik passed. she felt she had lost half of herself. sweden saw her standing at her husband’s funeral, and for many years after that, they did not see her at all. she never left the grounds of drottningholm. for nearly a year after the loss, she hardly left her rooms. things changed after theodor came home from the army wounded and nearly dead; it was as if emelina came back to the world of the living. the near-loss worked wonders for waking emelina up to the things around her. she finally began to move on. she left her rooms more frequently, she laughed and smiled, softly at first, and soon with full force. she helped linnea with planning and, eventually, hosting dinners and charity events. in recent years, sweden has regained their dowager queen. and more than that, theodor and josefina have regained their mother.

issue: ✗ crown prince theodor of sweden ✗ princess josefina of sweden

prince regent elliot of sweden, duke of skåne ( mark ruffalo )

read the story !

princess linnea of sweden ( aj cook )

as both the youngest child and the only princess, linnea was doted on not only by her family but also by her people. she has been beloved in sweden from the day she was born, especially before josefina’s birth and the births of linnea’s daughters. but being the baby hardly made linnea frivolous or idle. her people loved her, and she, in turn, loved them. she devoted her life to charity work and diplomacy. for many years, she has been sweden’s matriarch; when emelina retreated into the palace following frederik’s death, linnea took up many of the duties that should have fallen to the dowager queen. to encourage international relations, she pursued a relationship with gunnar ragnarsson, an important businessman from iceland, and had three daughters with him. ( read their stories here ! )

issue: ✗ princess evelina of sweden ✗ princess elonora of sweden ✗ princess elsa of sweden

III. COUSINS OF HOUSE OLDENBURG ( not pictured ) the royal family of switzerland

king alexander’s younger sister married the king of switzerland. the two went on to have vera and ingrid bernadotte, who became queen of switzerland and duchess of guyenne, respectively. their children, in turn, are second cousins to theodor, josefina, evelina, eleonora, and elsa.

the royal family of luxembourg

emelina married frederik of sweden, and her older sister adélaïde married emile of luxembourg. the two went on to have four children, all of whom are first cousins to theodor and josefina.

IV. MORE INFORMATION

since tumblr is so fucky about links, click the source link for a page that leads to the family tree / page & a timeline of swedish succession !!

[attackfish]

I don't know if you still except 5 headcanons, but if you do what do you think would change if Zuko had been Irohs son and Lu Tens younger brother instead of Ozais and Azulas?

So I want you to know Nonny, I am ALWAYS taking five headcanons requests. Always always always.

1. There are two big things to consider when constructing this AU. The first is the changing family dynamic, with Zuko being Lu Ten's younger brother and having Iroh for a father, and Azula being an only child. I have long suspected/headcanoned that Iroh's marriage was a political one, and that his wife either died during Lu Ten's birth or shortly thereafter. This would explain why Iroh never mentions her, and certainly doesn't seem to be grieving for her as he is for his son. So in this AU, Iroh's wife lives for ten years after Lu Ten's birth, long enough to give him a second son, and she dies in childbed with Zuko.

2. This means Lu Ten had his mother for a whole ten years, and for a while, there's even some resentment Lu Ten feels toward his brother for his mother's loss, and later because Zuko doesn't miss her. In time though, this fades, and Zuko grows up with a loving father and brother, and he grows up feeling safe and loved, and learning about the greatness of the Fire Nation. And then, his father and brother go off to war and leave him behind.

3. Azula meanwhile is Ozai and Ursa's only child, and as with any AU where Azula is an only child, there is no "bad child", no unfavorite to suck up all Ozai's frustration and resentment, so Azula is both the favorite and unfavorite with Ozai swinging wildly between putting Azula up on a pedestal and castigating her for every percieved flaw. Azula may love and worship her father, but she fears him too, and this fear is much more conscious for her, much more overt. Her mother is her safe person, who is predictable, who tries to protect her, but who also who fails over and over again. And then when she is eight, her mother vanishes.

4. The second thing that has to be considered in constructing this AU is just what happens when Iroh and Lu Ten go off to war and what happens when Lu Ten dies. When Iroh and Lu Ten go to lay siege to Ba Sing Se, Zukois left with his grandfather, uncle, aunt, and cousin. Ursa tries to make his father and uncle's absence easier on him and welcomes him, which Azula resents bitterly, while Ozai mostly ignores him, and it's two moderately unpleasant years until the letter comes telling of his brother's death. Ozai acts swiftly, going to Azulon to tell him that Iroh has shown fatal weakness in abandoning the siege, and shows off Azula's talents, while calling Iroh's only remaining son weak and stupid. Zuko by the way is listening behind a curtain. When Azulon dismisses Ursa and Azula, Azula joins Zuko at the curtain, which means they both hear Azulon tell Ozai he will learn what it means to lose a firstborn child. Neither waits to hear anything else. Azula prepares to run, and Zuko goes crying to Ursa. So when Azulon is dead the next morning and Ursa is gone, both Zuko and Azula have dark suspicions.

5. When Iroh comes home, his father is dead, Ozai is Firelord, and Azula is crown princess. And if he ever considered trying to rebel, his last living son is Ozai's hostage, and all the leverage the new Firelord needs.

[the-zodiacs-written-in-the-stars]

Chapter 10: Babara Burkhart

When Babara had been barely a baby, her mother had died to save her life with the power of love-

Babara had never met her father, but never could she have guessed he was a god and that--

In her past life, Babara had been the princess of the moon, before her tragic death---

Okay, okay, okay, so maybe Babara wasn't a Potter or a Jackson or even a Tsukino. She was a Burkhart without tragic backstory, or meaningful parentage, or a Great Prophecy.

Babara Brunhilde Burkhart (thanks for that, mom...) had been born on a chilly November-night in Vienna, born and raised in Austria all of her life. She had two loving parents, neither of them dead or abandoning her or having some deep, dark, life-altering family-secret. They weren't rich but also never had to worry about having food on the table or getting new clothes.

And every summer, she got to spend at her grandparents' farm in the alps. Because her parents thought that Vienna was too much of a big city and that she shouldn't lose touch to nature (her mother having grown up on her grandparents' farm). But that was okay, because her grandparents were great – and she wasn't the only one who got to spend the summer there. Her cousin, Sebastian Weinberg, was also sent there every summer by his mother for the very same reasoning. That only made the summers extra awesome, because Sebastian was only two years older than her and he lived all the way in Berlin in Germany, so the two didn't really get to see each other a lot. But every summer, they got to be together at the farm and have adventures together.

Sebastian was a total nerd and the two cousins didn't have a lot in common aside from that, so it was even better that they got to form this bond. As a single-child, Babara liked to experience what it was like to live with another child like that, so that even when they grew older and their parents didn't 'force' them to go anymore, they still opted to. To see their grandparents and to see each other.

When Sebastian was seventeen, the introverted nerd met his best friend – Melanie Maguire. Online, writing Harry Potter fanfiction. For Babara, who had always been the heart of every social event and had an easy time making friends with anyone she met, the concept was slightly odd, but she was happy for him. Especially when the two got to meet for the first time and Babs came to realize it was more than just some random stranger on the internet Basty liked to text with. That was a real friendship. So real, in fact, that the two made plans to move to the same city, country not further narrowed down. Somehow, Babs didn't really like the idea of Basty leaving for good.

Using the puppy-dog eyes of doom (patent pending), Babs convinced Sebastian to take her with him. That the two should move together. After all, that best friend of Basty's wasn't going to move there alone either, she had a little brother she was very close to and didn't want to part ways with.

That was how, in the year 2011, Babara Burkhart and Sebastian Weinberg moved to Los Angeles together, shortly thereafter followed by Melanie and Michael Maguire.

Nothing about Babs' life qualified her to be some great superhero.

There was no tragic loss in her background – her grandparents were happily alive too. Her family was very normal and not magical or anything. She worked hard to get to where she was now, with some missteps but who didn't have those. Yet somehow, for some reason, she had been chosen to become a superhero, a protector of Earth. Scorpio.

~*~

“Y... You reckless idiot!”, exclaimed Babs angrily, throwing her hands up. “Oh, Bee, you shouldn't go on solo missions. That's dangerous, Bee. You should have called me, Bee.”

Jamie grumbled and winced as he sat down on his bed, holding his ribs. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve much more!”, grunted Babs annoyed. “Take off your shirt.”

“Hah. So you only want to get me naked too”, sighed Jamie dramatically.

Babs gave him the stink-eye, while Scorpio and Leo curled together on the small couch in the corner, grooming each other. With another wince did Jamie start to peel his shirt off. Biting her lips, Babara rubbed her hands together and closed her eyes for a moment to concentrate.

“How are you stitched up?”, asked Babs surprised when she saw the wound.

“Matt and Mike called a doctor friend of theirs”, mumbled Jamie, cheeks heating up a little.

“You are so damn lucky that they took you with them and you didn't get caught by the bad guys”, grumbled Babs with a glare as she rested her hands on the wound, making Jamie wince. “That's what you get for nearly getting yourself killed. Idiot.”

She had been training her healing skills. Working with the water inside the cells to close the wound. It took time and it exhausted her, but the others were going to ask questions if they noticed. Even though Jamie would totally deserve to walk around with that wound until it healed naturally.

“Don't worry me like this”, sighed Babs softly. “I don't know what I'd do if you died, Jay.”

“I'm not going to die”, promised Jamie, resting his forehead against hers. “I swear.”

“Besides, I wouldn't know how to explain it to Jess”, grumbled Babs with a glare.

That made Jamie laugh and wince a little. “Sorry. Yeah. Okay. No dying.”

“Or you could just tell your sister”, offered Babs just to sigh and lift her hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, okay. I kno—ow you're not going to 'drag her into this'...”

Jamie narrowed his eyes at her in warning. The two were usually so close and agreed on everything. There was just one thing they might never agree on. And that was Jessie. Ever since their mother had died, Jamie had been the sole caretaker of his sister. Ten years. Jamie had only been sixteen himself back then. It figured that he would become overprotective, because that was the role he had always played in their relationship. The overprotective big brother, shielding her. Personally, Babs thought it would be easier to tell Jessie so Jessie knew where they went, so Jessie knew to care for the kids and knew what might happen to Jamie and Babs. But Babara knew she couldn't tell Jamie how to handle his own family. He'd have to make that decision himself.

~*~

“Don't think too hard, you might fry something.”

Babs scowled and turned to glare at Jessie. The brunette raised one eyebrow as she tried to look over Babara's shoulder at the newspaper. There was another article about Sagittarius, Cancer, Aquarius and Taurus. They were doing... good. Better than the first time Babs and Jamie had met them, really. Still, there was something about Aquarius...

“I'm picking the kids off from school later. Want me to get something from the store?”, asked Jessie.

“I... think we're good”, replied Babs and shook her head.

Lifting up the newspaper, Babs took a closer look, squinting at the photo some more. Jessie huffed.

“You want me to leave you and the newspaper alone...?”, asked Jessie.

“Ha, ha, ha”, drawled Babs unimpressed. “No. I... I gotta... uh... I gotta go.”

“Where? What—Babara!”, called Jessie after Babs.

But Babara was already out of the apartment, the newspaper in one hand, grabbing her leather-jacket with her free hand and hurrying through the bar, not minding anyone.

~*~

Reaching her destination, Babara started knocking on the door hard and repeatedly. A glare was etched into her features as the door opened. Moments later and the door opened to an unusually disheveled Tanya. Her normally so meticulously put-up hair was only in a loose pony-tail. She was wearing her favorite turquoise dress. Frowning at her, Tanya tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Babs? What... can I do for you?”, asked Tanya slowly. “It's been a while since you came over.”

Eyebrows drawn together in determination, Babs held the newspaper up and into Tanya's face. “That's you. Aquarius. That's you. Of course it's you.”

“Wh... What are you talking about?”, asked Tanya, the look of a deer in the headlights on her face.

“Don't lie to me, Tatiana Yevgeniyevna Tarasova!”, exclaimed Babara in warning.

It always paid off to learn middle-names – or in this case, father's names – for maximum efficiency of scolding. Tanya immediately looked like a scolded small puppy. Rolling her eyes, Babs pushed past her ex and into the apartment. It really had been a while since she had last been here. Things had been majorly awkward for a couple months after their breakup. Curiously, Babs looked around. It made her smile, because it still all looked exactly the same as she remembered it. After all, Tanya was not a fan of change, even the smallest. It had been very... tiresome for Babs back in the day, when Babs had been living with Tanya for a while. Everything had its very specific place and Tanya always fussed when it was out of place. That was, in retrospect, probably why the two had broken up because Babs considered herself creative-chaotic. They just clashed too often.

“You don't actually-”, started Tanya again, rather weakly.

“Tanya”, grunted Babs in warning, glaring at her. “I know your boobs.”

“...What?”, asked Tanya confused.

Babs rolled her eyes and motioned vaguely in the general direction of Tanya's chest. “Your boobs. I spent months sleeping on those. Among other things. I know them. And the rest of you. Like, that's you, in a very tight dress and sure with your hair open, but still it's you.”

Ducking her head with a troubled expression, Tanya joined Babs on the couch. “Did... Jamie figure it out too then...?”

Babs snorted and shook her head. “Please. That boy walked right past me when I had blue hair last year. You wear your hair open and put on a mask and he is completely lost. I love the boy, but he has absolutely no abilities to recognize people when they change their appearance.”

Tanya laughed softly and nodded. It was true. Jamie really sucked when someone changed a major part of their appearance. So Tanya, who always wore her hair pinned up, with flowing curls? That alone would already throw him off but an actual mask...? There was no way Jamie was going to figure this out, Babs knew that. Which only made things harder for her though...

“You have to promise me not to tell him”, stated Tanya, with a surprising amount of seriousness. “No one should know. You shouldn't either. But you have to promise to keep my secret, to not tell anyone. Not Jamie, not Basty, not Jessie. No one. You promise?”

Babs winced, even though she had known this was coming. “Of course I promise. I'm not one to spill other people's secrets, Tanya. You know that.”

And Tanya smiled at her confidently, knowing this to be true. Because it was. Which was a problem. Because heaven forbid that Babs can have it easy, huh? Just tell Tanya that Jamie was Leo and tell Jamie that Tanya was Aquarius and then they could all work together. It'd be so easy. But she knew she couldn't just tell Jamie's secret identity to anyone, not even someone she knew Jamie trusted. And now that Tanya had made her promise, she couldn't just go to Jamie either. Urgh.

“How? I mean, why? You're not exactly the type to... you know...”, drawled Babs awkwardly.

“It just... happened”, replied Tanya, tucking her hair behind her ear and frowning. “I just... it's a responsibility that I can't just shake off or ignore. That's not who I am, Varya.”

Okay, that was true. Tanya was a hard-working and serious person who never avoided any task, regardless of how hard it was. She wouldn't just duck out of becoming a hero. Still, Babs couldn't quite imagine Tanya battling monsters. Then again, supposedly she had already seen it. Aquarius. She had seen Aquarius and Taurus fight side by side.

“Oh... Your sword-fighting lessons”, drawled Babs with wide-eyes.

Tanya had learned traditional sword-dancing as a child and later on taken to learn sword-fight too, since she had already mastered the blade in her own ways. That did explain the big sword.

“The problem is that we have not much experience. Sure, we've been going out for over a month now. And we have some... vague... idea of what is going on, but I feel like Leo and Scorpio know more than us, but they... they refuse to work with us.”

Tanya frowned in frustration, balling one fist. Eyebrows knitted, Babara reached out to grasp Tanya's hand and try to sooth her a little. Tanya looked up and took a deep breath.

“You just... have to prove yourselves to them”, offered Babara gently. “They're a team and they don't know you. It figures that they can't just... trust strangers blindly? Who's to know who the good guys and the bad guys really are?”

“We!”, exclaimed Tanya annoyed. “We're supposed to know who the good guys are! There are twelve Zodiacs. They are supposed to be the good guys, the protectors!”

Babara knew that. But she wasn't supposed to know that; the general public knew nothing about what was actually going on and what the meaning of anything really was. They were just scared of all the monsters and knew some heroes were protecting them in colorful costumes.

“Oh, really?”, asked Babs in fake surprise. “What do you know? I mean, what is going on?”

It'd be a good chance to get a grasp on what the new guys knew compared to what Babs and Jamie knew. Tanya frowned for a moment before she got up and motioned for Babara to follow her to the bedroom. Even in there, everything was still the same, all the way to the exact position of the light-turquoise flower-vase next to the bed with exactly three white tulips in it. Babs remembered having regularly bought her girlfriend such tulips too, after she noticed that Tanya liked to keep them next to her bed. It always made the blonde smile in a cute, pleased way. Babara paused when she noticed that one thing had changed in this room. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked at the wall opposite the bed. There had been some weird modern art piece of blues and greens and whites that was horribly obnoxious in Babs' opinion. Now it was gone and replaced by a large white board.

In Tanya's neat, nearly print-like handwriting were things written on it, magnets pinning pictures next to the writing. AQUARIUS, TAURUS, SAGITTARIUS, CANCER. In the upper left corner, in big, bold letters, each with a newspaper clipping with a picture of them beneath it. Not even self-taken photos. Clever. Just in case the wrong people followed her home and found this. There was a rounded square around the four, indicating that they were a team. In the upper middle of the board was written LEO and SCORPIO with a picture from last month's front-page. There were further notes scribbled in the circle around their names and pictures. Team Lionheart, potential allies. Beneath the LEO was also marked down fire-elemental, uses sword, incarnation of former leader. Mh. Interesting, but not surprising that their companions had given them some background information of past incarnations too. And yes, in most cases, Leo had been the leader. Zeus, the king of the 'gods'. Beneath SCORPIO, it said water-elemental, whip-wielder, wild-card. Babara grinned pleased by that. Be it Hermes or Serket or Abonde, Scorpio really had partnered with a wild array of different personalities, unlike say Cancer who had always picked the greatest, strongest warriors – Ares and Tyr and Sobek. Vaguely magic and healing and deliveries. A jack of all trades, as Scorpio had told her, which was why those under her patronage were always known for multiple realms – Hermes, the god of travelers and thieves and tricksters and the deliverer of the gods, Abonde, the goddess of magic, snow and misery, Serket, the goddess of healing and magic. And that suited Babs just right. Being so specialized in only one or two skills seemed rather boring to her. Jamie too, he had more than one specialization. The lightning of Zeus and Thor was as much the heavenly fire as Amun-Ra's sun-fire; still, lightning was a fire-power only Leo could control.

Shaking her head to make herself focus again, Babs turned toward the rest of the board. In the upper right corner it said LIBRA, with a large question-mark beneath; a picture missing. Potential enemy?, misguided? was written beneath it. Good questions that Babara couldn't answer either, sadly enough. When they had first met Libra, Babara had thought they had made an ally. The betrayal, learning that she was not on their side... Shaking her head again, this time more violently, Babs looked to see what else there was beside the ones she knew about too.

Much to her surprise, there was some new information on there. In the lower left corner, beneath GEMINI, was a dark, not good photo of a person in an ally at night. Looked like a screenshot from a surveillance camera. Frowning, Babs knelt down to see. Air-elemental, vigilante, works alone, uses batons, protects. Huh. That... That was actually news to Babara.

“Who's this? I never saw them in the news before?”, asked Babara innocently.

“Gemini. Or at least I think so. He – well, I'm actually not sure on that one, the costume isn't very revealing about body-shape or anything, really – has been working as a vigilante, since around the time Leo and Scorpio first appeared. I went through the local news all the way back to the date the Zodiacs arrived, to see if I can find any more. After all, there should be twelve. The only solid lead I found was a vigilante who has been keeping the streets at night safe. Beating up robbers and rapists, predominantly protecting girls who are out alone late. Usually, there is a symbol left behind with spray-paint, right above the tied-up criminal. Four lines that cross in a square. But I think it's not a square; I think it's a hastily drawn Gemini-sign”, explained Tanya. “Whoever it is, they're good though. Good at fighting and good at dodging people who try to approach...”

Babs hummed and made a mental note to look into this too. Interesting. She and Jamie had been wondering where the rest of the Zodiacs were too. Seemingly, Gemini really was the only one Tanya had a lead on though. VIRGO – earth-elemental, ARIES - fire-elemental, CAPRICORN - earth-elemental, PISCES - water-elemental, they all stood empty. Four Zodiacs still stood unaccounted for. Were they aligned with Libra...? Had they gotten lost at their arrival on Earth? Were they still training to not go out there completely unprepared? Or were they entirely declining the responsibility and danger of becoming heroes...? Who knew.

Babara sat down on Tanya's bed, leaning back onto her hands and looking at the chart. In dead-center, the villains. She grinned fondly at the name Tanya had given them.

“Snake Nest Villains?”, asked Babara amused.

“They're snake-themed”, grumbled Tanya with a faint blush. “Their leader is Serpentarius. Literally the snake-bearer. The second-in-command, from everything I've seen so far, is Serpens, the snake. Then Hydra and Hydrus. Sure, there are plenty of... one-off-minions. Constellations that... admittedly, mainly Scorpio and Leo had beaten. Monsters possessing innocent civilians. But those three – Serpens, Hydra and Hydrus – are the reoccurring ones. They're... bigger.”

“You're adorable”, grinned Babs fondly.

“Oh, shut up”, huffed Tanya embarrassed and crossed her arms over her chest.

But true enough, inside the largest circle, the one for the villains, she had written those four names the biggest, SERPENTARIUS in the center, the other three in a triangle around it. A sheet of paper was pinned there, a printed-out list of all 88 constellations, with those crossed out that Leo and Scorpio had already defeated. She really was diligent and loved details. Maybe Babs should get onto such a wall and list too. It would make the job easier. Then again... she lived with two nosy children and an equally nosy Irish woman. Such a chart would stay hidden for like half a day.

“Promise me you'll call when you're in a tight spot”, stated Babara after a beat.

“Varya, there's nothi-”, started Tanya with a chuckle.

Babara got up, standing to her full height in front of Tanya (and effectively being on eye-level with Tanya's boobs...), head tilted back to stare up at Tanya with her most serious look. It shut Tanya up.

“Promise me you will call if you're in a tight spot”, repeated Babs. “There are things I can't say, but if you need me, I will always be there to help you, Tatiana.”

Tanya nodded, albeit reluctantly. If Tanya took this clue to figure out Babs' secret all on her own, then good. If not, oh well. Babara was going to find a way to solve this mess sooner or later anyway. With a sudden, sunny smile did Babs pull Tanya into a hug.

“Stay safe, blondie”, whispered Babs softly. “Don't you dare get yourself killed.”

“I'll do my best”, promised Tanya with a chuckle, wrapping her arms around Babara. “Thank you.”

~*~

An hour later, Babara was once again knocking hard and obnoxiously against a door. It took considerably much longer for this one to open and the face greeting her was by far not as friendly as Tanya's. Sebastian Weinberg glared, hair messy, no shirt and pants on backward.

“Basty! My favorite cousin!”, exclaimed Babs with a bright smile.

“I'm your only cousin”, grunted Basty annoyed, ruffling his ginger hair. “And I thought I got rid of you when you moved out. What do you want...? I was busy doing... something.”

“Hello, Angel, I guess you're 'something'?”, greeted Babs, waving past Basty.

Angelique Lamour was flushed a bright red, less from embarrassment and more from... exercise, Babs guessed. She was wearing one of Basty's light-green hoodies and nothing else, rubbing the ankles of her long, pale legs against each other. Her fingers were playing with the thick, blonde braid laying over her shoulder, on her lips a smile that was pure amusement.

“Ye—ep. I'm something”, confirmed Angel lightly. “But it's okay. An orgasm gets better with built-up and delay anyway, so come on inside. What's going on?”

“A... Angelique!”, hissed Sebastian, his face dark-red. “You can't just-She's my cousin!”

“You're so cute when you're a prude, mon amour”, laughed Angel delighted. [French trans: my love]

Babara grinned impishly as she just ducked beneath Basty's arm and walked over to sit next to Angel on the couch. She used to live with them. Well, she used to live with Basty, back when they first moved to Los Angeles. And then, five years ago, after Angel and Jamie had broken up a few months prior, Basty finally got the girl. Oh, he had had a crush on Angel ever since he met Jamie's then girlfriend at the St. John's Pub. But he had thought he stood no chance with Angel, especially since Angel and Jamie had been dating. The fates were on their side though and after Angel and Jamie broke up, Angel found her way to Basty – and the two were just perfect together. Babs had never seen Basty with anyone the way he was with Angel. She brought out the best in him. Regardless of how cute she thought they were, they got rather obnoxious to live with after Angel started spending most of her days at their apartment, which was the reason she had ultimately moved out and decided to move in with Jamie and Jessie.

“No—ow, what's up, Babsie?”, asked Angel and threw her long legs over Babs' lap.

“Don't call me that”, groaned Babara and wiggled her nose.

“Aw, you're so cute”, grinned Angel and bopped Babs' nose.

Babs grumbled a little and got more comfortable. “Okay, so... hypothetically speaking... Say you know a secret from a friend and if you were to tell another friend, that would actually be beneficial to both parties. Do you tell the second friend or not...?”

“Mh...”, drawled Angel thoughtfully, twirling a bright-blonde strand around her finger. “If they will both benefit from it, then they would be grateful in the end, so I would tell them...”

Basty scolded, which was his default facial expression anyway. Far too serious. Babs raised an eyebrow, looking at her cousin and waiting for him to express what annoyed him.

“You shouldn't tell your friend's secret”, stated Basty as he started pacing. “Mel is... hiding something from me. And I would be rather mad if someone else were to tell me. Because that'd mean I hadn't yet earned the right to know that secret. Whatever it is, it's Mel's to tell and she will tell me once she's ready. I know that, so I'm not pushing and I wouldn't want for anyone to get involved, Babs. It's a matter of trust, simple as that.”

That gave Babs a pause. In a way, Basty was probably right. Even though she knew Tanya and Jamie could trust each other... in the end, it should be their decision when or if to trust each other about this secret. Groaning, Babs ran her hand over her face.

“Ange—el, this isn't the answer I wanted”, groaned Babs frustrated.

“Basty, mon amour, go get the ice-cream?”, requested Angel with a smile.

“And put on a shirt, cuz! No one wants to see that!”, called Babs out.

“Now, that's just factually wrong”, chided Angel, wagging her finger at him.

Babs chuckled and got more comfortable as she waited for her cousin to bring the ice.

~*~

“This looks like you've been... busy... What is this, Bee?”, asked Jamie carefully.

Babs bit her lips and looked up at him. Scooting over a little, she motioned for Jamie to join her on the floor, which he reluctantly did. Printed articles were spread out in front of her.

“Okay so I did a little bit of digging, because it's really weird that there are only seven out of twelve Zodiacs accounted for, right? And I found this. A vigilante who's mainly been protecting women from rapists at night and people from robberies. They always leave this sign on the wall where they leave the tied-up criminal for the police to find and I think it's the symbol of Gemini.”

Babs pointed at the crime-scene photos from a newspaper article three days ago. Some tied-up thug with the symbol sprayed right above his head. Jamie frowned and pulled it closer to look at the symbol. It just looked like the Roman number two, so it was a bit of a stretch...

“It makes sense, I guess. Became a hero too, but without a team, staying small-scale”, mused Jamie thoughtfully, tilting his head. “So, do you want to... track them?”

“I figured that could be interesting”, shrugged Babs with a grin. “See who they are, what they're up to. We're only two. We're supposed to be twelve, Jamie. We need to find and approach the others.”

“But-”, started Jamie with a serious frown.

“I know, I know, you still don't trust the Unicorn Princess Squad”, huffed Babs.

“Is... Is that really what they're called?”, asked Jamie doubtfully, frowning.

“It's what the newspaper dubbed them after seeing the unicorn and, mistakenly so, Aquarius look all princessy”, chuckled Babara amused. “They figure she's the leader and so far, Sagittarius is the only companion the newspaper caught on camera. I think it's cute and I'm glad we picked our own name before the news could. That'd have been a disaster...”

“Oh yeah”, grunted Jamie before he shook his head. “But no. I don't trust them yet.”

“They've done heroics all on their own”, argued Babs. “They took down Musca all on their own last week. If they are aligned with the bad guys, this would be the most fucking elaborate scheme to gain our trusts ever! You have to see that, James.”

Jamie frowned at that. It was rare for Babs to call him 'James'. Babara crossed her arms seriously and glared at Jamie, awaiting his answer. Running his hands through his hair, Jamie leaned back against the bed and sighed. He looked up at the ceiling with an even deeper frown.

“I'm still not convinced, Babs. I just...”, drawled Jamie.

“Jay, we're supposed to be a team of twelve. We are supposed to trust ten other heroes. If you keep standing in the way of that and keep rejecting anyone who offers to help us... then we will fail. Fail this city and planet and the whole purpose of why we got these powers”, argued Babs urgently, taking Jamie's hand. “Yes, this version of Libra betrayed us. Yes, she nearly killed you. Yes, you not breathing and nearly bleeding out in my arms will haunt me to my dying day. But that only means we really do need allies, so I will never have to stand there alone. So we have back-up. So we can liberate Libra from this human and find a worthy human host.”

There was doubt and caution in Jamie's eyes as he regarded Babs and mulled her words over. She knew he'd need some longer, but she also knew that she was right.

Read here on AO3!

Previous Chapter <- || Masterpost || -> Next Chapter

[lunaraen]

July 15: Fairy Tale AU

Queen Isa is a tyrant, they murmur in the countryside as their necks burn red in the sun and sweat trickles down their faces, each desperate to have the harvest ready in time.

A dictator, they whisper to each other in the crowded streets of cities, too bitter to contain their stewing rage but still not wanting to be heard by the patrols.

Jesse won't say she knows better, given that she hasn't had to deal with the extreme restrictions or taxes of the people even as she spends most of her days on her knees, scrubbing the floors, but she knows a different story.

Her mother hasn't been well. Not since Jesse was young, barely old enough to remember the words of bedtime stories and lullabies but more than ready to want them.

For a while she thought it may have had something to do with her father's passing, but even as a child the relationship between her mother and father had never seemed the most loving. They each loved Jesse dearly, and were cordial with one another, but it wouldn't surprise her at all when she found out years after her father's death that the marriage had been entirely political.

It wasn't about losing Ivor or having to deal with new suitors; it had more to do with the gift her mother received shortly thereafter.

(Hardly even a gift, really, the spoils of an expedition to recently abandoned magical territory. A mirror, many times taller than Jesse had been as a child, the glass black but untouched even as its frame had begun to crumble around it. A new frame was made, iron and simple, to complement the glass.

It looked nice enough to Jesse, but the scary thing had never been its design, as unsettling as that could get.

The much more terrifying thing was the green eyes that would stare back.

Not Jesse's own brown ones, and not even the deeper green of her mother's eyes; bright green eyes that watched her, followed her movements. The rest of the face was to follow soon after, but the eyes continued to stick out to Jesse, even as the voice fought with them for the title of creepiest feature.)

Mirrors can reflect many things, but people can't see voices. Not most people. And the voice is never seen, rather heard or felt. It's a mirror with a sly voice and a dry sense of humor, a mirror with the ability to answer any question and show any place or person if asked.

(Jesse had asked the mirror its name, once, before Isa had started to give her chores and forbade her from ever entering her mother's chambers again. Even before her mother used her magic, either having gained it or simply allowing herself to use it freely, Jesse lived in a world of it, and when it comes to magic, nothing is more important than a name.

The face in the mirror had blinked, paused, and simply answered that it was Aiden.)

It's getting harder to remember what her mother's voice sounded like when it was warm and soft.

Her voice still goes quiet, now, but never without a hint of ice, fury coursing through the words as they frost over. When her mother is quiet, she is at her cruelest and her angriest, and no one is happy.

It might be for the best that Jesse spends most of her time cleaning and maintaining the courtyard.

But even that doesn't save her forever.

It's amazing, how she can go from singing with a mystery person, eyes alight with energy and dancing with the sort of happiness she hasn't seen anyone have since her father fell ill even as the stranger stopped singing and began to just talk to her, to running for her life in a forest of trees as old and gnarled as time itself in only a few hours.

(Part of her's shocked it's only been a few hours while another part of her can't believe it's been that long, faster and filled with more encounters and drama than her days have been in a long time.)

She hopes Reginald will be okay.

(As far back as Jesse's memory goes and further, he's always been her uncle before anything else, though there's no blood relation. It never stopped her from calling him her Uncle Reggie, and it never stopped him from letting her.)

Reginald has been her mother's best friend for as long as Jesse can remember, even as she's turned on Jesse and grown cold to the world around her. He's done everything Isa's asked, been the most competent and skilled captain of the guard she could ever ask for, and done so many terrible things in Isa's name.

(He and Jesse have discussed the mirror before, and Reginald has been wary of it from the moment it was presented to Isa.

Magic mirrors don't break to swords or fists, and Reginald hasn't tried to destroy it, not when it's a mirror that Isa adores and one that will gladly tell on him if he tries to bring it harm.)

Jesse can't imagine Isa hurting Reginald, much less killing him.

But she never expected her mother to want her dead either, and here they are.

Fairest.

It's a qualifier that confuses Jesse, her mother having never cared specifically about her beauty no matter how self-absorbed or cruel she's become. And while Jesse's not going to deny that she probably crossed the threshold from cute to pretty several years ago, the timing of now makes little sense.

At least for beauty.

There's another way it could work.

Because her mother is a tyrant and a dictator in the eyes of the people, but she hasn't unjustly imprisoned anyone or punished people without reason.

The laws are just that strict, that cruel and unforgiving, and her mother works as judge, jury, and executioner. The taxes are to be given at the same time at the same day of every month, no later, and the rules are to be adhered exactly as they worded. No one has been targeted by Isa herself for calling the queen a tyrant or a , but instead for staying up and about in the streets after curfew, even if by a minute, for taking money that isn't theirs, even if someone simply dropped and forgot a coin and another person picked it up hours later.

Her mother is brutal, but, in a twisted way, fair.

Jesse can't claim to being that sort of fair, too ruled by emotion and too soft, and so that option makes no sense either.

Except.

Except that something occurs to Jesse as she stumbles upon a pig caught in a crude trap, somewhere between piglet and full grown as it struggles, unharmed but tangled in the net. It occurs to her that her first thought as she frees it, untangling the netting and trying to gently calm the pig as she does, is that she wants to find whoever did this and find out why.

Hunting in this forest happens to be illegal, and would normally earn a sentence of several years in jail and a formal apology or death. Her mother's ruled both sentences before for the crime.

If given the chance, however, Jesse would rule both by the written rule and contextual evidence, the breaking of a law and the situation surrounding it. A person arrested simply for curfew, though on their way home and a minute late, does not deserve the same sentence as a person loitering the streets well after curfew has been called. A person hunting for surplus hide or a trophy is not the same as a person hunting for food for themselves or their loved ones.

It also occurs to Jesse that her birthday was likely not less than a week ago, with how warm the weather has been, and thus that she's likely at the age where she now has a legitimate claim to the throne or the right to be married and co-rule another kingdom.

(She has no interest in either and neither is likely, her mother in perfect health and all other rulers either already involved or looking for far more than some princess-turned-servant-girl.)

Oh.

Oh no.

Jesse grimaces as she continues to scratch behind the piglet’s ears, the animal now free of the net and either not realizing it or busy sniffing her ripped but simple dress for carrots, which she had been pulling from the garden earlier. This is not a fun revelation to be having when the wind picks up, branches swaying heavily while the clouds barely visible past the thick of the thorns and dead trees grow darker and darker, both from the oncoming storm and setting sun.

She really hopes this doesn't come down to strong moral fiber and a chance at being eligible to rule, but fate has not been kind today.

So Jesse holds onto the net, hoping it will be useful for something beyond catching innocent animals, and begins to move on again, tapping down both the fear rising in her throat and the amusement at the pig still following her. Fate has not been kind, and so she must take it her own hands.

Jesse’s saved from having to build a shelter of her own when she and her new friend, who didn’t like the name Orville but doesn’t seem to mind the name Reuben, stumble upon a seemingly abandoned cottage.

[built-from-nothing]

Feels Like Home

Prompt: “Oh, now they’re just being mean.”

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Words: 3,016

Warnings: Fluff, angst, torture, (the real torture is the lack of pie), canon violence, blood, death (no main characters), and language. 

A/N: Written for @eyes-of-a-disney-princess ‘s Rapunzel’s Tangled Up With Supernatural Challange. Unbeta’d so all mistakes are my own. Had a lot of fun writing this & hope you all enjoy! 

You watch the cookie cutter houses whiz by from the backseat of the Impala. Perfectly manicured lawns lead up to cape cod after cape cod, undoubtedly housing the suburban family of four. The father working a nine to five. The mother running errands in the minivan, while the kids are off at school learning about planets and multiplication tables.

How you longed for that type of apple pie life. To have a normal home surrounded by the people you love. Well, minus the minivan. Hunting since you were old enough to use a knife proved that this life would never belong to you. No matter how hard you tried.

It was fruitless to harbor such desires, yet every time you found yourself working a case in the suburbs the traitorous thoughts crept back in; your loving husband engulfing you in his arms as you watch your two little munchkins run around the front yard.

You sigh and turn away, the sight of what you’ll never have too much to bear. You have it pretty good already, working with two of the best hunters in the business. You could be doing this all alone. The memory of that wretched night your parents lost their lives resurfaces. The way the wind howled through the Impala windows as if the world too was mourning the loss of your parents.

You glance up front to the boys, thankful that they had shown up that night and plucked you from death’s grasp. Parentless and eighteen, you had assured the boys you’d be fine hunting on your own. You had been raised accordingly after all, if the situation presented itself. But Dean insisted you stay with them, at least until you got back on your feet.

Three years later and here you are still working cases with the Winchesters, fitting right in with their usual antics and strange love of pie. You’d grown to love the boys, some more than others...

The slow purr of the Impala comes to a halt as you pull up outside of a dingy American diner and make your way inside. Sports clippings and memorabilia of the local teams line the walls, drowning out the loud eighties wallpaper. “At least it's not wood paneling this time,” you snark.

Dean rolls his eyes while walking to the far corner of the diner and slides across the brown vinyl booth. You sit across from Dean, Sam plopping down beside you. A waitress in her mid-twenties approaches the booth, her eyes raking Dean’s body, and takes your orders. Coffees all around, two cheeseburgers, a turkey wrap, and three slices of “sweet, cherry pie.” Sam shoots Dean his classic bitch face at the stupid line.

You anxiously await the arrival of your burger, tensions high as the case you were working had proven to be more challenging than expected. Several people were found dead in their homes with a barrage of various injuries. Some drained of blood, heart torn out, incisions in the back of their skull, the works. When visiting the victims’ homes, everyone gave the same response. “Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” After the third attempt, Sam’s suggestion to retire for the night was met with open arms.

“So what are we thinking? Werewolf, djinn, wraith?” Dean asks, before taking a gulp of his coffee, allowing a few droplets to escape the mug and run down his chin. You instinctively reach out to wipe his face, but catch yourself and not-so-casually run your hand through your hair. You watch as the coffee slowly slides down his face, impeded by his two day's worth of scruff. You snort as it rounds his chin and slips out of sight, Dean all the while oblivious. “Kitsune?” he questions, his eyes alive with excitement, taking your snort as a sound of demurral.

“No, Dean, you have something on your,” you laugh, motioning to your chin. His brows tilt in as he splays a hand across his chin, the sticky liquid coating his fingers. He smiles his thanks and hastily wipes his chin, a light blush filling his cheeks.

“Really, Dean?” Sam chides. “You can’t eat like a normal human being for five minutes?”

“At least I eat normal human food. Unlike that rabbit feed you love so much.” Dean retorts and raises his palm to you, which you gladly slap. Sam turns to you and clutches his chest, his mouth gasping in faux shock. You shrug your shoulders and flash him your best innocent smile.

The waitress returns, places your dishes appropriately, and before leaving turns to Dean and leans over the table, her boobs struggling to bust out of the v-neck uniform. 

“Honey, we’re all outta pie, but I can bring whatever dessert we have in the back. On the house,” she whispers in his ear, Dean’s eyes flickering to her exposed cleavage all the while. He licks his lips and groans, satisfied with his dessert options. His eyes remain glued to the waitress’ swaying hips as she saunters off to the kitchen.

You glower at Dean, green clouding your vision. How he throws himself at anything with breasts infuriates you. Well, nearly anything seeing as how he has yet to make a move on you, despite your constant efforts. You’d think that eventually he’d be rejected by one of these bimbos. You pinch the bridge of your nose trying to reign in your anger. The waitress was just playfully flirting, and what Dean and Cheryll do on their own time is none of your business. She wouldn’t be the first, and she surely won’t be the last.  

Your stomach churning, you push your burger towards the center of the table, the image of Dean slamming into another woman stealing your appetite. Sam sends a sympathetic glance your way and clears his throat bringing you and Dean back to reality.

A seductive grin spreads across Dean’s lips as his gaze sets on the juicy burger before him. He slaps his hands together and grabs the sandwich saying, “Come to daddy.” He engulfs the burger, fitting as much as he can into his mouth. Moans of pleasure sound in between bites, the savory taste of grease, carbs, and cheese flooding his brain with serotonin.

“That’s what he said,” you retort under your breath. Sam chuckles and rolls his eyes at your crude humor. You raise your palm to him requesting a high five, which he reluctantly returns. Dean in a food trance, ignores your jibes and now nearly finished with his burger, greedily eyes your untouched plate.

“Gonna eat that?” He asks, reaching to grab the rim of the plate. You quickly slap his hand away and pull the plate towards you.

“Don’t touch my food, Winchester,” you warn. He raises his hands in surrender and the waitress returns with a piece of cake. She winks and slips the receipt, her number scrawled across the back in purple ink, into Dean’s breast pocket before walking off. Waitresses.

You roll your eyes and quickly glance at the dessert before turning away. That’s weird, a carrot’s iced on Dean’s cake…

“Wait, Dean, I think-” you stammer as Dean shovels a bite into his mouth. The light slowly fades from his eyes, his nose scrunched in distaste as he hastily spits the dessert into a napkin.

“The hell kind of cake is this?!” Dean protests, and takes a large gulp of water trying to wash the awful taste out of his mouth.

“Carrot,” Sam chimes, smothering the chuckle that threatens to escape his lips.

“Who puts vegetables in cake?”  Dean yells as he rummages his pockets and throws money onto the table. “Come on, we’re leaving this shit hole.” Dean strides across the diner, making no sign of acknowledging the waving waitress at the end of the counter, and throws the doors open wide as he exits. Sam follows shortly thereafter leaving you alone in the booth.

The loud roar of the Impala soon resonates throughout the small diner. Knowing full well a pissed Dean would leave you here, you hastily wrap your burger in a napkin, grab a handful of fries, and race out the door. 

“Bye,” you giggle, batting your eyelashes furiously as you wiggle your fingers at Cheryll. As soon as you enter the Impala Dean speeds out of the lot, not even bothering to wait for you to close the door.

A scowl rests upon Dean’s face as he drives towards a motel still disgruntled from the dessert catastrophe. It was bad enough they were out of pie, but vegetables in the cake? Unforgivable.

And that waitress who couldn’t keep from throwing herself at him? Dean scoffs at the thought and crumples the receipt in his pocket to throw on the floor of the car. It had been a while since he had gotten laid, but he sure wasn’t that desperate. Besides. Dean glances at you in the rearview mirror munching away on a cheeseburger. There was someone worth waiting for...but not forever, you know. A man has needs.

A playful smile tugs at the corner of Dean’s lips as you come upon the motel. His sour mood from earlier slowly dissipating as one of his favorite parts of working a case soon awaits. Dean pulls into the only available spot and parks in front of room seventeen. The only benefit to checking into motels at the last minute was the lack of rooms. He’d almost always find some excuse for you to bunk with him saying things like, “You know Sam really spreads out once his face hits the pillow.”

He just couldn’t help the way being around you made him feel. Lying next to you after a long day’s work, a natural warmth radiating from you to slowly lap against his back, enticing him to wrap you in his arms. Carefully turning ever so slightly not to wake you so he could watch you dream, the slow steady movement of your chest lulling him to sleep. Then somewhere between sleep and consciousness he’d scoot closer, slip his arms around your waist, and pull you to his chest, the scent of your shampoo filling his nose as he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck.

Your warmth would spread throughout his body, encompassing his heart in a protective ball of warmth, safety, and lavender. This is what kept him fighting. What enabled him to go out and hunt monsters every day not knowing whether there would be another. But the feeling of holding you in his arms washed away every fear, worry, and doubt that coursed through him. You kept him fighting. You kept him alive.

Of course, he would never admit this to your face. How could he? Aside from the usual flirtatious banter, you’ve shown no interest in him; walking away every time you’d go out drinking after a case, leaving him to settle for whatever bimbo approached him next. Dean could take the fear of rejection, that was no issue. The thought of losing your friendship, your company, is what shattered his bravado to pieces. For Dean was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve.

Come morning, every morning, Dean would reluctantly leave the bed to retrieve coffee and breakfast, blaming his actions on his subconscious liking to cuddle with whatever lies next to him upon your inquiries later that day. The clockwork routine always left Dean with the desire for more. More time with you wrapped in his arms. More moments alone with you. More than just a friendship.

“Dean, you okay?” You ask him through the driver’s window. “You seem out of it.” Dean closes his eyes and slowly rubs his forehead as if massaging his brain.

“Yeah, uhh-” he gazes at your face examining each feature. For a split second, you could have sworn his eyes sparkled, adoration filling his features before his usual hard mask of sarcasm and one-liners returned.

“Withdrawal’s a bitch,” he finishes. “Haven’t had a beer or decent slice of pie all day.” You nod your head lowering your gaze, wishing the glint in his eyes would return. It suited him. “We should probably get the bags out of the back.”

“While you were busy daydreaming, I went and unloaded the car,” you tease and back up to let him out of the Impala, sending your arms out to display the duffel bags hanging from your shoulders. Dean purses his lips and walks towards you, an eyebrow questioningly raised at your defiant tone. He closes the distance between you and stares you down.

“Not that daydreaming isn’t productive,” you hedge, and take a few steps back. Dean follows never allowing more than two steps to lie between you. “In this line of work, it’s pretty much the closest we’ll ever come to happiness.” 

You stop and look up into his emerald green eyes. Your heart flutters as you get lost swimming in his deep forest pools. “So, dream on,” you murmur, your once witty remark lost in the depth of his stare. A playful smirk spreads across his lips, and you hurriedly avert your eyes.

“Y/n, I-”

You wave your hands and sigh heavily cutting Dean off. “I know, I know. No chick flick moments. You’ve only told me a million times,” you laugh pointedly, looking down at your sneakers. Dean scoffs, the playful smirk replaced by one Sisyphean in nature.

“Right,” he mutters and stares across the lot, his mind once again lost in creating endless possibilities that will never be. He clears his throat and watches his brother return with your room keys. “Well, which one are we Sammy?”

“Seventeen. Y/n, you’re in twenty-four,” Sam says, tossing you a key.

“Go figure,” Dean grumbles under his breath and grabs his duffel bag from your shoulder. When he finally starts looking forward to lying next to you Sam has to go and get two rooms.  

“You can have the single if you want,” you say holding the key out to Dean, your eyes meeting his. “I’ll room with Sam.” Your gaze lingers for a moment longer trying to decipher what lies behind those emerald irises.

“Don’t mind if I do.” His calloused fingers brush yours as he plucks the key from your grasp. “Could use the alone time, if you know what I mean.” He winks and saunters off to his room. You shake your head at his antics and watch as he sashays away.

“No, I get it Winchester,” you holler after him. “Gotta make time to pamper yourself. Maybe take a nice bubble bath. Relax.” He stops dead in his tracks and spins, fire raging behind his eyes. He storms over, a stern finger pointed at you, and leans close bringing his eyes level with yours.

“That was one time!” he snarls, “And you swore you’d never say a word.” You bite your lip as the memory bubbles to the surface.

A few days had passed since your last hunt, and nothing was sticking out in the papers. You had made a collective decision to take a break for awhile and rest up before the next end of the world. After binge-watching Netflix with Sam, you headed to the bathroom to take a shower. You padded along down the halls of the bunker and mindlessly opened the bathroom door to find Dean stretched out in the clawfoot tub you had the boys install.

Scents of lavender, cherry blossoms, and vanilla filled the small room. The few candles you kept near the tub were lit. The flickering light casting a warm glow across Dean’s face as he lays surrounded by mountains of bubbles, his feet poking out of the soapy range to rest atop the tub edge. A shit-eating grin unfurls across your lips, knowing you were never going to let him live this down. You let him relax for a moment longer, examining the calm expression set upon his features before teasing him. 

“Nice, isn’t it?” you ask. His eyes shoot open at the sound of your voice, his feet slipping back into the tub as he instinctually covers himself.

“No,” he scoffs. “I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” You hum your skepticism and continue to the pile of bath bottles littered on the floor. You pick one up and examine what little contents remain.

“Please tell me you didn’t use all my bubble bath,” you sigh.

“They all smelled so good, okay. But look, I’ll buy you new ones as long as you don’t speak a word of this to Sam.” You weigh your options and decide fooling him into buying you expensive body wash is worth its weight in embarrassment.

“Fine,” you sigh, walking to the tub and extend your hand in truce. He pulls his hand from the water and shakes yours, droplets of warm water running from his hand to yours and down your forearm.

“Care to join me?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. You release his hand, rolling your eyes, and exit the bathroom.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

The sting from your teeth digging into your bottom lip snaps you back to reality. You stare back at him, unrelenting. “I swear a lot, Dean. Are you sure about that?”

“I’m sure you enjoyed the view of me naked in a bathtub,” he purrs in your ear. “Each bubble slowly popping to expose a big-”

“Don’t push your luck, Winchester,” you tease, playfully slapping his arm a few times. “You’re gonna need it.” You turn and walk with Sam to your room.

You were going to miss curling up beside Dean. It seemed to calm your nerves and make the stress of hunting somewhat bearable. Plus you liked the way his chest felt pressed to yours, but good god you weren’t going to tell him that.

“Maybe I should have been the one to bunk alone after the moment you two had back there,” Sam laughs. “You seriously need to get a room already.”

“Shut it, Sammy,” you grumble and plop your bag down on the bed.

Read Part Two here

[angry-ace]

I was tagged by the inspiring @barbex who's fictober challenge I am doing

Rules: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on: writing, art, gifsets, whatever.

I’m gonna tag people that are waaaaay to cool for me but who’s to stop me my anxiety probably @crunchie-morris who by the way has the BEST jackcrutchie modern au that I love with my whole heart and @your-brother-crutchie who is my go-to sprace blog both Sami and Rowan own my entire ass guys not in a sexual way but in a you’re my idol and I want to write like you way  also @one-true-houselight who’s got some pretty cute original fic stuff going, and lastly my son Thayne @king-of-newyork whom’s’t I love with my whole heart

Fuck this is gonna be long

Fanfics:

-my Jackcrutchie Mermaid au

-my newsbians fantasy au

-my hella angsty sprace au where Spot is a farmer not a newsie

-yesterday's fictober prompt that I accidentally fell asleep before finishing oops

Original fics (I'm going to be including both the works I've started and the ones that I wish to start but are currently just ideas rattling around my brain. As I was summarizing this I realized how messed up some of these are so I’m gonna give a content warning for death, abuse, body horror?, cannibalism, supernatural evils, attempted rape:

-a post apocalyptic novel about a group of teenagers who become refugees after their hometown is attacked by bandits and they end up fighting some cannibals and shit 

- currently there’s kinda an idea for a horror book in my brain about an evil ghost that preys on mentally ill people because neurotypicals find us less credible. Don’t worry the ghost gets killed in the end by a kickass lady and the sibling of one of its victims.

-  A woman is with her older sister, her niece, and her brother in law when the zombie apocalypse starts. Her parents were scientists and she was named after one of their coworkers.The brother in law is bitten and killed and the sister kills herself shortly thereafter. The protagonist is left to care for her niece. They end up in this community run by a tyrannical guy who sends the niece away against her will. She escapes and wanders alone until she’s scratched by a raccoon. The scratch gets infected but she's saved by another woman. They begin dating and find a new community that’s actually safe and good. They get word of the niece and decide to leave together to find her.

- A teenage boy with monoplegia in one of his legs caused by a spinal injury navigates the zombie apocalypse. His journey begins with his mother, infant sibling, and abusive father who escaped jail at the start of the apocalypse. He was in jail for causing the car crash that injured the protagonist by driving drunk. To escape a zombie horde the father throws the baby into the mob and the mother runs in after the baby, they both die. The protagonist is left with his abusive father who is eventually killed by a badass afab agender hero in a hotel. The hotel is overrun by the dead and they escape together. Once outside they steal a car with a key in the ignition. They drive for miles heading towards a refuge from the dead, a safe community where they can live out the rest of their lives in safety, when they hear noises coming from the trunk. They open the truck, expecting to kill a member of the undead, but are instead surprised by the presence of a kidnapped teenage girl. They drive together to the community but the protagonist is denied entrance because of his disability. The girl enters the community but the protagonist and agender badass move on. They encounter a group of other disabled people who were denied entrance to the safe haven. Notable members are a spunky autistic girl, and a deaf young woman who turns out to be the sister of the teenage girl they’d previously traveled with.

- Okay so Nina Normal is a transracial adoptee from India who is living in Kansas. She was adopted when she was a baby so she never meets her birth parents and they literally never become a plot point. She visits her uncle in his science lab and is caught in the explosion of a particle accelerator that gives her super speed. She starts fighting bigots with her best friend Maia, a Japanese teen who is an aspiring voice actress. She also attempts to dismantle Narcorp, a company responsible for selling the faulty lab equipment that caused her accident who’s goal is to cause people to get super powers so that they can have a super powered army.

-Okay so this one is an ace lesbian named Lana has a super abusive mom and also she is a princess. She’s a painter and has magic but she has dyslexia so finds it difficult to read spellbooks. There’s this army that trying to overthrow the queen and she joins them after her mom throws her out of the house after she attempts suicide. In the army she meets a girl Mary and she and Mary start dating. The queen’s army threatens to attack Mary’s army while it’s weak and Lana gives herself up to protect Mary. Lana’s mom tries to do a ritual to remove Lana’s magic for herself but it’s interrupted by Lana’s father, who she’s never met, rescuing her. Lana’s dad returns her to Mary and helps aid the overthrow of the queen. Lana and Mary have a huge fight about Lana’s mother’s execution and Lana goes to study magic in her father’s court. Lana’s dad turns out to be a dickhead, he tries to make Lana get married to a dude but obviously she doesn’t want to because she’s gay and also still hung up on Mary. The dude gets drunk and tries to rape Lana but she uses a spell to make him start throwing up and get really sick. Lana returns to Mary and helps dissolve the monarchy in her home queendom. It basically becomes a lovely anarchist commune and Mary and Lana get back together and also get married and live happily ever after.

- Okay so this one doesn’t have any humans. It takes place in a different solar system on the planet of Oceana. Oceana is almost entirely water and it has a bunch of different mermaid cultures and types of mermaids. There are polar mermaids that live in the cold areas, can survive on the ice, they have gills and tails, the way they walk is by digging their claws into the ice and dragging themselves around. The deep sea mermaids are more like angler fish, they have super great hearing and rather than speaking and doing hand motions like polar mermaids they communicate by flashing their lights. Basically the different mermaid tribes are at war and idk the mc is trying to resolve the conflict. The mermaids would be different sizes based on whatever fish they’re supposed to be.

-So there’s this evil group trying to turn people superpowered to do espionage shit idk. And they kidnap a bunch of at-risk teens to experiment on giving them powers or to study their naturally occuring powers. The kids eventually escape during an attack on the lab by a group opposing the scientists, but some of the kids got left behind. They begin working with the attackers to rescue their friends. What happened to them has some fallout on the kids like the mc’s boyfriend becomes addicted to drugs from his struggle to cope. Eventually the kids that got left behind are rescued. Some of them don’t want to keep fighting the organiation and move on. Other’s feel like their lives have purpose since they began the fight and keep at it. The one’s who moved on get roped back into it when the organization attacks a very public place and their guilt gets them involved.

[fusionbolts-archive]

NPC Headcanon; buckle up boys and girls, it’s time for fun facts about Lucia Devine - Hero of Ideals, princess of Unova, and queen of my heart & soul. Focusing mostly on her life and influence after the twins vanished, with a bit of detail regarding her childhood and life while her father wasn’t presumed dead and such for context’s sake.

For an overview, Lucia was Adair’s second child, three years younger than her brother Edgar. She was practically the spitting image of Adair growing up, a born troublemaker who, despite (or maybe because of) her enthusiasm, tended to pick fights and get herself in over her head quite a bit. Lucia was 14 when the twins were presumed dead.

 The best place to start with Lucia is immediately after the first War of Truth and Ideals; her father had undergone some pretty traumatic events near the end of the war with, you know, nearly burning to death, and (understandably) wasn’t acting anything like his usual self after he was well enough to be up and about again. To Clara’s credit, she tried her best to look after Lucia and Edgar during the immediate aftermath, but there was a lot that ended up falling on her--trying to help Adair adjust, helping to bridging the gap between the twins while they settled everything with their truce, and so on--which meant Lucia’s... shenanigans could go under the radar for a while. It was during this time that she first really started approaching Zekrom, quickly finding the dragon to be a good companion and playing with them fairly often. (And its no secret that Zekrom absolutely ADORES her; she is, hands down, probably the most important person in the world to them, even today, now that she's long gone.) Within the next few years, Zekrom came to realize that Lucia had the right traits to become the Hero of Ideals - this information was shared with Adair so he could begin teaching her what she'd need to know. At about twelve, Adair first began to teach her combat, and soon after she began to accompany him while he worked on restoring Unova with Zekrom's help.

Now, her story really begins with the second war. After her brother & cousin finished, you know, destroying everything and Adair pinned it all on the dragons, Lucia was extremely distressed over what would happen to Zekrom. So much so that she went to eavesdrop on her father while he and Shinri (and Ephreith) decided what to do about the dragons. And then confronted her father on it shortly before he went to apply the dragon stone seal to the Dark Stone, saying it was unfair to seal Zekrom away and trying to stop him. Both of them said a lot of things that they ended up regretting; basically, Lucia's last conversation with her father did not end on a good note, and she ultimately failed to prevent Zekrom from being sealed in the Dark Stone. Shortly thereafter, the twins' families would find out of their (presumed) deaths, the twins' sons would refuse inheritance of the crown because of the general dislike (if that isn't putting it likely) towards them after the second war, and ultimately Ephreith would step up and take over ruling Unova with no one else suitable for the job.

In the following years, Lucia would soon come to realize that Ephreith was not to be trusted. It began when she first saw how manipulative of her family he truly was; she certainly had her suspicions before then, however - something about the fact that he created the seal that apparently resulted in the twins' deaths never sat right with her as 'an accident' - but she truly began to catch on when she finally got her brother and cousin to open up about what happened, noticing how strange it seemed that Ephreith had essentially encouraged Allen to begin the war, but still warned Edgar of what was about to happen. In the following months, his more manipulative nature would become clear as Lucia began to pay closer attention.

As her distrust for Ephreith grew, she felt more and more convinced of a need to take action against him. This began with her mission to break the seal on the Dragon Stones and release Zekrom - however, she was well aware Ephreith, and the rest of Unova, for that matter, wanted the Dragons out of the way and would never allow her to go through with something like that. Meaning - Lucia had to do this in secret, sneaking the Seal Book from the castle (often with help from Elias, Ephreith's son) and spending evenings studying it in secret to find a solution. Ephreith quickly caught on, however; he would do everything he could to prevent her from succeeding in breaking the seals, while Lucia would find ways around that to continue working at it. When Ephreith discovered Kyurem's existence and attempted to create the DNA splicers to recreate the original dragon, Lucia caught on (through, you guessed it, eavesdropping and finding out from Elias that his father had gone over the deep end) and did everything in her power to hinder his success in turn.

The reason Ephreith couldn't really do anything to Lucia to get her to stop was that he was still trying to preserve some semblance of trust - namely, from some of the important people the twins had known like Nymphadora, Magni and the Shadow Walkers in general, and so forth. Retaliating against Lucia would likely cause suspicion, as there was no apparent reason for it; in turn, Lucia was extremely hesitant to share the truth about Ephreith after being dismissed by her brother on the subject, fearing her mother and the others who had been friends with the both twins and Ephreith wouldn't want to believe her. (Around this time, a series of other Awful Things seemed to go down around Lucia - Elle falling ill, Allen's death, and her brother running away. With all the other things her mother had going on at the time, Lucia couldn't bring herself to tell Clara that Ephreith may or may not have been the one responsible for Adair's death.)

Anyway - around the age of 18, Lucia and Elias were engaged, much to the dismay of Ephreith, who was still in the process of trying to create a working DNA splicer. He had to devise a way to get Lucia out of his hair without any cause for suspicion - and fortunately for him, there was one, and it would be to Unova's benefit as well. Lucia, unlike her father, had been very much in support of briding the gap between Unova and Kalos and forming an alliance. After all, Unova was still struggling recover from the aftermath of the second war, had little external trade going, and was generally probably going to collapse if they couldn't find help from another region. Ephreith became aware of this - likely through Elias - and decided to use that to his advantage by making contact with Kalos and proposing Lucia go off as an ambassador of sorts. (Who was, of course, fairly suited for the job, being fluent in Kalosian/French thanks to her mother and... you know, a former-slash-future princess / essentially a noblewoman, which would make for some very good appearances while in Kalos.)

So, both Lucia and Ephreith knew the real reason he wanted her to go to Kalos; she was understandably hesitant about agreeing, but knew, with Unova's position and all, she couldn't really refuse. As it turned out, this was one of the biggest decisions she would make in her life. She left for Kalos several months later and would stay for about a year. Anyone who's familiar with her character would probably assume this was recipe for disaster, but fortunately for everyone involved, Lucia isn’t the tactless doofus her father was. While away, she was quite successful in winning over the Kalosian nobility (although initially she wasn’t received very well due to being half-Isshu and... yeah that was fun) and managed to convince them that the two regions should reconcile. (Meanwhile, Ephreith was trying his damnedest to get Elias to call off his engagement with Lucia without much success. And also trying to combine the dragons, which... due to Kyurem being P.O.’d, was also not succeeding.) Even after returning to Unova, however, Lucia would remain as something of an ambassador to Kalos for the rest of her life, often visiting every few years or so. Those fancy Reshiram and Zekrom statues in Kalos? Yep, they were constructed as a show of friendship between Unova and Kalos very late in Lucia’s life, unveiled during one of her last visits.

On top of that, Lucia and Elias were married shortly after her return, meaning when Elias inherited his father’s crown, Lucia was Queen Regent of Unova. And, boy, did she use the power (and freedom from Shitmonia getting in the way). Beyond re-establishing external trade via alliance with Kalos, she also worked tirelessly to preserve whatever remained of Isshu culture, to the point that even thought what remained was very, very little - after all, Kalos had practically tried to stamp it out entirely - almost all of its survival can be attributed to Lucia. In a somewhat similar vein, re-assumed the Devine family’s role of managing the royal guard as well, at least when she wasn’t in Kalos. Though she was never directly involved in it, she held responsibility for making sure the guard was overseen and acting justly. Additionally, of course, she also helped Elias in ruling Unova, giving him advice and opinions on matters - allegedly, everything he did as king, he ran by Lucia first. 

Lucia's historical significance is hard to overstate; she's recognized both in Unova and Kalos for her contribution in bringing the two regions together in friendship after many, many years of animosity between them, as well as for the work she did in re-stablizing Unova in her time as Queen Regent. However, almost completely forgotten to history was her relationship to the Twin Heroes, as they largely faded into mythological figures, and connection to Zekrom; furthermore, history tends to remember her best by her married name, Lucia Harmonia, rather than by her maiden name, Devine, with the latter being recorded only very, very rarely.

[makerkenzie]

What if Jaime hadn’t joined the Kingsguard?

I just posed this What If scenario a few minutes ago, I’ve given it some thought, and I’m formulating a scenario as I write it. This’ll get long. Buckle up, Buttercup.

The change is: rather than join the Kingsguard at age 15, Jaime goes straight home to Casterly Rock and takes up his position as his father’s dutiful heir. From there, what happens differently?

At first, this scenario seems to revolve around Jaime, but now that I think about it, the first thing to change, and possibly the most important factor, is that Tywin does not resign as Hand as quickly as he does.

The tourney at Harrenhal still happens, and maybe Jaime competes along with all the other young knights, but Jaime’s presence is hardly an issue. Even if Jaime wins the tourney, the Knight of the Laughing Tree still appears, and Rhaegar still makes off with Lyanna Stark shortly thereafter, so the war still happens.

This time, the war begins with Tywin still serving as Hand, and Aerys has been increasingly hostile to him for years, so, when Aerys starts taking a huge shit all over the feudal contract (which he still does even with Tywin trying to clean up after him), Tywin decides he needs to get the hell out. Like Jaime said in the show version, Tywin isn’t one to pick the losing side. 

However, since he’s still serving as Hand when the war breaks out, he’s in such a position that a) he must choose a side in the war early on, but that’s okay, because b) he’s in a much better place to determine the winning side. 

Knowing what we do about Tywin, this is what I think would happen if he were still the King’s Hand when Rickard and Brandon Stark were murdered:

Tywin writes to the Baratheon-Tully-Stark-Arryn coalition, says: I want to join your side, so here’s what I have to offer, and here’s what I expect in return.

The rebels write back: You ballsy SOB, where have you been all this time?

So this is how he joins the rebels: he sneaks out of the Red Keep in the middle of the night with his household guard, and he shows up at Riverrun with his army, and most of the royal family in their custody. The Lannisters have Queen Rhaella, Prince Viserys, Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys, and someone can correct my chronology, but I think Elia’s pregnant with Aegon at this time. Or she may not have even conceived Aegon by then. They have Viserys, so Aegon isn’t necessary. At that early stage in the war, the rebels aren’t really committed to anyone in particular as the new king, just that they need to get rid of Aerys and Rhaegar. Tywin’s terms are that he brings his army to the rebels’ cause, BUT Viserys will be the new king, Tywin will be his Hand, and (let’s say) Jon Arryn will be Lord Regent until Viserys comes of age. Viserys will marry Cersei; the age difference is cumbersome, but not prohibitive. Once Aerys is dead, Rhaella will choose a new husband from the rebel lords. (That was her requirement for leaving the Red Keep quietly.) They write to the Martells and say: look, the Tullys are hosting Elia and her daughter at Riverrun, so you might as well join our side. 

The Martells join the rebels. Back at Casterly Rock, Jaime is involved in the war effort, but Tywin makes sure he doesn’t fight in any actual battles, as he doesn’t want his heir dying young. Since Tywin is in such a position of power in the war, he’s abandoned his plans of marrying Jaime to Lysa Tully, thinking he’ll select a daughter of whatever lord serves him the best. With the Lannisters and the Martells on the rebel side, there’s literally no incentive for the Tyrells to stick with the Targaryens, so they don’t. The Greyjoys are still on the sidelines, and the royalists are extravagantly outnumbered and outgunned, so the war ends a lot sooner. There’s no Wildfire Plot. Rhaegar is killed or taken prisoner at a much earlier date, and once he’s under control, the rebels batter down the gates of King’s Landing, without the trickery of pretending to be on the royalist side. By this point, Aerys may have one or two Kingsguard knights still with him, but the rebels cut through them quick enough, they clap Aerys in a dungeon cell, and a public execution is quickly arranged for both him and Rhaegar. Tywin passes the sentence, and Ilyn Payne swings the sword. 

Basically, Robert’s Rebellion becomes the War of Brothers, as Viserys is the rebellion’s favored candidate over Rhaegar.

Boom, they crown Viserys, boom, he gets married to Cersei, and he’s much too young to consummate the marriage, so he can’t abuse her like Robert does. I mean, Viserys is never going to be great husband material, but he’s also a very young kid, so, that puts Cersei in a much more powerful position relative to him. Rhaella has married a nice River lord who gets a seat on the Small Council, and she mostly lives at the Red Keep and raises Viserys. She may have had another kid with her new husband, but she’s still invested in raising her little king. He’s still an obnoxious little beast, but with his mother’s influence, and with the stability of not living in abject poverty as his little sister’s primary caregiver in Essos, he’s a lot easier to manage. Since Rhaella got away from Aerys, and he was executed much sooner, there is no Daenerys, which means Essos is much less of a concern for Westeros.

Since Elia and Rhaenys were part of the deal Tywin brought to the rebels, they’re more valuable to him alive. Following Viserys’s coronation, Elia and Rhaenys go back to Sunspear to be with her family. If Aegon exists, he stays with his mother at first, and when he’s old enough to serve as a page, he fosters with another Dornish family. The Martells do not hate the Lannisters. Oberyn is not determined to get revenge on anyone. 

Of course, if Aegon exists, the argument could be made that he should inherit the throne ahead of Viserys. Elia isn’t interested in another war, so she convinces her brothers to let well enough alone and let Viserys be king. They use Aegon as a bargaining chip with the crown; they get Oberyn a seat on the Small Council, which he uses as a position to get favorable conditions for Dorne, and in return, they do not attempt a coup with Elia’s son.

Jon Arryn is still married to Lysa, who still has a very hard time producing a healthy child and is still obsessed with Littlefinger and way too wrapped up in her kid, but Littlefinger is not on the Small Council. Tywin convinces Jon Arryn to send Lysa back to the Eyrie with their sickly kid before she can do any damage at the Red Keep. 

Since the crown is still technically with the Targaryens, Varys is not interested in destabilizing the realm. Since Littlefinger was not allowed a toehold in Viserys’s reign, he is not in a position to bankrupt the realm or turn the Starks and Lannisters against each other. Since Tywin was put in such a position that the Sack of King’s Landing was not an option, the Starks don’t think the Lannisters are scum. Since Jaime was never in the Kingsguard, he never became the Kingslayer. Cersei is still a trainwreck, but with such a different dynamic between her and Viserys, she never sees any need to cuckold her husband; eventually he comes of age, they consummate their marriage, and she gives birth to a new silver-haired prince or princess. Rhaella is still present, and she takes an interest in her grandchild. Since the child is not the product of full-sibling incest, it’s a nice kid, and with the involvement of people like Grandma Rhaella and Grampa Tywin, the kid is growing up to be a promising heir to the throne. Cersei’s still awful, and Viserys is still a mess, but their kid is turning out quite nicely.

(And even if Cersei does decide to cuckold Viserys, she can’t do it with Jaime, which means she doesn’t produce a kid like Joffrey. Even if she cuckolds Viserys, it isn’t such a surprise to see a golden-haired child fathered by a Targaryen, so she probably doesn’t get caught any time soon.)

Robert Baratheon is Lord of Storm’s End. He’s married to a good healthy Stormlander who gives him several black-haired children and politely rolls her eyes while he fucks the serving girls. Stannis is among his household knights. Renly is basically their court jester. None of them are anywhere near the line of succession to the throne.

Because the war ended much earlier, Ned Stark finds Lyanna at the Tower of Joy when she’s still in early pregnancy. He takes her back to Winterfell, where she most likely survives her labor just fine. She raises Jon along with Ned and Cat’s kids. The Stark kids grow up with an aunt and cousin, and Cat does not spend her marriage believing her husband sired a bastard. Even if Lyanna still dies at Jon’s birth, the rebels won the war by such a wide margin, Ned sees no point in lying about Jon’s parentage. 

Eventually, Viserys reaches the age of sixteen, which means there’s no place for a regency, and Jon Arryn steps down. Maybe he goes home to his psycho wife and sickly kid in the Vale, or maybe he takes another Small Council seat. I’d wrangle a new Small Council position if the alternative were going home to Lysa. Anyway, Tywin has figured out by now that Viserys has the Targaryen madness like his batshit father, and now that he’s reached adulthood, there’s only so much Tywin can do to mitigate the effects of his awfulness. Cersei isn’t helping. Rhaella is a stabilizing influence, but Viserys only listens to his mother up to a point, and Rhaella won’t live forever. Tywin won’t live forever, either. He doesn’t want the realm to be at the mercy of another Mad King, and have another uprising, so once Cersei’s produced a healthy son, he arranges a quick death for Viserys and makes it look like an accident. Thus, Tywin’s little grandson is the new king, and he’s still the Hand.

Jaime is married to a bannerman’s daughter and serving as Acting Lord of Casterly Rock as his father has basically committed the rest of his life to King’s Landing. Tywin appoints Jaime’s wife’s father as the new regent for his grandson, not because this lord makes a really good ruler, but because he’ll be cooperative with Tywin. Because Jaime is at Casterly Rock and Tywin and Cersei aren’t, Tyrion is much happier and does not develop alcoholism. Because Jaime respects Tyrion’s intellect and values his opinion, they work together in governing the Westerlands. 

Of course, Cersei has still heard Maggy’s prophecy, so she still thinks Tyrion is her enemy, but since Jaime and Tywin agree on keeping Tyrion in the west and Cersei in the capital, Cersei is not in a position to abuse her little brother.

There are several points at which shit could go pear-shaped. Tywin might decide to execute Elia and her kids after all, which means the Martells are still plotting against the Lannisters. Cersei might cuckold Viserys and get caught much earlier, which leads to another succession crisis. Jon Snow and Aegon VI could still be put forth as claimants to the throne. Viserys could fuck things up as soon as he’s old enough to rule. Rhaella might disagree with Tywin’s governance and start working to undermine him. Varys might decide he isn’t happy with Viserys and start working on pulling the realm out from under him before Tywin has a chance to arrange his early death. 

Meanwhile, if Jon Snow is born under better circumstances, then he’s not under pressure to join the Night’s Watch. If he doesn’t join the Watch, he doesn’t make friends with Sam Tarly, and he doesn’t see the White Walkers show up. 

[hipsterbrutus]

Changed Pronouns Hamlet

So I wanted to see what a classic story like Hamlet would be like if all the male characters were female and vice versa. So I just took the Wikipedia summary, and changed only the names and pronouns. The results really interested me, and I think this would be a very epic play...  Disclaimers: 1. I changed some of the names more than others, mainly because some of them were so ingrained in my head as one gender or another that I needed to distance myself further from that association. 2. I chose to go with the name ‘Amla’ as a feminized tribute to the original historical Prince Amleth, on whom Hamlet is based. 3. I chose to use binary male/female genders for this experiment because I wanted to explore the contrasts and stereotypes of the roles that we expect binary male and female characters in literature to fulfill. (The only gender neutral change I made was to change ‘What a piece of work is a man’ to ‘humanity’ instead, since it is used in a gender neutral way in the play. I am aware that this would necessitate further challenges with the wordplay on ‘man’ that follows in the actual script, but this change suffices for now.) All that to say, non-binary version of this story or of some of the characters therein would also be epic as well, and if you write that one I would love to read it. 

Act I

The protagonist of Amla is Princess Amla of Denmark, daughter of the recently deceased Queen Amla, and niece of Queen Claudia, her mother's sister and successor. Claudia hastily married Queen Amla's widower, Gerald, Amla's father, and took the throne for herself. Denmark has a long-standing feud with neighbouring Norway, in which Queen Amla slew Queen Floria of Norway in a battle some years ago. Although Denmark defeated Norway and the Norwegian throne fell to Queen Floria's infirm sister, Denmark fears that an invasion led by the dead Norwegian queen's daughter, Princess Floria, is imminent.

On a cold night on the ramparts of Elsinore, the Danish royal castle, the sentries Bernadette and Marcella discuss a ghost resembling the late Queen Amla which they have recently seen, and bring Princess Amla's friend Hanna as a witness. After the ghost appears again, the three vow to tell Princess Amla what they have witnessed.

As the court gathers the next day, while Queen Claudia and King Gerald discuss affairs of state with their elderly adviser Polina, Amla looks on glumly. During the court, Claudia grants permission for Polina's daughter Laetitia to return to school in France and sends envoys to inform the Queen of Norway about Floria. Claudia also scolds Amla for continuing to grieve over her mother and forbids her to return to her schooling in Wittenberg. After the court exits, Amla despairs of her mother's death and her father's hasty remarriage. Learning of the ghost from Hanna, Amla resolves to see it herself.

As Polina's daughter Laetitia prepares to depart for a visit to France, Polina offers her advice that culminates in the maxim "to thine own self be true.” Polina's son, Orpheus, admits his interest in Amla, but Laetitia warns him against seeking the princess' attention, and Polina orders him to reject her advances. That night on the rampart, the ghost appears to Amla, telling the princess that she was murdered by Claudia and demanding that Amla avenge her. Amla agrees, and the ghost vanishes. The princess confides to Hanna and the sentries that from now on she plans to "put an antic disposition on", or act as though she has gone mad, and forces them to swear to keep her plans for revenge secret; however, she remains uncertain of the ghost's reliability.

Act II

Soon thereafter, Orpheus rushes to his mother, telling her that Amla arrived at his door the prior night half-undressed and behaving erratically. Polina blames love for Amla's madness and resolves to inform Claudia and Gerald. As she enters to do so, the Queen and King finish welcoming Rosaline and Genevieve, two student acquaintances of Amla, to Elsinore. The royal couple has requested that the students investigate the cause of Amla's mood and behaviour. Additional news requires that Polina wait to be heard: messengers from Norway inform Claudia that the Queen of Norway has rebuked Princess Floria for attempting to re-fight her mother's battles. The forces that Floria had conscripted to march against Denmark will instead be sent against Poland, though they will pass through Danish territory to get there.

Polina tells Claudia and Gerald her theory regarding Amla's behaviour and speaks to Amla in a hall of the castle to try to uncover more information. Amla feigns madness and subtly insults Polina all the while. When Roseline and Genevieve arrive, Amla greets her "friends" warmly but quickly discerns that they are spies. Amla admits that she is upset at her situation but refuses to give the true reason, instead commenting on "What a piece of work is humanity". Roseline and Genevieve tell Amla that they have brought along a troupe of actors that they met while traveling to Elsinore. Amla, after welcoming the actors and dismissing her friends-turned-spies, asks them to deliver a soliloquy about the death of the Queen and King at the climax of the Trojan War. Impressed by their delivery of the speech, she plots to stage The Murder of Gonzaga, a play featuring a death in the style of her mother's murder and to determine the truth of the ghost's story, as well as Claudia’s guilt or innocence, by studying Claudia's reaction.

Act III

Polina forces Orpheus to return Amla's love letters and tokens of affection to the princess while she and Claudia watch from afar to evaluate Amla's reaction. Amla is walking alone in the hall as the Queen and Polina await Orpheus's entrance, musing whether "to be or not to be". When Orpheus enters and tries to return Amla's things, Amla accuses him of immodesty and cries "get thee to a monastery", though it is unclear whether this, too, is a show of madness or genuine distress. Her reaction convinces Claudia that Amla is not mad for love. Shortly thereafter, the court assembles to watch the play Amla has commissioned. After seeing the Player Queen murdered by her rival pouring poison in her ear, Claudia abruptly rises and runs from the room; for Amla, this is proof positive of her aunt's guilt.

Gerald summons Amla to his chamber to demand an explanation. Meanwhile, Claudia talks to herself about the impossibility of repenting, since she still has possession of her ill-gotten goods: her sister's crown and husband. She sinks to her knees. Amla, on her way to visit her father, sneaks up behind her but does not kill her, reasoning that killing Claudia while she is praying will send her straight to heaven while her mother's ghost is stuck in purgatory. In the King's bedchamber, Amla and Gerald fight bitterly. Polina, spying on the conversation from behind a tapestry, calls for help as Gerald, believing Amla wants to kill him, calls out for help himself.

Amla, believing it is Claudia, stabs wildly, killing Polina, but she pulls aside the curtain and sees her mistake. In a rage, Amla brutally insults her father for his apparent ignorance of Claudia's villainy, but the ghost of her mother re-enters and reprimands Amla for her inaction and harsh words. Unable to see or hear the ghost himself, Gerald takes Amla's conversation with it as further evidence of madness. After begging the King to stop sleeping with Claudia, Amla leaves, dragging Polina's corpse away.

Act IV

Amla jokes with Claudia about where she has hidden Polina's body, and the Queen, fearing for her life, sends Roseline and Genevieve to accompany Amla to England with a sealed letter to the English Queen requesting that Amla be executed immediately.

Unhinged by grief at Polina's death, Orpheus wanders Elsinore. Laetitia arrives back from France, enraged by her mother's death and her brother's madness. Claudia convinces Laetitia that Amla is solely responsible, but a letter soon arrives indicating that Amla has returned to Denmark, foiling Claudia's plan. Claudia switches tactics, proposing a fencing match between Laetitia and Amla to settle their differences. Laetitia will be given a poison-tipped foil, and, if that fails, Claudia will offer Amla poisoned wine as a congratulation. Gerald interrupts to report that Orpheus has drowned, though it is unclear whether it was suicide or an accident caused by his madness.

Act V

Hanna has received a letter from Amla, explaining that the princess escaped by negotiating with pirates who attempted to attack her England-bound ship, and the friends reunite offstage. Two gravediggers discuss Orpheus’s apparent suicide while digging his grave. Amla arrives with Hanna and banters with one of the gravediggers, who unearths the skull of a jester from Amla's childhood, Yora. Amla picks up the skull, saying "alas, poor Yora" as she contemplates mortality. Orpheus's funeral procession approaches, led by Laetitia. Amla and Hanna initially hide, but when Amla realizes that Orpheus is the one being buried, she reveals herself, proclaiming her love for him. Laetitia and Amla fight by Orpheus's graveside, but the brawl is broken up.

Back at Elsinore, Amla explains to Hanna that she had discovered Claudia's letter with Roseline and Genevieve's belongings and replaced it with a forged copy indicating that her former friends should be killed instead. A foppish courtier, Osra, interrupts the conversation to deliver the fencing challenge to Amla. Amla, despite Hanna's pleas, accepts it. Amla does well at first, leading the match by two hits to none, and Gerald raises a toast to her using the poisoned glass of wine Claudia had set aside for Amla. Claudia tries to stop him but is too late: he drinks, and Laetitia realizes the plot will be revealed. Laetitia slashes Amla with her poisoned blade. In the ensuing scuffle, they switch weapons, and Amla wounds Laetitia with her own poisoned sword. Gerald collapses and, claiming he has been poisoned, dies. In her dying moments, Laetitia reconciles with Amla and reveals Claudia's plan. Amla rushes at Claudia and kills her. As the poison takes effect, Amla, hearing that Floria is marching through the area, names the Norwegian princess as her successor. Hanna, distraught at the thought of being the last survivor and living whilst Amla does not, says she will commit suicide by drinking the dregs of Gerald's poisoned wine, but Amla begs her to live on and tell her story. Amla dies in Hanna's arms, proclaiming "the rest is silence". Floria, who was ostensibly marching towards Poland with her army, arrives at the palace, along with an English ambassador bringing news of Roseline and Genevieve's deaths. Hanna promises to recount the full story of what happened, and Floria, seeing the entire Danish royal family dead, takes the crown for herself and orders a military funeral to honour Amla.

[amberhopeportfolio]

Chicago Loon

“Lemondrop, we got mail from Daddy today! It’s been a long time since the last one!” Amor waved the envelope in his hand, tracking mud through the house. Lemon was lying on the couch. She wordlessly stood up, grabbed a towel, and began dabbing at the mud in the carpet. Amor dropped his head and apologized, took off his shoes, set them out on the porch and trotted back to his sister. Lemon smiled and pointed at the envelope in his hand, raising her eyebrow. He beamed back up at her.

Lemon usually got the mail but today she forgot.  Amor had found mail form their father a couple times before and frequently asked about more, to which Lemon always responded with a shrug and a smile. It was only ever money. No words and  no return address, just “DAD” written where it was supposed to be. It was his way of apologizing for leaving his kids alone in Chicago. The checks came once a month and just enough to cover rent and a couple day’s worth of groceries. Not nearly enough to survive on.

Amor opened the envelope carefully and hopefully. A check slid to the floor with a sticky note that read, “Sorry it’s not as much this time.” Lemon quickly picked it up before Amor could read it, took it to the kitchen and replaced it with a note she had already made that instead said, “Love you kiddos.” She knew that eventually, when Amor was older she would have to explain that their dad hadn’t been sending his love and that rather, he was a deadbeat, but by then, she would be talking again and thankfully, Amor was only eight and a slow reader. She handed Amor the sticky note she had written and kissed the top of his head.

Amor went to his room and sat at his desk to do his homework and draw a new picture for his sister like he did every day after school. Shortly thereafter, Lemon brought him a juice box and a package of Gushers for his after school snack and went back to the kitchen to start on dinner.

Lemon walked the length of the hallway to Amor’s bedroom countless times a day, longing to ask him about his day and to tell him the origin of his name. She longed to tell him that as her dying wish, their mother had spent a month in Italy with some friends. She was so in love with the place that when she came back, she decided she was in love with their father again, too, and so Amor was, if only for a night, made out of love. When she found out she was pregnant, their father had already started cheating with Beth again, moved out and got eloped. Theresa would walk around rubbing her stomach saying, “Mi Amore! Mi Amore!” My love. My love. The chosen name for Lemon’s little brother was Daniel, but their mother’s first words when she looked at him were breathlessly, “Mi Amore.” Later, when filling out the birth certificate, she wrote Amor Lune and whispered, “my little loon.” Lemon longed to call him her little loon, too, but Lemon wasn't speaking.

    Lemon hadn't spoken for eight years. When she was ten and Amor wasn't even a year old, the cancer finally caught up to their mother, Theresa. Theresa refused to go to the hospital. She insisted on spending as much time with her babies as she could. She didn’t want them to see her hooked up to a bunch of machines, she wanted to die peacefully at home with her children.

She knew she was getting weak, and the night she died, she knew she was going to die. She called Henry, the kids’ father, and told him to pick up the kids in the morning. She locked herself in her bedroom that night and told Lemon, “Baby, it’s time. You keep Mi Amore safe and take him with you to your daddy tomorrow morning when he comes to get you. I’ll be keeping you safe from the next life, sweetie.”  She tied a yellow piece of yarn around Lemon’s ankle, promising her it would keep her safe. Every time it thinned out, Lemon would tie a fresh piece around it, preserving the original piece.

Lemon had believed her, too. She resented her mother for making her think that she could still make sure nothing happened to her even though she was dead. She resented her mother for letting her believe things about death that just weren’t true. She missed her more than she resented her, but she resented her for leaving her and Amor in danger nonetheless.

It didn’t even take a whole month of living with her dad and stepmother before Beth started coming into Lemon’s room at night. Henry would go out drinking with the guys after work and wouldn’t come back until late. So Beth was left in charge and she was lonely and unstable.

Lemon was ten and Amor wasn’t even a year old yet so Lemon would rock him to sleep and sing him lullabies and put him to bed before going into her own room across the hall.

The first time, Beth brought her fresh baked cookies and told her it was their little secret, “I’ll give you what you want if you give me what I want, little Lemon, girl. Your daddy doesn’t get  cookies because he’s been bad but you have been very very good. You can get more cookies tomorrow night if you be good for me tonight.”

And so it went. Lemon would get cookies if she let Beth touch her any way she wanted to as long as she didn’t tell anyone. She tried once. She tried to tell her dad because she asked her best friend at school, who also had a stepmother, if she gave her cookies at nighttime,too. When her friend said no, she didn’t even have to tell her about the touching for Lemon to know that something was wrong. Beth convinced Henry that Lemon was lying because she just wanted him to tuck her in at night and that was the end of it. That night in Lemon’s room, Beth made her hurt and bleed and it only got worse from there. Lemon hasn’t said anything to anyone since.

Lemon didn’t say anything four years later when Henry came home early, fired, and found Beth doing the same thing to Amor as she did to Lemon. She didn’t say anything when Henry beat Beth and kicked her out. She didn’t say anything when he changed the locks so she couldn’t get back in and she didn’t say anything when she woke up one morning less than a month later and her dad wasn’t there. She just went out, silently got a job washing dishes at the local diner, dropped Amor off at daycare, dropped out of school, and assumed all of her dad’s responsibilities much more responsibly than he.

Four years later, Lemon was paying all the bills except for rent, taking Amor to school in the mornings and working at the diner until he got home. She got the mail every day so she would be the only one to find the checks from her dad. She didn’t want Amor to get his hopes up, ever. She hated her dad for not listening to her when she tried to tell him about Beth. She hated him for letting it go on for four years when all it took was once with Amor to kick Beth out. She didn’t want to instill hatred in Amor, but she didn’t want to instill hope, either. She took care of him the best she could.

The night Amor found the mail from Henry, he sat by Lemon’s bed in the rocking chair like he did every night and read her a story about a princess that slayed dragons. He wore a cape and acted out different parts of the book. When he finished the story he kissed both of her cheeks like he always did, turned on the nightlight like he always did and said, “Goodnight, Lemondrop, I love you,” like he always did.

Tonight, Lemon smiled and said, “I love you too.”

[christinaepilzauthor-blog]

The Promise and the Curse of Dynasty: A Stuart Tragedy

by Linda Root The Tragic Deaths of the Sons of King James Charles Stuart:

James I and VI

Seventeenth Century Britain was a society in which children were often regarded as commodities. In agrarian societies, numbers were important, especially if the counted heads were male.  Daughters were tolerable as long as there were not too many to be marketable. With the decline of female monasticism in England, the alternative of a nunnery was no longer viable. Even the highest levels of society suffered failed dynastic plans, not the least of which involved the Royal House of Stuart, even before James Charles Stuart VI, King of Scotland, ascended the English Throne as James I in 1603.

He was shortly followed from Scotland by the entourage of his Danish consort, Anne of Denmark, who traveled with their firstborn son and heir, Prince Henry Frederick, who was the image of everything a royal heir should  be.  

On instructions from the king's advisers, the second son was left in Fife. Ostensibly, he was too frail to travel. Or, perhaps his parents considered him an embarrassment likely to detract from the joy brought by the first Royal Family to grace England since the reign of Henry VIII. 

THE FIRST STUART PRINCE OF WALES

And thus, when the Stuart royals arrived in London, they brought with them the son and heir whom many were less impressed by the parents than their child, who was considered to be the Hope of England.

Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales

Meanwhile,  the not-yet-three-year-old Prince Charles, who did not walk, and when he spoke, stuttered, was left behind in a cloistered environment in Dunfermline in the household of the Scottish Chancellor, Catholic Alexander Seton. Finally Lord Robert Carey was sent to England to check on rumors of some improvement, and Seton was ordered to deliver Charles to London, where he was given the title Duke of York.  But even then, his liabilities prompted James to suggested his legs be encased in iron boots until Carey's wife, the redoubtable Dame Robert, tucked Baby Charlie under her wing and cajoled and bullied him into recovery.

Perhaps the earliest portrait of the future Charles I

Nine years later, on November 6, 1612, they saw the promise dashed when Henry Frederick, Price of Wales, died of what most likely was typhoid. When one considers its ultimate outcome, Henry Frederick's death may  be the most significant event in  17th Century English history. Upon his death, the Venetian Ambassador to England remarked: 'His authority was great... His designs were vast; his temper was grave, severe, reserved, brief in speech. All the hopes of these kingdoms were built on his high qualities." A partial list of the attributes for which the prince was known and which his younger brother Charles lacked is portentous: 1. Prince Henry Frederick was a staunch protestant, but possessed a profound understanding of the theological issues of the day. His personal religious beliefs smacked of Puritanism, but his intellect was cosmopolitan. 2. His behavior and writings suggest he was not a Divine Right monarchist. 3. His thinking was mature beyond his years. 4. He was a sportsman and an athlete, and cultivated such an image of himself in art. 5. He enjoyed a personal correspondence with European royals not limited to members of his mother's Danish Royal Family, and including among others, Henri IV, King of France. 6. He was admired and respected by leaders in the Stuart government such as the powerful Earl of Salisbury, Lord Robert Cecil, some of whom had misgivings concern Scots in general and King James in particular. 7. He was no one's puppet, and there is evidence his father was afraid of him. 8. Physically, he was handsome and robust until illness struck him down, with the stature of his grandfather Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley and his grandmother Marie Stuart, Queen of Scots, both grandchildren of  Henry VII, and both near or over six-feet in height.

THE TRAGEDY OF THE SECOND SON:  At the time of his brother's death, the future Charles I had overcome most outward manifestations of his childhood.  He had struggled to overcome his lameness and learned to control his stutter. But he never filled the image of his brother. By the time he succeeded his father  he favored a high Episcopal form of worship and was suspected to be a closet Catholic.  He married a Catholic French princess, Henrietta Maria,  three months after his ascension in 1625. He was a Divine Right monarch who made a habit of dismissing Parliament when it disagreed with him before he permanently disbanded it in 1629. Scores of historians who document his fall differ widely as to what kind of man he was and whether he was an anachronism or a charlatan, a victim of his unfortunate childhood or simply blind to change. Whatever the diagnosis of the short-comings on Charles I, he was ill-equipped to rule a country on the brink of a Civil War unlikely to have happened had his brother lived. If he was successful at anything, it was as a family man. He begin his public life in England in an unpopular relationship with the Duke of Buckingham, and his marriage to a Catholic French princess placed him at odds with his father. His estrangement of his parliament clinched it. There are volumes written dealing with his fall. One could advance an argument that his attitude toward kingship killed him. He was executed outside the Banqueting House at Whitehall on January 30, 1649.  In any case, his execution created a hiatus in Stuart Rule.

A contrary argument can be advanced claiming the dynasty did not suffered from his death, since two of his son's survived to ascend the throne. However, the Stuart restoration can be chalked up to Dumb Luck rather than Divine Intervention. The military strategist and orthodox Puritan who managed England after the King's execution, Protector Oliver Cromwell, suffered a similar curse in leaving an ill-equipped and disinterested son  Richard Cromwell, to succeed him. The documents of government in effect at the time of Oliver Cromwell's death specified he should be the one to name his successor. With that in mind, he had been governing his son for years, with mixed results and much reservation as to his ability to lead the people and control the army.  His doubts were well founded and in 1659, with little hesitation on Richard Cromwell's part, he signed articles of Abdication on terms requiring the government to pay his debts and award him a pension. He received neither. But when the monarchy was restored the following year, he remained unmolested and resumed his former quiet life as a country gentleman. At that point, the English were tired of Puritan austerity and enthusiastically invited the Bishops back and the Stuart's home. There is no question the dynastic ills that cursed the Stuarts was with them both when they returned.

THE INGLORIOUS RESTORATION AND GLORIOUS REVOLUTION: CHARLES II AND JAMES II:

Without dwelling on the period of English history known as the Interregnum, a topic worthy of volumes, not a paragraph in a post, suffice it to say that England did not fare well without a sovereign. Scottish Parliament proclaimed the dead king's eldest surviving son Charles as Charles II in 1651. The English, in the hands of the Puritans, did no such thing. Following the defeat of Charles's Royalist forces by Cromwell's Model Army, Charles fled Britain.  He remained in exile in Europe for nine years until Oliver Cromwell's death resulted in a power vacuum and he was invited back to come home and take his crown.   He returned to London on his birthday in 1660 to rule as The Merry Monarch, an intensely popular king during his early reign, especially with the ladies.  Although known to have sired numerous bastards, some from one-night stands with nameless whores, he sired none to his unpopular wife, the Portuguese princess Catherine of Braganza. And thus, the Stuarts faced the next dynastic crisis.  When Charles II died without legitimate issue at Whitehall Palace in February 1685, having asked those who attended him on his deathbed to deal generously with his mistresses, the crown passed to his younger brother James, who was proclaimed James VII of Scotland first, and soon thereafter, as James II of England, and, who by comparison, was no fun at all. When Charles II died, James, Duke of York became King James II, for lack of a viable, Protestant alternative.  James II and VII was the last Catholic King to rule the British kingdoms.  The Scots, who knew him from his time spent there, were known to refer to him as Dismal Jimmie.  He was not a bright man, nor was he pleasant, in some ways the most tragic of the surviving victims of the English Civil War.  Although he was hardly intuitive, he was possessed of an integrity which his brother lacked.  If he mastered anything, it was the balance sheet.  He ran his own life with great frugality.  He had inherited his executed father's obstinacy and stutter.  And worse, by the time of his ascension, he was no longer a closet Catholic. His first wife Anne Hyde had died leaving two daughters surviving of her brood of seven.

When Anne Hyde, left, Duchess of York died in 1671, Charles II still ruled England, with no legitimate offspring to take the throne. All his brother had were daughters, Mary and Anne. In one of his last acts to assure a Stuart succession,  the Merry Monarch set out to find a proper protestant second wife for his younger brother, who would have none of it. James would do his own shopping, thank you very much! His qualifications for a wife were two: she must be Catholic, and  she must be beautiful. In the adolescent Princess Mary of Modena, above right, he found both. Unfortunately there had been no  stipulation requiring her to be fruitful.

On the day James, then Duke of York, brought his fifteen-year-old consort to meet his daughters, he introduced her as their new play-fellow. While the young bride was repulsed by her much older and unattractive husband at first, she came to cherish him.  The marriage lasted longer than James II's brief occupation of the British throne.

A early portrait of William and Mary

He was not a bright man, nor was he pleasant.  Although he was hardly intuitive, he was possessed of an integrity which his brother lacked.  On a personal note, if he mastered anything, it was the balance sheet. He ran his own household with considerable frugality and his life with little wit. Unlike his brother's union with Catherine of Braganza who was blamed for Charles II's suspected deathbed conversion, it was James, then Duke of York, who had instigated his first wife's Anne Hyde's conversion to the Catholic faith. By the time of his ascension, his own Catholicism was an ill-kept secret. What was worse, his youthful second wife was rumored to be the daughter of the Pope. When his bride landed in England, effigies of the pope were torched along their parade route. Just when it appeared as if the British monarchy could be in no greater jeopardy, it became obvious his  consort was barren, and his son-in-law William was ready to take up arms against him. CURSED OR BLESSED? The events that brought an end to Stuart Rule through the male line is filled with intrigue and conspiracies far beyond the limits of this post. By 1689, events in England tone on a tone echoed in the New World colonies in 1776.  The king had broken his covenant with his people. Having done so, he fled to France and thus, was deemed to have abdicated. Those who governed in his absence fashioned laws placing limitations on the monarchy, and with that detail out of the way, they invited the King's Dutch son-in-law William and his daughter Mary to come to England to claim their crowns. The rulership passed to William and Mary.  There is a legend that on his flight from England, James II dropped the Great Seal of England in the Thames. It is also reported that after his arrival in France, the wise said, 'When you listen to him, you understand why he is here.'

Yet, his forced abdication does not end the story nor give credibility to the curse, but the place of the position of the  Stuart Dynasty in the English monarchy is no longer as direct as it was after the male line failed. James II's daughter Anne succeeded when  her sister Queen Mary's spouse and co-ruler died. In 1714, Queen Anne died childless. Debates range as to exactly when the Stuart Dynasty ended, but the Act of Settlement of 1701, settling the succession on the House of Hanover upon Anne's death is as good a date as any, or if one is a die-hard romantic, upon the death of the last Stuart Pretender, Bonnie Prince Charlie in 1788. In a certain sense, it never did.

It is noteworthy that Prince George and Princess Charlotte are the fourteenth great-grandchildren of Marie Stuart, Queen of Scots. And thus, while dynasty eludes the Stuarts after 1701, the bloodline extends forward to the present day, and back through Marie Stuart's paternal grandmother Mary Tudor to Owen Tudor's bloodline, and through her Stuart ancestors, as far back as The Bruce.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Notes:  Photos are in the public domain.  Art is PD -Art, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons, via Creative Commons and GNU.  Credit and accolades go to John Macleod's highly entertaining history, DYNASTY The Stuarts 1560-1807, St Martin's Press, 1999, to The Scotsman, The Guardian, and Wikipedia. Linda Fetterly Root is a historical novelist living in the Morongo Basin area of the Southern California Hi-Desert, with numerous animals, both wild and tamed.  She is a member of the Marie Stuart Society, and of the Bars of the State of California and the United States Supreme Court.  She is a retired major crimes prosecutor who is is currently working on her eighth historical novel, this one set in 17th Century England in the aftermath of the  Gunpowder Treason.

   Hat Tip To: English Historical Fiction Authors