#i have a character type i fear i’m unwell

[sunbloomdew]

Love Confessions in the Baxter DLC

Because i am very unwell, thank you. Part 1/3

After over 70 hours of playing the Baxter DLC – and despairing over that one monochrome guy, you know who – I wanted to take a moment to talk about all the possible love confessions in Baxter's version of Step 4. I find them all lovely and each of them made me squeal and smile like crazy, and i just gotta express my appreciation for them somewhere.

In Step 4 there are three love confessions. Two of them can be initiated by the MC, and the third one will be proclaimed by Baxter, if the MC doesn’t confess first. I tried all of them a couple of times, and they are all very cute (although my personal favourite is the confession the morning after the wedding)!

Before we begin i want to warn y’all that i wasn’t sure about the approach i wanted to take when talking about these moments, and as a result this post might not be a "put together careful game analysis" thingy. It's mostly just my ramblings and feelings that hopefully are a-okay to read haha. Without further delay, let’s begin!

Spoilers for specific moments in Baxter's version of Step 4!

All of the confessions take place after the wedding ceremony, so if you hadn't gotten there and don't wanna spoil those great moments for yourself i don't recommend reading further. I will go quite in depth about each option.

In chronological order, the first feelings declaration is the confession immediately after the wedding has ended.

Or as i've been referring to it in my head, The Wedding Confession!

Everybody is busy cleaning up, and MC hasn’t had a chance to have a one-on-one moment with Baxter since they split off in the morning. Naturally, they want to talk with him after the event is over. There is this underlying fear, that Baxter will leave again and they can't let that happen.

The two talk and Baxter apologises for his actions towards MC, five years ago in Sunset Bird and now, after they met again. I need to add that this apology is very well written and it definitively pulled on my heartstrings. Here the player can choose to confess on their own, accept his friendship hoping for a different type of relationship later on or just become friends.

Since i’m yet to play Baxter’s version of Step 4 with platonic feelings, i don’t know if this option appears if you have him at Fond. If anyone of you has done it, i would love to hear what it looks like! For example, does the player get to confess either way, in case they changed their mind (just how here you can choose to be friends)?

Moving further, if we choose to confess right away we get to pick how we want to do that - with words or by kissing him. Each choice will be preceded with an internal monologue from MC about their and Baxter’s relationship and what he means to them. I really like the way it's written. They go through all of the stages they've been around each other. If you met him at the Cypress in Step 2 Soiree Moment they mention how he was a boy in their memories, becoming real when they meet again by chance during summer of 2016. How he made this summer into everything and more and how he left. The years apart and finally the summer they reunited. I can't explain my feelings well, but i find this monologue very sweet but also full of longing - it makes me smile and it makes my heart ache at the same time.

Depending on when the MC confesses, Baxter has a different reaction to their silence. Since now he is waiting for them to accept him into their life again, he gets nervous the longer MC is lost in their thoughts, which is reflected in the expressions of his character model. It’s described as cracks of anxiety appearing on his face and him slipping back into his professional pleasantness. He chose to be vulnerable, and how MC replies will affect him.

After the character’s musings end the player gets one last chance to reaffirm the decision to confess.

Personally, I really like that we have the option to do so. Not only is it useful in case the player suddenly changed their mind, but also helps create the response you want from your MC.

If you back out then you no longer can confess in that moment. The story progresses the same as in the case of choosing not to confess. You can confess later in the game, or not confess at all and have Baxter do that.

If you pick the option to check if he means it, Baxter will reassure MC about wanting to stay by their side. It’s really adorable - especially since in response to MC he says “I do” (ya know, the famous wedding catchphrase) which he immediately follows up with: “You’ll have to excuse me for using that answer at someone else’s wedding, but I am entirely serious.” What a dork. After picking this option only two of the three are left - you can go further or back out.

And finally, you can confess. MC makes note of how now that the wedding was over, there would be no complications for the newlyweds (although they thought Miranda proposing to Terry at their wedding would be a great idea, so they really wouldn't mind lol). They think that since Baxter asked them out first, five years ago, it’s only fair that they do it now. It's one line, but for some reason i like this sentiment a lot. Like hell yeah, go MC! Ask him out now, make him speechless!

When it comes to spoken confessions, there is an abundance of choices to pick from. But my absolute favourite option is to echo Baxter’s own words from Step 3 Sightseeing Moment back at him: "Could I consider all the time we've spent together a date?". Chef’s kiss, it’s all coming together like a beautiful piece of tapestry. Simply iconic of them.

Confessing with a gesture has less options to choose from, but all are equally cute! If you choose to confess in this way, MC will have a short revelation about how different kissing Baxter now feels to kissing him five years ago. Baxter reacts a bit differently to this type of confession, since MC enters his personal space. My favourite is confessing by kissing Baxter on the forehead. It's absolutely precious.

The way Baxter reacts to MC confessing to him is… very interesting to say the least. He was ready to be friends them again or accept their rejection (there is no option like that in the game, but realistically, you just know he would prep himself up for this possibility) but he was not ready for a love confession. Baxter gives MC a moment to move past this and pretend that nothing happened, but it’s not going to work. I find that a curious thing to do. Baxter isn't hoping that MC doesn't have feelings for him and he himself does for them, but there is still that feeling of insecurity in him, that prevents him from accepting the confession right away.

We have the option to have MC sweep Baxter into a dance, or keep talking without that. I love the former choice and i always pick it for my character haha. It’s especially cute how Baxter stumbles and is so out of his depth. Both because of the unexpected movement and the sudden confession.

You can pick an option to tell him, that MC wanted to be with him even five years ago. His reaction to it is just. He is stunned and he doesn't believe it. But he knows MC isn't lying as well. I can feel the conflicted emotions he must have been experiencing upon hearing that just in one line of dialogue. And i think that's pretty powerful writing.

But then he fires back. He is full of disbelief and he doesn’t understand what could he have possibly done to deserve MC's affections. He doesn’t want to call MC a liar but he can’t accept that outcome either. Baxter’s old ways of dealing with relationships are resurfacing, because he can’t believe that he has the right to form such a deep connection with someone. It’s pretty heartbreaking to witness.

It's... so sad. "What did i do to make you like me?" he asks, because there must be something, because simply being himself is not enough, when Baxter inherently believes that he doesn't contribute anything. And if he doesn't contribute anything to somebody's life, he has no place in it.

MC decides to change tactics. Instead of trying to make Baxter accept their feelings, they ask what they mean to him. Whether they end up together is secondary - their goal is to help him overcome his mindset. I find that a really powerful act of love - helping the person you care about understand that they deserve to be loved without extravagant outings and carefully constructed barriers.

I really love Baxter’s response in this confession because it is very true to his character arc. His hesitance, how he withdraws and tries to appear unaffected. He reciprocates MC’s feelings, but he is too ashamed of himself and afraid. His view on himself makes him think that he can't be in a relationship with someone or friends with them, and that is something i find deeply sad. Still, he answers MC’s questions, with a few prefaces. He cites his inability to do things in the morning, less financial income and his past relationship management as reasons for why MC wouldn’t want to be with him. It’s him giving MC the chance to resign, to take back the love confession while they can. It reminds me of declining a meeting with your friends, because you believe that they will have more fun without you. It's self-preservation of your own feelings and diminishment of your impact on others, which comes from some form of dissatisfaction with the way we are.

But MC doesn't take their feelings back. They assure him that they want to be with him.

And once that is done, they ask him:

(I usually can comment on writing/art, but when i can't that's how you know it's the shit. i sat with my mouth open and my hands flapping around just cause this confession got me that excited <3)

This is the dialogue you get when you have Baxter on Crush. If you pick Love, instead of "I want to be with you" he will say "I'm in love with you".

Just like that, he accepts. I was totally shocked when that happened, but well, it does make sense. It was never a question, and Baxter admits so himself. He never stopped wanting to be with MC. He further expresses that he wasn't happy pushing them away five years ago and when they met again. It's quite sad to hear him admit that he didn't think staying together (in more than a romantic way) was an option until moments ago. But he got there ultimately and that's worth celebrating. Growth isn't linear, and sometimes we fall back to our old habits.

I really adore how openly Baxter expresses his affection for the MC, in the confession and later. Compared to Step 3 it feels more mature (no shit, sherlock) but also self-assured. Because he is finally starting to believe, that this - a relationship with a person who really knows him and chooses to stay - is something he can have.

These two lines of dialogue? Murdered me in my sleep with love and care. Sir, how dare you do that to me.

After that the two sillies finish their dance. Their story has a happy ending, they have been reunited. I adore how warm and happy this situation feels, and the descriptions make it feel so light and cheerful, like the moment with MC failing to catch their breath because they are laughing gleefully or Baxter holding them in a gentle embrace.

I really like this confession. Like i said before, it’s very true to Baxter’s character, and it also shows, that despite having good intentions and doing everything you can to change, people can still slip back into their old habits. But there will be people around you that believe you can learn and do better, and will stay with you and help you through it.

I also adore the overall silliness (after the angst is over, but i do love my fair share of angst as well) and the emotional beats. The characters banter, joke around.

And express how much they care about each other.

Also the fact that Miranda, Terry and Cove just gawked at the pair while they were having this huge emotional event is just hilarious. They are very nosy friends and i love them for that lol. Of course, Baxter is completely unaffected. GB Patch knew that if they made this man blush more than he already does in the game, they would actually kill us.

I'm not kidding, i die every time he blushes and get revived when he snorts. That's just the circle of life.

So yeah, that was one out of the three confessions! It's amazing and i hope i was able to convey what i love about it! Prior to playing the Baxter DLC i had around 50 hours on Steam, and after i got it It turned into 120 hours so... Yeah, Baxter Ward.

I'm splitting my confession ramblings into three posts for convenience. Parts 2 and 3 will be finished soon... Hopefully. Once they are i will place links to all the parts in each post (if i learn how to,,,,). Also wow, this post took me way too long to write, holy shit.

Peace out <3

Part 2!

[house-of-slayterr]

Random OCD Headcannons:

An: cause I’m still in the process of getting diagnosed and I relate to these characters heavily

Mary Kathrine Blackwood:

I’m like 95% sure this is on purpose and intended to be cannon. Her obsessions and compulsions are so obvious in both movie and book it’s hard to ignore them. And she gets massively distressed when she can’t complete one of her “rituals” or something is in her space that shouldn’t be. She speaks in her racing thoughts and ruminates almost constantly.

The Mad Hatter: more specifically Jarvis Tetch

I think there’s a lot going on with this character but he does have some quite odd compulsions. And he certainly has a control problem. I think there’s a lot of darkness he tries to hide and controlling that darkness inside of him is one of his obsessions. I see it in a lot of the version of him but Jervis is the most egregious example. His obsession with Alice and the Tetch virus cause him to do things without thinking often.

Jonathan Crane:

It’s not uncommon for mental health professionals, especially in this universe to be mentally unwell themselves. Crane thinks he hides it well but it obvious to Harley and Batman both that this man has his obsessions. He obsesses over Batman, people watching, fear… specially making people feel his fear. The fear his compulsion tried to drive him to get rid of in himself. Compulsion that drive each of his crazy schemes and attacks. Jonathan would be nothing without the Scarecrow, just a sad broken man locked up in Arkham himself.

Batman & Damian Al Ghul:

Batman has morality OCD, he’s obsessed with appearing morally superior at all times. Going as far to ruin his reputation as Bruce to make Batman seem better in comparison. He cares about all his villains but he has the most unhealthy obsession with joker. Bruce feels like he’s better as Batman, making him fear and avoid just being Bruce Wayne, or ever confronting who that man truly would be.

Not to mention he may have a small obsession with saving children like he wished someone had saved him, he refuses to have a repeat of his childhood. Man is running a damn mini orphanage in his house. Poor Alfred has so much work cut out for him.

Damian got hit with the genetics stick hard. From both sides, he had no way of escaping this in all honesty. He struggles with his morality to, it just comes across as more egotistical then his father. He’s obsessed with being good and being different from the bad guys. He judged daily based on how good he is to family, how good his is as a hero, the type of pet owner and student his is. If he didn’t give into his compulsion he would quickly go insane having no sense of direction without his golden rules he must fallow.

Hannibal Lecter:

Hannibal’s obsession first and foremost is cannibalism, then the human Psyche, then William. Hannibal feels small without his psychiatric knowledge, and he must be the most intellectual person in every conversation. He hates keeping his “equals” around as he sees no one to be truly equal to him but Agent Graham.

Without his cannibalism he would also be nothing. Hannibal has a black or white, kill or be killed mindset, it’s a survival tactic. Become the biggest predator, nobody can hurt you again. Even if he tried to consciously change and get “better” he’d eventually fall back on the compulsion of consuming human flesh to feel safe and superior.

And his obsession with Will, will drive him to do anything necessary even to the extreme, disregarding his own safety to go through with whatever compulsion his brain is telling him at the time. And of course he’s unmedicated through all of this because Hannibal genuinely believes he is controlling himself and in control of his own actions, he’s delusional ontop of it all. Will consumes a lot of his thoughts and time, to way beyond an unhealthy point.

The Riddler:

I think it’s fairly obvious he has an obsession with Riddles. He can’t even do something as simple as have breakfast alone without his riddles. But nobody knows why he’s afraid of the silence without them. But I also firmly believe he has the double Whammy of it being paired with Autism. Special interests can easily be turned into obsessions by the brain and become unhealthy.

An: I know a lot of these are comic hero/villains, leave me and my hyperfixations alone 😤 and if I’m forgetting anyone else you think should be on here let me know.

Tag: @mothmans-kingdom @oceansrose2002 @kados-of-chaos

[tigsbitties]

talk to me about karin

Okay I yapped WAYYY more than i meant to um

Sexuality Headcanon: Bisexual probably. I don’t have any super strong thoughts about this is just feel it in my heart. I’m not sure if that’s something she knows about herself or not though. no time for dat goku. I’ve seen the specific take before that Karin is bisexual with a preference for women but subconsciously likes daan bc he’s effeminate and that’s fun i think. i dont need some queer eyepatched foreigner getting my dick hard :/

Gender Headcanon: I’ve tossed around the idea of him having transmasc swag before— not in a “rude and assertive woman has to be a man” type way (something i see people swear up and down is both common and a problem? but i literally almost never see anyone headcanon canonically female characters as eggs so what’s the truth.) but more so as an extension of the “i know i’m right about this why doesn’t anyone believe me” theme going on with his character (tangent unrelated to this but i think a character who was constantly gaslit growing up who now can’t accept being told they’re wrong about anything bc of the fear of being put back in that situation to be super fucking interesting. Karin i love you.) like spending your childhood being talked down to and having things you know to be factually true about yourself and the world around you be repeatedly denied is a transgender experience i think. i’m not sure in mainline canon this is something he’d ever fully figure out or act upon but you never know.

I think in a modern day au he’d have a deeply cringey teenage truscum phase because stupid fucking Dalia doesn’t believe he’s trans bc “you were such a feminine little girl growing up 🥺 who’s making you do this why are you drifting away from me after all i do for you 🥺🥺” so he takes out that pent up rage on Daan (also a teenager on tumblr in this hypothetical scenario) who he sends anon hate to for triggering his “second hand dysphoria” and will not believe daan when he says he’s cis bc he “types in all lower case” and “has a carrd” . they meet in person years and years later for unrelated reasons with no memory of this. This is a lot of words for a headcanon I don’t even follow consistently I realize.

also jesus pocketcat can you fuck off? he’s wearing his dysphoria jacket.

A ship I have with said character: I am a huge daarin guy to like a HUMILIATING degree. i know that’s like. the most basic ass redditor wholesome chungus ship choice a person could have or whatever but it’s something that canonically has a lot going for it i think. You have to understand that first and foremost i live for banter— which they have in spades, their party talks are so fucking funny. I love having them both as party members when i play through termina— god especially the one about Daan’s soft hands? Why do you know they’re soft? did you feel them? are you susssing this out by just looking? i don’t know which is worse. jesus christ.

but besides that i think this little bit encapsulates a lot about what i find interesting about their dynamic. Karin’s insistence that Daan, because he is visibly wealthy, must be prissy and fragile to over compensate for insecurity at coming from a well off family— completely unaware of the fact Daan has spent large chunks of his childhood fending for himself in the woods. Daan’s complete disinterest i’m giving a serious response because this is such a bizarre thing to get caught up in. “just making small talk” you’re unwell.

The two of them def go beyond “characters i ship for fun”. i do think they’re two halves a whole in that you need one to fully understand the character of the other— like Karin is someone born into aristocracy who has rejected it both because of the ways it’s hurt her (created a scenario in which a malicious adult had unfiltered access to her bc her parents were too busy to care for her making paying someone else to do it more convenient) and more broadly the way it hurts those at the bottom of the class system (which is most people) and how Daan is someone born and horrifically abused at the bottom of that system who managed to weasel his way up the ladder and gain the necessary tools and education to survive at the cost of making a spectacle of, and by extension reliving, that abuse.

Likewise i think the two of them have more aligned goals than they realize. At the end of the day i think both them genuinely really do want to help people— regardless of what subconscious hang ups or insecurities are part of that want. For as stand offish as she is and her tendency to antagonize those who probably don’t deserve it, Karin is deeply passionate about the welling being of others and will do anything she thinks is necessary for a greater good— even if it may come across as exploitative or insensitive. Like there is definitely 100% an element of ego to it— the idea of “if i help others then that makes me a good person™️ and i should be praised for being a good person™️” is totally there— but it’s not all there is to it you know?

Likewise Daan being a doctor coexists as both a testament to his own lack of agency in his life and how his body can be used and discarded how anyone else sees fit if it’s for a greater good and as something he does because he cares about other people and wants to put good into the world. Like even if he comes to the conclusion that the people of prehevil are too far gone to be helped in a way that matters, he still makes the effort to figure out if something can be done about it. And i do think it’s a testament to his character that he mentions his primary clients he sees are prostitutes— people who are made to feel ashamed and dirty for their occupation, something he can empathize with and would want to help without judgement. I like the argument Daan and Karin have in the slums about why these people are sick and what they should be doing about it, because at the end of the day no matter how badly their personalities may clash they want the same thing. Alright buddy you got two options here. you can either have someone help you to affirm their ego or as a form of self harm. those are your choices. choose wisely.

I also really like that like. Karin’s an atheist in the actual sense of that word where she doesn’t believe in gods or magic in a world where that stuff is very tangibly real and Daan is an atheist in the way characters in christian movies are atheists where they do believe in god they just have personal beef with him. do you understand. i like this party talk a lot

In general i think they strike such a good balance with their clashing personalities of having very real issues with each other that are interesting to explore while also having banter that is genuinely really fun to read in a game so often as unpleasant as termina. I’ve seen people complain about people watering down Karin’s “genuine hatred for daan” for the sake of fluffy ship content— and i can see that broadly from the angle of “art and fics about on these two tend to focus on them arguing in a light hearted cutesy without exploring why they clash in the first place” but also like? idk i think “genuine hatred” is a bit strong for what in the game itself largely leads to comic banter. I think there can be emotional complexity intertwined with lighthearted scenarios. I don’t think anyone’s light hearted daarin post canon is hurting anyone or necessarily means they “didn’t understand” the source material.

In general the appeal to me from a romantic standpoint comes in the form of seeing how these characters who have already established strong feelings towards each other in an incredibly short amount of time could potentially develop if given the chance to. And i don’t even think i see them ever “dating” per say? I think their relationships with the concept of romance in a traditional sense would be very complicated and not something easily applied to each other— but i think in a post canon scenario where they’re both still alive there’s plenty of opportunity for an emotional intensity to form there— one that’s not entirely negative or positive. I think like it or not they have the best chance at understanding each other, even if it takes work to get there. Also their soul types match. if you evennnn care.

TLDR: they’re this image to me

A BROTP I have with said character: I don’t think i’d have a strong opinion on it if it wasn’t for the sheer amount of cute art of them, but i’ve become super endeared to Karin and Abella. less “BROTP” and more “thing i ship just less than the thing i mentioned above” . not something i have incredibly strong opinions on currently but i’d love to listen to someone who does speak about it. OH OH ALSO the post about Daan, Karina, Abella, and O’saa being in a polycule? Literal Peak. that is like the perfect cast of characters we have reached scooby doo levels of perfect character group.

A NOTP I have with said character: Not a fan of her and Pav but not something i care about or think about that much.

A random headcanon: I can totally see her being the type of person who doesn’t like cats and thinks they’re obnoxious and asocial and yadda yadda until a stray sort of worms it’s way into her apartment and she can’t get rid of it and now she has a cat forever. Its so annoying and she hates it sooo bad (it is the most spoiled animal on the planet). I can also def see her needing to get glasses at some point— mostly bc i think it would look nice on her. adds an extra layer of “old man who wants to sit on his chair read his newspaper and smoke his pipe”ness to her. I also crucially think she has OCD but that is a topic way better suited for another day I HAVE YAPPED ENOUGH. OH OH and i know her jacket was probably given to her by one of her brothers which if true makes me wanna eat sand and die but it would also be really funny if the unspecified “he” who gifted it to her was like. a scorned ex lover. Daan and Karin being each others rebound is an idea that makes me laugh way harder than it should.

General Opinion over said character: Karin is definitely one of the fear and hunger characters of all time to me and it makes me really sad to see her get reduced to “bitchy delusional woman” bc of her, very understandable given the everything, paranoia and stubbornness. Her backstory especially fucks me up so bad i feel a little insane that i never see anyone talk about it? like jesus christ. I think she’s a character who is both deeply entertaining and has a lot of emotional depth that makes her really fun to poke at.

[captain-astors]

Kaneki 24 26 30, Hide 16 20 & Rio 15 and 18 for the ask game :DD (I am full of questions)

I have decided I like this ask game a lot, less time but I have to think about it a bit more deeply. Also I love these choices thank you so much these creatures are my DEARS.

KANEKI: 

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

This man tells absolutely no one anything ever and it causes A LOT OF PROBLEMS. But if we’re talking just harmless things he’s embarrassed about, Haise had an entire theory about where he came from and who he was, including things like who he could possibly be related to (read: imagining a healthy, loving family for himself that was just ambiguously out there.) In hindsight he thinks that was way too optimistic and probably just manifestations of memories of his friends. Also he broke a coffee pot once early on in Anteiku and refused to admit it out of fear, because Touka looked like she was going to actually murder the culprit.

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most? Difficult to answer as I'm not sure who "Kaneki" is supposed to be. When he didn't have to worry about any of this ghoul stuff? He said himself he was lonely and shelled in. Post Jason? Probably not. Haise? Technically not “him”. He’s pretty much a completely different character by the end of :re so that’s difficult to judge. I suppose… any time he’s just rambling about his favorite books with no regard for how passionate he sounds, to Rize, to Tsukiyama, to Hinami, and any other instance. It just seems very sweet and genuine.

30. The funniest scene they had? Also tricky because if I was laughing it was typically at how miserable he was (sorry) I guess the scene when Kaneki, constantly searching for "truths," straight up tells the guy offering to elaborate on it all "No thanks I'm just going to beat you up." Also the hug scenes with Akira are all near and dear to my heart but the first one was hysterical.

HIDE: 

16. A childhood headcanon.

The kind of kid to wear dinosaur/superhero hoodies every single day. His dads were completely fine with this because he looked adorable.

20. A weird headcanon.

He definitely wears those grippy socks. Just around the house. Not for any particular reason he just got them at a trampoline park or something and doesn’t want to slip on the kitchen floor. Also he can, has, and possibly will again lick someone’s salt lamp at a sleepover.

SHIKORAE/RIO: I’m answering this for pre and post Cochlea when I can because this is a chance I may only get once.

15. Worst storyline they had.

For Shikorae! Post-dragon Kakuja. The extremely traumatized and unwell ghoul who is perhaps one of the most harmed by their old society CONTINUES to be scorned by the new one, but it’s okay because he’s too unwell to be instantly adjusted into society! He’s basically an animal right?

Rio! The Touka crush, it really felt like pandering to the audience. Your main character doesn't have to be Kaneki the Sequel guys, I suppose it could be argued he was so undersocialized that he just was immediately infatuated with the first pretty girl he met but leaving the closest thing you have to a home as a result of the rejection of that feels... odd. Probably the intense attachment issues at work. It makes sense to some extent I just think there were better ways to justify his departure. It is funny to me that Touka had a crush on him too allegedly , so she definitely has a type.

18. How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)

Well, we kind of know given that he is a kid in Jail, but if we’re talking before that as well, like 6-10 years old,

SO shy and surprisingly weak for a ghoul kid. To put it simply, his brother wouldn’t bring him on hunts, and at that would hardly bring him outside out of fear, so he wasn’t getting nearly enough vitamin D or exercise. It didn’t help that due to his mutation, his RC pathways have always prioritized “must make more kagune” over maintaining the state of his body, because it basically works by treating his current Kagunes as if they weren’t there, and therefore his body thinks he is unarmed at all times, and by extent it thinks he needs to create a new one constantly.

His brother did his best to feed him enough to maintain both functions, but whereas most ghoul kids are durable enough to at least make a break for it before even adult ghouls can go for the kill, Rio probably could’ve been taken out with a quinque steel knife if the wielder managed to get past the swirling mess of Kagune.

He did crave companionship though, and when his brother trusted another ghoul enough to introduce them to him he was generally considered to be very sweet, if timid.

[bonnyskies]

deadly agenda ⇢ myg

min yoongi is a dangerous man. you’re a manipulative wife. together, you two are a deadly duo, and you both have your own agenda.

pairing — emperor!yoongi x wife!malereader ft. king-husband!taehyung

genres — angst, sexual themes, royalty!au, strangers-to-lovers!au

warnings — age-gap (reader is 20, yoongi is 28), swearing, degrading terms, mentions of death, feminization, descriptions of murder, sexual themes, infidelity, betrayal, slight voyeurism, yoongi is intimidating and reader is manipulative, basically they’re just plain evil

author’s note — i hate tumblr’s new update. i had more to write (not enough for a part two) but couldn’t because of the new 250 text box rule. but as for this story, this is probably the longest one i’ve written so far and the one i’m most proud of. anyway, hope you all enjoy and sorry for taking so long to upload this, took lots of planning and rewriting, plus i’ve been busy with school too.

word count — 7.4k

masterlist

Min Yoongi is a cautious, yet observant man.

Whoever steps foot in his palace, he makes sure to know everything about them. Who they are, they’re background, appearance, and how they approach him. Each and every thing can help him learn who he can trust, and who he cannot, who are his allies—and who are his enemies.

Yoongi stood by his palace’s entrance, accompanied with his guards and greeted his special guests, one by one as they walked up his home’s grand steps. He makes sure to take notes on each and every person’s facial expression, their appearance, chosen attire, and the certain way they walk up to him.

Anything could benefit him into knowing them. Their wealth and clan can be identified based on their specific appearance and choice of clothing. Their facial expressions help him learn what their true feelings and intentions are towards him that are hidden by their fake smiles and words. And lastly, the way they walk up to him can help him know the type of personality they have, whether that be obedient and innocent, or arrogant and untrustworthy.

The way he learns about his guests have never failed him. That was, until he met you.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he wasn’t astonished when his eyes laid on you for the first time. There were many things that left him utterly speechless when meeting you. For one, when his advisor told him that his guest would be bringing his wife, he was expecting a woman—not a man.

Another thing that left Yoongi speechless was your appearance, mostly your attire. You were dressed in feminine-like clothing, silk robes that were decorated with gold jewelry instead of fine material clothing with armor plating like what many men of royalty wear. And you also didn’t hold a blade like most men do too. Instead, you held a simple wooden decorative fan.

And lastly, your eyes.

Yoongi has a remarkable judge of character. Maybe not as good when it came to you, but still adequate. On the outside, your eyes were shining with gentleness and a kind greeting. But he could tell there was something else hidden behind them—something that left him intrigued by you.

You had an agenda—plans, and Yoongi was determined to find out what they are.

The welcoming feast was extremely dull.

Yoongi absorbed gallons of wine into his system, hoping that would help numb his mind and get through the rest of the evening without having to tear somebody’s head off from their body.

And apparently you thought the same as he did. Across the table, Yoongi watched as you fanned yourself out of boredom while everyone else were socializing with one another, an unamused facial expression shown on your face. Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle behind his glass when seeing one of the other wives say something to you and you flashed her a quick smile before dropping it back down into a straight line.

It seems his attention on you didn’t go unnotice because next thing he knew, your eyes were now on him. Yoongi was expecting hints of disgust or uncomfort from you, but instead he was met with sly smirk and a raised brow.

Yoongi watches intently as you leaned over and whispered into your husband’s ear. Your husband—Kim Taehyung then stood up from his seat and bowed his head, “Excuse me, your Majesty.”

Yoongi turned his head towards your husband, diverting his attention completely away from you.

“My wife is not feeling well at the moment, so with your permission, would it be alright if he can take his leave from the feast early?”

The entire dining hall fell silent, shocked expressions plastered on everyone’s faces at the table.

Nobody has ever dared to leave one of Min Yoongi’s feasts before. Who would want to, right? It’s considered a great honor for one self and their kingdom to be invited by the Emperor himself to attend one of his events.

Whispers began to spread amongst the guests.

“How shameless is Kim Taehyung’s wife?”

“Wanting to leave the Emperor’s feast early? Utterly shameless I tell you.”

“That Taehyung needs to discipline his wife.”

“Doesn’t he know how important his Majesty’s events are? And he wants to leave just because he isn’t feeling well? Unbelievable.”

“He needs to learn some manners—”

Anxiety swept across Taehyung’s face when hearing the gossips coming from the other royals, eyes wide and mouth gaped open with panic. “Forgive me, your Majesty, I never intended to—”

With just the clear of his throat, everybody fell silent once again and all eyes were now on him. Yoongi’s gaze would shift between you and your husband, curiosity filling his veins when noticing that there wasn’t any signs of illness presently visible on you. You weren’t trembling, your eyes weren’t red and skin wasn’t showing any signs of flushness. You looked fine.

That only caused more questions to form in Yoongi’s mind. Like, what do you exactly want, and what is your reason for being here? Because according to his advisor, you weren’t even part of the guest list until today. That only raised even more suspicions he had towards you.

And it’s not like he can just throw you out—actually, he can. It’s just that he doesn’t want to because now he’s curious, and he wants to see how things turn out.

“He can go,” Yoongi says a brief silence, immediately noticing the small smile creeping onto your lips. “But take him to see the physician and let him check him out,” and then it dropped.

“N-No, your Majesty,” you spoke up, lips parted. “You don’t have to do that—”

“You’re feeling unwell, right?” Yoongi then asks, smirking at the silence he got in reply. “Well, you should let my physician diagnose you then. Don’t worry though, you’re in great hands.”

One of his guards that stood by his side approached you and started to guide you to the physician’s office. And while you were leaving, Yoongi could see the glare coming from you and aimed right at him.

If you wanted to play games with him, he’ll play.

Wandering through the palace halls at night was something Yoongi usually does whenever he can’t sleep.

And apparently you had the same tendency too.

While mindlessly strolling through his palace’s hallways, Yoongi’s eyes suddenly landed on your approaching figure, the first thing catching his attention was your choice of clothing. You were dressed in golden inner robes, your sleep-wear, and the material was so thin and transparent that every feature about you was visible to him. The sight of your clear, smooth skin and every curve of your body and muscles made his mouth water. It was like you were purposely dressed like that to seduce him.

Another thing that caught his eye was the small, slightly torn grayish book that was in your grasp, which was where your complete attention was on because you still haven’t noticed his presence despite the two of you walking towards the other.

“Hello, your Highness,” you jumped out of fear, eyes wide and closing your book when your gaze landed on him. “May I ask why you are wandering around my palace this late at night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply answered, fingers tight around the cover the book, which only made Yoongi even more curious as to what you were exactly reading. “And it seems you are having the same problem as well, am I correct?”

Yoongi only hummed in reply, taking another small step towards you until you two now stood only inchest apart, him towering over you and staring down right at you. “Is there something wrong with your chambers? I can tell my servants to move you and your husband into a more comfortable place for you—”

“No no, your Majesty,” you were quick to interject. “Everything is perfect. It’s just that I’ve always had trouble sleeping at another royal’s residence, that’s all.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but find your reason funny, because he has always had trouble sleeping when there were other people staying in his palace.

A brief silence came between you two before Yoongi spoke up once again, “I’ll be taking a quick walk around my garden, you can accompany me if you like.” He didn’t wait for your reply before leaving, but when hearing the sound of your footsteps behind him right after, a smirk grew on his lips.

“You know, you never really introduced yourself when we first met,” Yoongi then brought up while the two of you made your way to the gardens.

“Forgive me, your Majesty,” you bowed your head apologetically before replying, “My name is ___, Kim ___.”

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Kim ___,” Yoongi reached down and took your hand into his, pressing a soft, yet tender kiss on the back of your palm, smirking at the evident blush forming on your cheeks. “And I’ve got to say, you are looking quite well for someone that claimed to be feeling sick not even three hours ago,” and that is when your smile dropped.

“Must’ve been my anxiety,” you were quick to reply back, your eyes never leaving his. “After all, I am staying at the Emperor’s palace for the first time.”

Yoongi was impressed honestly, he had to admit. For everything he had to say against you, you had something say right back at him. There isn’t a lot of people who have that type of skill to think of words—believeable words right on the spot. Anybody would believe what you were saying—too bad he isn’t just anybody.

“Must be...,” Yoongi just says, eyeing you slightly. His gaze then shifted onto the book in your hand. “What are you reading there?”

“Oh this,” you held the book up, “It’s called Flowers of the Region—a guide to every type of flower that is grown and can be found in both the South and the North. It’s my favorite book.”

“Well, that’s fortunate,” Yoongi points out, “you like flowers, and we so happen to be going to my garden. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Lily of the Valley,” you answer with a smile. “Have you heard of it?”

“I have,” Yoongi replied, his interest towards you growing even more. Lily of the Valley, despite the beautiful features of the white flower, it is proven to be quite deadly when digested. “They are only found on top of the Southern mountains—but lucky for you, I happen to grow them right here in my garden.”

Your smile grew even wider. “That’s great.”

The rest of the walk to the gardens was in silence with you trailing forward while Yoongi stood back. And with your eyes focused on the path in front of you, Yoongi couldn’t help but send glances at you every once in a while, his eyes burning into your back, admiring at the clear view your smooth skin through the thin, transparent material of your inner robes.

He surely needs to give whoever crafted your sleepwear a raise—and a big one too.

When the two of you finally got to the gardens, you were left instantly speechless at the sight of the many plots of different flowers, ranging from beautiful, vibrant ones that were quite common to dark, mysterious ones that you’ve never even seen before.

Yoongi couldn’t deny how adorable you looked though when seeing his garden for the first time, eyes wide, shining with admiration and your mouth gaped open.

“This is beautiful,” you gasped, leaning down and running your fingers delicately over some flowers.

“Thank you,” Yoongi stood beside you, “I make sure my gardeners take good care of this place.”

Silenced filled the atmosphere as Yoongi stood back and silently watched you admiring the many flowers. Normally he’d be annoyed for someone touching his property, but for some odd reason when it came to you he didn’t mind so much. Perhaps it’s because this might be the only way for him to get close to you and learn about your true intentions—or maybe he just really wants to fuck you.

Yoongi found himself once again staring at you, watching as you bent over to get a closer look at one of the flowers, giving him a perfect view of your ass and hips, both in which he wants to grab and caress with his large hands.

“So,” Yoongi spoke up after some silence, “how exactly did you become the new Lady Kim?”

Yoongi instantly noticed the way your body tensed from his question. “I was his Highness’s personal servant. When his wife suddenly passed away, he was a complete mess and I was the only one that stayed by his side through the entire mourning process. I was the one that comforted him whenever he was feeling down, I made sure he was taking care of himself and helped him with his royal duties.”

Yoongi then noticed your shoulder slumping. “After about a month or so, he started seeking me for a...different kind of comfort.” Sex. “Soon later he decided to make his new wife—the new Lady Kim.”

“You don’t seem so happy about the change in position,” Yoongi commented, “I’m sure this is much better than being a simple servant. You’re a royal now.”

“Oh, I am,” you quickly corrected him, “But being a man and having a feminine title can sometimes make things complicated.”

“Well then, don’t make them complicated.” Yoongi suggested, “You’re not a servant anymore, you’re a royal. They may not respect you now, but you have the power to make them do so.”

“Don’t worry, I know,” you told him sternly. “They’ll learn to respect me. Whether that be the hard way or the easy way—it’s their choice. So you better watch out, your Majesty, or something bad might happen to you,” you laughed softly.

Yoongi released a forceful chuckle, eyes briefly squinting at you suspiciously. It may have sound like a harmless joke, but to him, he could hear the small hints of truth behind them. “Oh trust me, I will. I wouldn’t want you as an enemy.”

“And you as well,” you replied, eyeing him back.

Silence came between you two again, Yoongi leaving you to inspect his garden in peace while he stood back and watched you. It wasn’t until an hour has passed you spoke up again, yawning, “we should head back to bed, your Majesty. We have that conference in the morning with the other royals and we need the energy.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi agreed, nodding and stepping aside so that you could walk ahead of him and back inside the place with him following right beside you. “Let me walk you back to your room.”

You didn’t say anything, only held your head low to hide the small grin on your face as the both of you made your back to the chambers. And as you two got closer to your destination, you both were froze at the sound of moaning.

Yoongi was confused at first as who it could be, but when turning to you and seeing the hardened expression on your face, he knew.

“O-Oh, Taehyung—f-faster, please!”

Yoongi was speechless. He knew many royals took on concubines while being married, but he didn’t know someone could so shameless as to bringing them to another person’s residence alongside their spouse. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t bother, your Majesty,” you spoke calmly, eyes hard and emotionless. “I’m use to it by now and it doesn’t really bother me anymore.”

“Really, it doesn’t?”

You shook your head. “At first it did, but after sleeping with my husband so many times I have learned that the only person he cares to satisfy is himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle. What kind of husband doesn’t have the desire to satisfy is own wife? Maybe he should take you to his chambers and show you exactly what you’re missing. “Well, I-I’m still sorry for you.”

You simply shrugged your shoulders, “it doesn’t matter, your Majesty. Have a good night.”

Yoongi watched as you then opened the door went inside the chamber, causing your husband and the woman to stop and look at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t mind me,” you said to them, not even bothering to glance at them, shocking Yoongi. “I’ll be on the balcony reading my book. Just let me when you two are done.”

Taehyung’s attention instantly went back to the woman that was straddling his lap when hearing your words, hands kneading her breasts and hips and started thrusting back up into her, causing moans to erupt from both of them. Yoongi didn’t why, but the sight of them made his blood boil.

Maybe he should go in there and fuck you in front of your husband? That’ll show him what he is missing out.

Yoongi continued to watch through the crack in the door as you walked past the couple and went onto the balcony. And once you were out of his sight, that’s when he finally got a clear view of the woman on your husband’s lap, and he instantly recognized her. She was one of the servants that accompanied you and Taehyung here. Yoongi distinctly remembered seeing her earlier today, serving you tea after you got back from seeing the physician.

Yoongi glared at the couple, scoffing at the sight. What did that Kim Taehyung see in that whore of a servant that you don’t have?

You are far more enticing than she is.

Taking one last glance at the shameless couple, Yoongi retreated back to his chambers. And while he did so, his mind suddenly went back to you. How did someone so...unique end up with a man like Kim Taehyung? He’s a weak person, a shame to royal blood. You deserve to be with someone with real power, someone who would never leave you unsatisfied, both physically and emotionally. Someone like me.

Yoongi could feel himself harden just from the thought of you.

Damn you for having this type of power over me, his mind cursed. Yoongi has slept with countless of other royals before, both men and women, and he has never encountered someone like you.

You are truly something else.

“Damn,” Yoongi mumbled out to nobody in particular, palming himself through his robes. “How the hell am I going to get rid of this?”

And right on queue, a young servant boy just happened to be walking right by Yoongi when the question ran through his head.

“Stop,” was all he said, making the servant boy freeze in his place.

“Y-Yes, your Majesty?”

Yoongi took slow, intimidating steps towards him until he was towering over him, using his hands to cup his chin and forcing the servant boy to meet his eyes. “How would you feel having the honor of spending the night with your Emperor?”

The servant boy couldn’t stop the small smile from forcing on his face. “I-I would love that, your Majesty.”

That was Yoongi needed to hear before leaning down capturing the servant’s boys lips with his, hands moving to his thighs and hoisting him up in his arms and carrying him into his chambers, lips never separating.

“You’re a eager one, are you?” Yoongi chuckled against the servant boy’s mouth, moving his lips down his neck and forcing a whimpering moan from him.

“I-It’s my duty to serve y-you, your Majesty.”

That brought a smile on Yoongi’s lips.

Yoongi couldn’t find you anywhere the next day.

He couldn’t find at you breakfast, he couldn’t find you during the conference with the other royals and their wives, and he couldn’t find you at lunch. Now as dinner was approaching, there still wasn’t any sign of you anywhere.

But he had no problem finding your husband. Wherever he saw Taehyung, he saw that whore of a servant trailing behind him like a pet—but you no where to be seen.

Yoongi thought about approaching him to ask about your whereabouts, but he couldn’t help but think of the consequences that would happen afterwards. But that still didn’t stop him from sending glares at the younger royal and the servant every now and then, which didn’t go unnotice by either of them.

“Is there something wrong, your Majesty,” Taehyung finally asks, breaking the tensed silence between the two of them. “You’ve been staring at me all day today and haven’t said a single word.”

“Oh nothing,” Yoongi simply replies, eyes still trained on him while twirling his glass of wine. “Just wondering where your wife is at right now, since everyone else is here. Is he still not feeling well from last night?”

For a very very brief moment, Yoongi could see panic glinting in his eyes before answering, “o-oh yes, your Majesty, he told me that he’s still feeling unwell so I allowed him stay back in the room.”

Liar, was Yoongi’s first thought, eyes glaring even more at the long, black-haired royal.

Everyone at the table could feel the tension between their Emperor and the young royal, and still no one chose to speak up about it.

Yoongi had a reputation. He is the first ever Emperor to achieve the throne through combat rather than family bloodline—and he is also the youngest ruler to ever be placed higher than a simple king. But that weren’t the only things he was known for. He was also generally known for being intelligent and quite reserved, and cruel if absolutely necessary, and also able to hold a grudge. It may sound simple, but everybody knew that if their Emperor had something against you, your days were limited.

So that’s why nobody chose to speak up when seeing the menancing glares their Emperor were sending at the youngest and only surviving Kim. Because they knew if they intervened, they’d only anger him and get on his list, and that’s the exact opposite of what they want to do.

“Your Majesty,” his advisor suddenly whispered right beside him. “I think it would be a good idea to continue the meeting. Some of your guests has some things to say about the...improvements you’re doing to the North.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw, eyes scanning over Taehyung once more before turning his attention to the other royals. “Sure,” he then says, “which one of you want to speak first?”

Not even a second later, Park Jimin, ruler of the Park Kingdom stood up from his seat and spoke. “Your Majesty, my council and I believe that the border that you have placed around my region is completely unnecessary.”

“How so?” Yoongi asks, leaning back against his chair with an amused look on his face. He had to admit that he was impressed that the blonde man was the first to speak up. He may not be the youngest royal out of everyone, but he certainly is the one with the least experience when it came politics.

“For starters your border cuts right through my kingdom’s river, slicing our water supply in half,” he starts, voice slightly raising. “And the amount of wood you required for the construction of the wall resulted in about ninety percent of the forests in my region to be completely cut down, forcing most of my workers into unemployment.”

Yoongi continued to listen closely with his hands laced together and resting on top of his chest, rocking back and forth in his chair with an intent glint in his eyes.

“I also find it completely unfair how your border only crosses over my kingdom but no one else’s.” Jimin continued to rant, jamming his finger repeatedly angerly against the table while keeping his eye contact with him. “I think it’s not for protection like you have claimed many of times, but as a prison, to keep my people in check. You’re nothing but a—”

Yoongi slammed his hand heavily onto the table, instantly silencing the young royal and causing everyone to gulp nervously. He may at times find it amusing when someone fights back, but he will never allow anyone to talk down against him, not in his own residence.

“You think I built that wall as a prison?” Yoongi asks, chuckling when the blonde man didn’t reply. “Are you forgetting what happened before I built that wall? Spies from the South would come right into our territories and would gather information on us, murder our people in their sleep—that’s how your parents died, am I correct? Some spy that sneaked into their palace assassinated them when they were asleep? It would such a shame if the same thing happens to you—after I take down the wall, of course.”

Yoongi smirked when noticing the seeing Jimin’s jaw clenching and hands angrily balling into fists. “So don’t you ever accuse me again? Because everything I do is for the best of my people, not just yours. The wall is only bordering your land because your land is the only one that connects with the South.”

Jimin’s head hung low, hands unclenching and lips dropping into the frown.

“So before you come at me, you should make sure that you have all the information, do you understand me?” Jimin nodded and sat down.

Everybody tensed when Yoongi then stood up from his seat and slowly, intimidatingly made his way to Jimin’s chair. And when placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle when feeling him jump slightly underneath his touch. “Normally I’d kill anyone who spoke to me that way,” leaning down, he whispered into Jimin’s ear, sending chills along his pale skin, “but I’ll let it slide for once since you’re new to this whole thing.”

“T-Thank you, your Majesty.”

With one last pat on the shaking man’s shoulder, Yoongi pulled away, and he was standing straight again, his eyes suddenly fell on your figure who stood near the entrance of the conference hall. But you weren’t alone, no, three servants that he couldn’t recognize was with you. The four of you seemed to be in a deep conversation, and with everybody focused on him, nobody noticed you.

Yoongi’s eyes slightly squinted out of suspicion when seeing you then bow your head at the three servants, a smile on your face before each of you went your separate ways.

Yoongi is definitely going to look into that.

“Now,” returning his attention back to his guests, Yoongi leaned himself against the table, keeping close to the blonde man that was still trembling. “Does anyone else have anything to say to me?”

“N-No no, your Majesty,” Jung Hoseok, another royal spoke up, gulping anxiously as he tightened his hand around his wife’s who sat beside him. “We have no complaints whatsoever, you’re doing an amazing job—the perfect ruler.”

Kiss ass, Yoongi rolled his eyes, pushing himself away from the table. He then shifted his attention towards your husband and asks, “what about you, your Highness? Anything to say?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, your Majesty.”

“What a bunch spineless people,” Yoongi’s mind scoffed, and he couldn’t agree more.

His advisor then rose from his chair and spoke up, “okay everyone, thank you all for attending his Majesty’s annual end of conference feast this year. You may all now return to your rooms and get some rest before heading back to your own residences in the morning.”

Yoongi stayed back and bid farewell to everyone, and once everyone was gone he left the conference hall with only one thing on his mind—you. He was determined to find out what exactly were you and those three servants were discussing about. Yoongi was so rapt on you that he didn’t even hear his advisor calling out of him to come back.

He practically jogged to the chambers hall, heading straight to your room and when he got there, just as he was about barge right through the door he was then stopped by a sudden sound. Moans could be heard on the other side of the door—female moans. Yoongi’s hands were already hovering over the door handle before he opened it slightly to where there was only a crack, giving him the view of seeing your husband with same servant girl from the night before.

Yoongi watches as she claws his back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he place open mouth kisses along her bare chest and thrusted deep into her, causing loud, pleasurable moans to erupt from both of their mouths.

“T-Tae,” the young servant girl gasped, hands running up and down his sweaty back and fingers digging into his marked, glistening skin. “I’m close.”

“Me too, love,” he groaned back, leaning down and capturing her lips into a passionate kiss. “Together, okay...?”

Utterly shameless, Yoongi shook his head and pushed away from the door with disgust. Just as he was about to continue searching for you, he froze at the sound a voice behind him—a female voice.

“Are you looking for Lady Kim, your Majesty?”

Yoongi turned around and was greeted by one of your servants, hands laced together and hanging in front of her with a wide smile on her face. “No, I’m not,” he quickly replied, shaking his head. He expected her to just nod her head and leave, but instead she released a small chuckle and turned around, saying in a soft tone, “follow me.”

Yoongi was hesitant, eyes burning suspiciously into the servant girl’s back as she began to walk away. But he soon decided to follow her despite the constant warnings that were running through his head at the moment.

The servant’s gaze was trained on the path in front of her, not even bothering to acknowledge the glare she was receiving by platinum-haired man that was trailing right behind her.

The warnings that were consuming Yoongi’s head started to get louder as he continued to follow her deeper into his residence, parts of his home that he hasn’t even been in.

Yoongi stopped in his place when the servant led him to a room with dark, double doors. “What is this,” he asks with a cold expression, causing the young girl to chuckle and open the door without saying a word to him. He was about to question her even more but when he got to see what was behind the door, leaving him speechless.

Standing right in front him was you, along with over a dozen guards and servants that were from many different kingdoms. Some of the guards and servants were part of the Park Kingdom, some were from the Jung Kingdom, and others were from your own home.

“What’s going on here?” Yoongi asks, his eyes glancing across the many different pairs that were staring right back at him.

“They work for me,” came out of your mouth. “We are all part of movement that believes that the North needs a change in leadership—which is you. You’re the only that deserves to rule the North, not these cowards.”

Yoongi was speechless. For once in his life he didn’t know to say. For the first time he wasn’t the one that was planning in the shadows, plotting against somebody—but instead it was people who he has never even met before. “Why,” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

“Because war is coming your Majesty,” you stepped towards him to where you stood only inches away from his face, staring up to meet his eyes. “My agents told me that the South is planning an invasion into our territory, and the way the other kingdoms are ruling their land—we won’t survive this war. You are the only one that is capable of leading us to victory.”

Yoongi turned towards your followers. “Do you all agree with him?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” one of the guards spoke up. Each and every person then stepped forward and began to speak loudly on their opinions of their leaders.

“Park Jimin is too young to be King—he doesn’t know how to rule.”

“He can’t even hold a sword properly.”

“Jung Hoseok is a spineless man!”

“Damn right he is! The moment the South comes barging intl his palace, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his own skin and not his people.”

“Kim Taehyung is shameless bastard who would rather spend his time fucking his servants than leading his own Kingdom.”

Yoongi could see you snicker at that comment.

“He spends our taxes buying whores instead of using it to improve our home.”

“None of them belong on the throne!”

“They are right, your Majesty,” you stared at him with a small smirk on your lips. “Out of everyone, you’re the only that deserves to rule us. You are the one who will lead us to glory.”

Yoongi stared down at you with such desire. He may have found you attractive before, but now he couldn’t help but find you utterly irresistible. “So this isn’t just some power trip? Doing all this just to get to the top?”

Yoongi had his suspicions already about the war. He has heard from his own agents that the South were planning on some sort of invasion, but there wasn’t any evidence that confirmed that. So sadly he hasn’t been able to do any preparations—at least, none without the other royals knowledge of it.

You shook your head. “I don’t care about power, your Majesty—only survival, and you’re the best way to achieve that.”

“I see,” Yoongi reached up and stroked his chin, “how would you all do this anyway? Kill the rulers of each Kingdom can be tricky, and what about their heirs?”

“It’s quite easy,” you answered with a small grin. “They all have their jobs,” you nodded at your followers, “once they are home and unguarded, that is when they’ll strike. And as for their heirs, well, that’s not really a problem.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “Jung Hoseok’s wife is unable to bare a child, and he also doesn’t have any younger siblings to take over. So once he passes, rulership of his Kingdom immediately goes over to you. Same goes for my husband and Park Jimin.”

“I see,” Yoongi hums, biting inside of his cheek. “So what’s my job then?”

You smirk. “The only thing you have to do is have your succession speech ready, your Majesty.”

“But I have another problem,” Yoongi added. “Many people already disagree with our war with the South. How will we manage to persuade them that this is necessary? It’ll be difficult since three of the four leaders of the North are dead.”

“Trust me, your Majesty,” you spoke with such clarity and a smile on your face. “Everything is planned out and you don’t have to worry.”

Yoongi didn’t replay, eyes briefly glancing at the people that surrounded him. You must’ve noticed his still cautious state because next thing he knew you were signaling everybody out, telling them to “get some rest and prepare for your departure in the morning.”

“Why are you doing this exactly?” Yoongi asks the moment you two were alone in the room. “Because there is no damn way you’re doing this just for survival. I mean,” he suddenly chuckles, “you are giving complete control of the North. What is your angle here? Are you going to kill me after all this is so that you become Emperor?” Yoongi was starting to get frustrated. He has never had trouble understanding someone before until he met you. And now because of you, his mind was a complete mess.

“That’s not my intention at all, your Majesty,” smiling up at him, you placed your hand on his shoulder, smirking at the feeling of him tensing underneath your fingertips. “All I want is for the North, my home—your home to finally come out of its shadow that it has been forced to hide in for centuries.”

“And you think I’m the one that can do that?”

“Yes,” you nod, fingers dancing across his chest. “I’ve read records of previous Emperors and you’re the only that deserves that title. Unlike the other ones, you are resilient, intelligent, ruthless if necessary, and you even fight alongside your men which no other Emperor has done before.”

As each compliment came out of your mouth, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel himself starting to get hard underneath his lower robes, and you running your hands seductively over his chest definitely wasn’t helping.

“How should I repay you for your kindness then,” Yoongi found himself melting against your touch, his hands finding their way into your waist. “Because someone like you definitely deserves an reward for their loyalty.” Yoongi then turns you around in one quick motion, causing you to gasp at the sudden action and feeling his strong chest pressed up against your back and lips brushing against your ear.

A tiny moan escaped from your lips when feeling his hard length suddenly rub against your ass, you yourself starting to get hard as well. “Should I buy you plenty of jewelry, or maybe a large palace just for you?” Yoongi then pushed you up against the wall, smirking at the small gasp that came from you. “Or perhaps,” another moan came out of your mouth when one of his hands slipped underneath your robes and caressed the soft flesh of your behind, “make you wife?”

Yoongi chuckled when feeling shiver against him. “Yeah, you would like that, huh? Being my wife, an Empress, ruling right beside me?”

“Y-Yes, your Majesty,” you stuttered out, tilting your head back from the sensation, giving Yoongi the opportunity to lean down and leaving wet, tender kisses along your neck and bare shoulder, leaving dark bruises that’ll be near impossible to cover up tomorrow morning.

“Good,” Yoongi left another mark on your skin, dragging his finger across your ass, teasing your clenching hole with his fingertip. “Then how about we—secure our deal, then? And when you nodded, that was all Yoongi needed before turning you around to face him and crashing his lips down forcefully onto yours. The kiss was rough, yet tender and filled with lust. With your hands around his neck, Yoongi’s slid down to your thighs and hoisted you up into his arms, deepening the kiss with his lips moving in perfect sync against yours.

The kiss was like a drug that neither of you couldn’t get enough of.

“Please, your Majesty,” you whimpered against his lips, which made Yoongi want you even more than he already did. “Can you please h-hurry?”

Yoongi smirked against your lips, pulling away. “Don’t worry, my love, just be patient.”

It was quite ironic though, because Yoongi was everything but patient when it came to you. He couldn’t wait any longer. Instead of carrying you all the way to his chamber, he laid you on the closest flat surface which happened to be a table and tore your robes completely off of you, leaving you bare and them in ruins.

Yoongi decided to take his sweet time with you, dragging his lips across your ankles, up your legs to your meaty thighs. He then began to leave open mouth kisses over your abdomen and up your chest, teasing your nipples with his tongue and grazing the wet muscle over your collarbone. Yoongi continued his assault on your body until he reached back up your lips, capturing them this time into a soft, passionate kiss which you gladly returned without a second thought, hands sliding up to his shoulders and helping him strip from his own robes, revealing his pale and toned body.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, eyeing his define muscles, the way his abs clenched as he climbed onto the table and hovered over you, and the way his biceps bulged as he held himself above you. “Y-Your Majesty—”

“Yoongi,” he cut you off, pulling away and moving his lips to your throat. “Call me, Yoongi, my love.”

“Y-Yoongi,” you tried out, heart warming in both of your chests once hearing his name come out of your mouth. It sounded right coming from you. “Please—”

“Don’t worry, my love,” Yoongi reassured you, moving his lips back up to yours. “I’m here, I’m here. Let me show you how it feels to be loved by a real man, yeah?”

The night was then soon filled with nothing but the sound your combined moans, skin slapping and the shared whispers of sweet words between one another.

This was the start of something new.

“T-Taehyung, faster, faster please!”

The sound of the woman’s moans and the bed’s headboard banging against the connecting wall to your room made your blood boil. Your hands clenched into fists and teeth biting angrily down onto your lips.

“Be patient, my love,” you could hear your husband say through the thin wall, making the rage that flowed through your veins grow more. “Let me cherish you, beautiful...”

“Your Highness,” the sound of a man’s voice tore you out of your thoughts, “I’ve done what you’ve asked me to do.”

“Everything’s prepared and ready?”

The guard nodded his head once you turned around, “yes, your Highness. The only people remaining in the palace are your loyal followers. Everyone else has been sent home.”

“Good,” only came out of your mouth before leaving your chambers with the guard following closely behind you. You walked over next door and didn’t bother knocking before barging right in, your husband and the girl instantly jumping to cover themselves with the thin bedsheets.

“What the fuck?!” Taehyung curses loudly, staring at you with wide eyes and wrapping his arms around the girl’s waist, pulling her close. “What are you doing here? I told already you that I’m staying here tonight.”

“I know,” you replied with not even a single ounce of emotion heard in your voice.

Taehyung’s eyes then shifted towards the guard that stood beside you. “What’s going on here?”

You didn’t say anything, only smiled, and that caused fear to form in the pit of Taehyung’s gut. With just the simple nod of your head, the guard walked over to the servant girl and snatched her by her hair, tearing her away from his grasp and yanking her off the bed and onto the ground.

“Stop—” Taehyung tried to reach for her but stopped when the guard pulled out a dagger and held the sharp blade against her neck, tears shining in her eyes. He then turned towards you, eyes glistening as well, “why are you doing this?”

“Change,” was all you said before nodding your head again, giving the guard the order to slide his blade across the girl’s throat, killing her instantly and letting her limp body collapse into the ground.

“N-No no,” Taehyung didn’t hesitate this time to jump out of the bed, despite being completely nude and taking her now lifeless body into his arms, blood staining the ground and his skin, and tears spilling uncontrollably from his eyes. “She was pregnant...”

“Oh well.”

Taehyung’s head shot up from your heartless comment, his teary eyes shining with a newfound rage. Before he had the chance to say anything the guard approached him from behind and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. He immediately began clawing at his arms, trying to gasp for air that was becoming harder and harder to obtain, eyes bright red and nearly bulging out, tears slipping from them and sliding down his cheeks.

The last thing he saw before he took his last breath and eyes slowly closed was you standing in front of him with a sinister grin on your lips.

“Your Majesty.”

Yoongi glanced up from his book to see his personal advisor standing right in front of him by his library’s entrance. He hummed in reply, signaling for the young man to continue. We’ve gotten word from Lady Kim—” Yoongi glared at him, causing his advisor to pause and correct his words, “—I mean, ____’s agents that they have completed their duties.”

“They have?” Yoongi asked with a raised brow. He knew you were more than capable of doing this, but he thought something this major would take at least a week to accomplish. He didn’t expect to hear about any success a day later.

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded. “The Jung palace is flames at this moment and there is word that Jung Hoseok himself and his wife were in their chambers when the fire happened. And as for Park Jimin, he was found murdered in his bed with a dagger in his chest. Some say it was one of his concubines that done it.”

“What about Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi found himself asking, his mind instantly thinking of you. “Was ___ successful?”

“Yes, your Majesty he was,” his advisor answered. “I was informed about Kim Taehyung’s death by ___ himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. “Good.”

“Would you like to start writing your succession speech now, your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered. “We’ll have the succession conference next week, and make sure every minor clan leader comes so that they know who is in charge now.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded his head, and before leaving he turned back and said to him in a teasing tone, “oh, and someone is here to see you.”

Yoongi was about to ask him who it was, but he stopped himself when his eyes suddenly landed on you standing in his library’s entrance, his heart stopping in his chest at the sight of you. “H-Hey,” he stuttered out, cringing at the sound of himself. In all his years of living, nobody has ever had this type of power over him—but he wasn’t complaining either.

“Hello, your Majesty,” your reply sent tingles all over his body—and he loved it.

There was nothing but silence afterwards between you two because there wasn’t any need for words. The only thing you two needed to express the feelings you have for each other was your eyes—the passion, the lust, the want that shined in them.

This is just the beginning for you two.

would you guys like to see a drabble series of these two in the future maybe? emperor yoongi and his male wife.

TAGLIST:

@ben-c0c, @sombreboy, @theclawofsa, @joongtoons, @xavi-in-kpopland, @ephemeralkookie, @yoshiure, @illbeyournightmare, @sonderkook, @spaceisbigger, @catboygyu, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @xxminilah​

[geges]

I hope this isn't too rude or assuming, but I also wanted to know, if u had any favorite moments in any media u've liked that you're okay with sharing? (just asking since this also appears to be a fandom(??) / anime(??) blog and if u're ok with answering something really offtopic)

ANON I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU…. I WOULD LOVE TO INFODUMP ABT MY INTERESTS. PLS. sadly yes i’m mostly a fandom/interests blog, mostly cnovels and manhua, so this ask is pretty on-topic for my blog. obligatory disclaimer a lot of these things have Problems and Issues so this isn’t me saying i am an uncritical fan of the media this is just a list of scenes that make me incredibly hhghgnnneennn. some of them made me cry in the chicken feed aisle in a Tractor’s Supply once and im still upset abt that one. a lot of these have spoilers for various cnovels so i put it under a cut :)

additional warning that um. there's a lot of mentioned death/suicide. most of these are characters dying honestly

so, Media Of All Time favourite scenes:

(tgcf) legitimately every scene with qi rong im not joking i go crazy over him. notable mention of that scene in the Final Battle with gu zi……….. i’m insane

(liu yao) um. i don’t remember the main character’s name. but yeah him dying <3 jiayou! that one drives me insane i read it like once a week

(nan chan) mr human magikarp fucking dying and jin ling just….. losing it

(nan chan) jin ling’s subsequent imprisonment and isolation :)

(nan chan) JIN LING MURDER SPREE!!!!!!!

(huang jin tai) yan xiaohan getting drugged and immediately going to stab himself so that he doesn’t “betray” fu shen

(qian qiu) yan wushi hiding shen qiao in that buddha statue and running off to die

(teio) THE FUCKING EARTHWORM CRYING. GOD

(teio) everything with bai ruoyao. i love him im so homophobic

(mo du) fei du suffering for five entire books straight

(mo du) that scene near the end where he has to grasp the trigger handhold and his Immense Certified Trauma kicks in

(mo du) luo wenzhou NOT pokemon evolving into a big red flag the second he got one glimpse past fei du’s walls. Like that man saw Fei Du: Genuinely Unwell Extraordinaire, and not only did he not jab fd with a horse tranq, he just went and made the man dinner. what the fuck

(twwtadsl) the betrayal scene <3

(tsomd) sui zhou almost dying for tang fan like 2302984 times but notable mention of the First Time when he tried to die for tang fan in the fight against the tomb guardian

(missing sect leader) wei jiangyue going “I JUST CANT STAND IT WHEN HE’S NOT ALRIGHT……………..”

(missing sect leader) wei jiangyue making a bet with ye you that hinges the fate of the world or whatever and his terms for if he wins. instead of using the chance to ask for something large. he asks yy to just tell him something. anything at all. just tell him something

(missing sect leader) wei jiangyue telling ye you he will die for him to repent for his father’s mistake but hiding the fact that his willingness to die for yy comes from his love for him, not his guilt

(missing sect leader) that scene where yy reveals his identity and wjy realises that no matter what he has to leave yy alone and cannot even approach him again. and just sinking in shame and regret to spend his entire lifetime in pain from the fact that his presence causes yy pain

(missing sect leader) in front of the entire jianghu. wei jiangyue giving himself up to the threat of being brutally killed be ye you if it meant yy was given some sort of closure. jesus christ i don’t even like this book this much and yy/wjy isn’t even canon why do they have so much on this list

(tong qian kan shi) the insect cave scene <3

(tqks) xuanmin closing his eyes as he is put through incredible pain and torture, being literally killed, in order for xue xian to enact his revenge against the great priest

(tqks) the great priest forcing xx to recognize that his revenge will also kill xuanmin as collateral, xx not recognising xuanmin, and xuanmin just. closing his eyes and accepting his death

(tqks) xuanmin using his last dying action to dig out his own bones and bury them under the mountains to free xue xian.

(tqks) xuanmin making his way over to the unconscious xue xian, kneeling in front of him (really falling lmao), and dying while never looking away from his face :)

(tqks) xx regaining his memories, remembering xuanmin, and looking up to see xuanmin laying dead in his arms. then feeling fear for the first time in his life. man. man. ok

(qqgk) “MY DEAR, IF I LEFT MYSELF BY YOUR EAR, WOULD YOU BE ABLE TO HEAR ME? MAY WE MEET AGAIN IN A WORLD WHERE THE SMOKE IS GONE” THIS QUOTE MAKES ME INSANE. IM INSANE. JESUS CHRIST

(qqgk) the recurring imagery of snow. the snow. its about. it’s about. The devotion. oh god

(hsav) xiao yuan trying to die like. 6 times for yan heqing. also xya being tortured to save yhq. and then him trying to kill himself earlier . and then him killing himself for real later to make life easier for yhq

(tgcf) just. everything honestly. the “i am god” scene. the getting demolished by a ridiculous amount of swords scene.

(wushuang) cui buqu in the maze trying to die for feng xiao

(wushuang) feng xiao in the maze trying to die for cui buqu

(zhongji lanyin) su qing almost dying under the cave-in

(zhongji lanyin) hu bugui protecting su qing from the thorns

(谁动了我的骨灰坛) jiang xichu seeing chen man kill herself and not being able to do anything about it. literally the only scene i care abt from that book i ate that shit up

okay typing this out made me realise there is a very noticeable theme here. well. i really like tragedy so honestly i don't know know what i expected from this. if i re-read all my favourite books i would probably be able to give you a list of scenes i loved that have legitimate literary importance, value, and beauty, but sadly i have the memory of a goldfish and cannot remember most plots unless im Actively Looking At Them. so instead here is a list of scenes that are all candidates for making me cry during my next visit to a Tractor's Supply. thank you sm for the ask im in love with you

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Shelter (Part One)

I promised that I had something in the works for Jay White and I thought I’d share some of it since it’s gotten away from me a little. Thus far, I’ve written nearly 11,000 words and I have a fair chunk to go yet. (I expect that there’s another third of the story to be written. The good news is that I’ve figured out what is going to happen, whereas for a while, I was sort of waiting on the characters to tell me what was up.) 

This is only the second historical piece I’ve written (the first being The Escape Route, which was also the first piece of fiction I posted here) and I know that there are inaccuracies in it. The setting is northern England in the high MIddle Ages (13th-14th century) but I’ve assigned the place names and titles sort of randomly. 

Up front, I’ll confess that a number of people may find this section dull. It’s more of a “setting everything in place” part. This information will come in handy in subsequent sections, I promise. 

As to when those sections will be posted, my answer is that I’m typing as fast as I can and am actually making good progress. That means that there is definitely a lot more coming in the short term. (Of course, there may also be some other things forthcoming in the short term, but that’s a whole other thing.)

I still don’t know that I’ve posted enough stories here to warrant a master list but if you’re curious, all the fiction I write is tagged “wayward wrestle writing”. 

Pairing: Jay White x OFC (first person)

Word count: 3,933

Content advisory: Literally nothing in this part. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you. Seriously.

Married life was not what I had envisioned. My sister Elizabeth and I were taught to read as children and among the texts we’d devoured were the increasingly popular French romances. I understood that marriages were not like those stories. My older cousins, male and female, had had their marriages arranged by their families and usually didn’t meet their wife or husband until the day of the marriage. Nevertheless, Elizabeth and I both dreamed of being wooed and won, perhaps by a knight returning home from the wars abroad, or by a handsome noble traveling in disguise across the countryside. As our time came closer and our parents sought to finalize arrangements for us to marry, we hoped that we would at least find ourselves with a husband who would treat us as a friend and partner. But we secretly still held out hope for the dashing hero. 

As the elder, Elizabeth was married first, to the Earl of Louth, a vastly wealthy and powerful man whose connections saw him well received even by the King. Rumor had it that he had personally funded several of His Majesty’s military campaigns. Their wedding was a more sombre affair than others I had seen, with few minstrels and a longer mass, for her new husband was very devout and preferred something that honored the solemnity of their union. Nevertheless, her letters to me indicated that he did not impose his conservatism on her, and saw to it that she had ladies to keep her company, musicians to entertain her, and whatever books, clothes and jewels she could wish for. His avuncular indulgence became even greater when she bore him a son in the spring following their marriage. 

I knew I could not expect my own husband to hold such a high position since Elizabeth was the heir to our family’s estates and fortune. However, our stature was such that even a connection with us was desirable, especially for newly created gentry who sought to legitimize their positions. My father had found such a man but he died from fever before the marriage contract could be made. Eventually, I was given to Symon, the fifth and youngest son of the Duke of Cumbria. While he, like I, had no expectation of inheritance, he was more able to take care of me and his father was eager to reinforce his flagging influence by forging an alliance with a family in another part of the north. 

I tried not to be disappointed with Symon when I met him but he was immediately a hard man to love. Still young, his body showed the signs I had come to recognize as the result of heavy drinking and little sleep. His pale skin had crimson blooms over the cheeks and nose and his body was unevenly distributed, with thin limbs and a bloated belly. When I touched him, I was reminded of the texture of cloth left in the rain: limp and saturated. 

When I was moved to his estate in the eastern reaches of his father’s sphere, I soon found that he was indeed saturated most of the time. Our home was a constant stream of guests seeking nothing but a place for a good time and to indulge their vices. It became clear that our marriage had been a project of the Duke’s and that Symon had no interest in having a wife or being a husband. Nor did he have any skill at running a household and so it fell to me to manage as best I could, ensuring that we had all we needed, that our lands were tended to and that we maintained good relations with the other nobles and landowners. It was difficult, especially at first, since many of the servants spoke with an accent I could barely understand. After a few weeks of forced sociability, I barely saw my husband. 

I asked him on numerous occasions to allow me to invite Elizabeth and her family to visit, however he disliked the idea that he might have to play the host and refused. Nor would he allow me to accept one of her many invitations to visit her. I knew that what he really feared was their judgment, which would be harsh. Elizabeth would despise him for the way in which he treated me and her husband would be appalled by his louche lifestyle. 

Most worrisome was that Symon showed no interest in fathering children, despite his father’s obvious desire for him to do so. A child would truly bind our families. Nevertheless, while my sister was delivered of a second son by a man with grey hairs in his beard, my young husband refused to touch me. I overheard gossip among the servants that he said I was barren. I knew enough to understand that this could not be the case, or at least that he had no way of knowing, but it was troubling because I was of no use to the family if I could not bear children. If I could not fulfill that one obligation, the Duke would order his son to set me aside so that he could forge another alliance. 

Thus were many of my days spent in anxiousness, unsure of what I was doing to drive my husband away while at the same time praying that I might be able to accept him despite his failings. My letters to my sister were my sole outlet, although my lady-in-waiting Hannah was some comfort. 

It was late autumn when the spare routine of my life was interrupted in the dead of night. Hannah and Branwen, one of the house maids, arrived in my chambers, waking me none too gently to tell me that a travelling party had arrived unexpectedly. 

“If there are guests, you need to bring them to his lordship,” I grumbled, wiping sleep from my eyes. “His companions have nothing to do with me.”

“His lordship is indisposed,” Hannah responded, pinching her features to indicate her distaste. “And I do not believe these are kin or companions of his.”

“His lordship is always indisposed. And I am expecting no one, certainly not at this time of the night.”

“”Begging your pardon, ma’am,” Branwen interjected, “but the watchman says that the woman says she’s your sister. And the carriage bears the crest of the Earl of Louth.”

This roused me immediately, of course. I directed Hannah to fetch some robes so that I could appear at least somewhat decent and told Branwen to send word to the watch that the party was to be admitted. My heart pounded fast in my chest because I knew already that there must be bad news. Elizabeth would never arrive unannounced like this under normal circumstances. Nevertheless, I also felt excited at the prospect of seeing her again. 

When I was finally ready, I descended the stairs to the great hall where Elizabeth stood at the center of a small party, less than a dozen. Neither her husband nor her children were with her, only servants and guards. 

“Have you been unwell?” she asked sharply. 

“No, not at all. I’m perhaps a little tired.”

She extended an arm and pinched my chin, turning my face for her inspection. 

“Your complexion looks like you haven’t seen the light in weeks.”

“Elizabeth,” I insisted, pulling back from her grip, “I am fine. And while I am thrilled to receive you, I am a little confused as to what brings you here.”

“Should I stable the lady’s horses, ma’am?” the watchman asked nervously. 

“Yes.”

“No,” Elizabeth contradicted. “We’ll not be staying long enough to warrant it.”

For the first time, she pulled me close and I felt her hands tremble on my shoulders. 

“Ella,” she whispered, using my pet name as she always did, “mother and father are both taken ill. It struck him first and then her. No one seems to know what it is but they’re both sick. The Steward sends word that his life is in the balance. I’m on my way to them and I knew you would want to come.”

It would have been simple enough to send word to me that I should return home, however by now Elizabeth knew that going anywhere for me was going to present a problem. She had gone significantly out of her way to collect me herself, knowing that my husband would be unwilling to sanction my travel. 

“You mean to continue soon, then?” I asked her, feeling a little weak at the thought of my parents suffering. 

“Within the hour. And I mean to take you with me.”

The proper thing to do would be for me to summon my husband, no matter what state he happened to be in, and request his permission. I knew full well, though, that it was pointless. He would never consent to me leaving for any reason. I glanced around the room, noticing that a few of my servants had arrived to see what the commotion was. They’d be quick to tell on me if I left. But could I really risk never seeing my parents again simply to placate a man who refused to honor even the most basic tenets of our marriage?

“You’ll need some warmer clothes, my lady,” Hannah muttered, moving close to Elizabeth and I. “I shall have them brought down while the two of you are talking.

She turned a stern face to a couple of the younger girls and began issuing commands. The others stood in place, not daring to act while I was still in the room. 

Hannah returned and wrapped a thick cloak around me. 

“The girls will give some more to the carriagemen, if that is acceptable to her ladyship.”

“More than acceptable,” Elizabeth replied, her grey eyes sparkling. “You must be Hannah. My sister has written to me often about your kindness to her here.”

“It’s no more than she deserves, your ladyship.”

“And will you be accompanying us.”

“If my mistress will have me then yes I shall,” Hannah declared.

“Are you sure?” It was one thing for me to go running off in defiance of my husband but I never expected that Hannah would accompany me.

“I go where you go,” she said gently. “Besides, I should like to see the coast you’ve spoken of.”

Along with extra clothing and blankets for the journey, I bid the servants gather some food from the pantry for us to take with us. Elizabeth had brought what she believed she needed but I knew that the country between here and our parents’ home could be rough. Parts of it were lawless and the roads ill-tended. The going would be slower than it had been for her coming to collect me. 

She was quite surprised at the condition of the roads and the land as we rode. In many places, the roads were so decrepit and narrow that the guards flanking us were forced to ride single file, slowing us down so much that we could have walked faster. I had never seen this part of the country, having taken a longer but pleasanter route after my wedding, but Hannah and some of the others had prepared me for what to expect. Forbidding and desolate as it was, there was a kind of excitement to knowing we were crossing territory that was outside the command of any lord. We felt like we were a very brave group indeed. 

After two days ride, however, our party came to an unexpected halt. We heard men’s voices and then James, the senior guard assigned to Elizabeth, opened the carriage door, his face full of concern. 

“I’m sorry for the delay, but it seems that there is a problem.” He nodded in the direction that we were headed and continued, “A small company of soldiers just passed us on the road. They’ve told us that the road ahead is impassable and that there have been incursions all week by the Scots. Even if we could get through, there’s a great risk you could be taken hostage or worse.”

“How long will it take us to go around?” Elizabeth cried. 

I couldn’t help but give a mirthless laugh as I saw James’s face tense. “There’s no way around, Elizabeth. This is the only road through these parts. If we want to take another route, we’d have to go back six hours’ ride and then circle around well to the south, which adds another three days to the journey.”

All of us exchanged depressed looks until I thought of a possibility. “James, did the soldiers say how far ahead the road was blocked?”

“About five miles or so by their reckoning although they could not say for certain.”

“If I’m judging our position correctly, we’re not so far from Marlborough Castle, is that right?” I continued. 

James smiled a little and nodded, seeing where I was headed with my inquiries. “Not so far at all, ma’am. And the road should be open as far as the spur that leads to the castle.”

“Marlborough is the seat of John White, the Earl of Barr, who is a cousin of ours,” I explained. 

“A distant cousin. And I thought the Earl was dead?”

“The old Earl, yes, but you’re forgetting his son. Remember how they visited our home when we were young? There were two or three summers we passed together.”

“Oh yes, of course. I’d forgotten that was them. They were a kindly family.” Elizabeth’s face picked up immediately as she realized that things were better than they had seemed. 

“There’s a small problem, thought,” James added hesitantly. “That road is narrow and steep. There’s no way the carriage is going to manage it.”

“Well, I have an idea,” I responded. “I’m a good rider and so is Hannah. Let us go with a couple of the guards on horseback. Once we’ve spoken to the Earl, we can ask him to send some men to help move everything else to the castle. And hopefully he can help us come up with a plan to get past the danger.”

“I’m not going to just sit here and wait hours for your return, Ella. I should be the one to go.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I rebuked her. “You only gave birth a few months ago. It’s dangerous enough for you to be travelling at all, let alone going on horseback through the moors. Besides, I’m the better rider.”

Elizabeth seemed to argue but then a smile spread across her lips. “Oh yes, I just remembered their son Jay. He must be the Earl now. I’m sure you’re eager to see him.”

I felt my cheeks turn hot. “I’m simply thinking of the fastest way to get us to safety.”

“And not at all of the boy you were so enchanted by the last time you saw him?”

“We were children, Elizabeth. There was nothing romantic about it.”

Hannah could not resist a quiet laugh and James looked desperately uncomfortable. 

“Tell me, James,” Elizabeth asked slyly, “what do you know of the young Earl? Is he said to be very handsome?”

“Quite handsome,” Hannah piped up. “And very much sought after, as he’s never taken a wife.”

I shot her a dark look but at the same time, I felt a slight tremor in my heart. I did remember Jay White very well, despite the fact that it had been years since I’d seen him. He was a quiet boy for the most part but we had spent much of the time his family had stayed with us conversing about books and about history. It had been some time before I realized that such conversations were not common between men and women and it made me value their memory all the more. 

“Myself and Henry can accompany the ladies to the castle,” James offered. “I shall leave word that if we are not back by moonrise that the driver should return to the last town and see that you are sheltered there for the night.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “because if the Earl cannot or will not help us, it would be safer to meet there to determine what is to be done.”

*

The narrowness and steepness of the road were bad enough but there was also a high wind that made it even more difficult. It took us well longer than I had anticipated to make the castle gate and the reception we received from the guards there did little to inspire hope. They were surly and at first unwilling to send word that we had arrived and that we were seeking shelter. 

“You try my patience with this behavior,” I upbraided the head of the guard. “I will ask you a final time to tell the Earl that his cousin, the Lady Estella Fannon of Northumbria and Cumbria, seeks shelter with him for the night.”

The mention of my full title seemed to grease the locks, as a messenger was dispatched and quickly returned to say that we were to be let in. At the same time, as we passed, I was chilled by the look on the messenger’s face, as if we were game headed for a trap. 

There was a lot of activity in the castle, servants scurrying about and laughter reverberating through the halls and while it made for a warm atmosphere, I also knew too well what was likely happening. At least, I told myself, I had some experience negotiating with drunken young men, even if I hadn't always been very successful at it. 

Hannah cut a dubious look at me as we were ushered from the entrance hall into a large salon filled with people. As soon as our eyes adjusted to the blazing lights from the sconces and the fire, I felt James place a heavy hand on my shoulder and push himself in front of me.

Many of the guests were in various stages of undress, including at least two who appeared to be agents of the church. Mixed in with the wealthy were a number of low types including several women whose profession seemed obvious enough from their attire and demeanor. The addition of commoners to a party was something I wasnt used to but the rest felt familiar.

"My lady, you and your companion need to go back to the hall and wait while I speak to the Earl," James muttered.

"There's no point to that. I'm the one claiming kinship and the one he's met. Besides, I'm not fragile."

He still insisted on staying a step ahead of me as the curious crowd parted before us and we approached the lord of the manor.

Jay White was much changed since I had last seen him. He now wore a beard, trimmed in what I believed to be a french style, which on its own made him look more a man than the boy I remembered. However, he seemed to have changed in almost every way. His previously slender frame had filled out, which was all the more evident because he lay stretched over a sofa, his shirt undone and his muscular chest bared. I could see the bulk of his shoulders barely covered by his tunic. What was most striking, though, was the change in his expression; boyish enthusiasm and gentility had been transformed into something hard and cold, a downy chick grown into a falcon. I recognized the intelligent blue green eyes I had known but there was something unsettling about them now, something dangerous.

I tried to avert my eyes from his body in the name of modesty and to avoid looking at the woman next to him, whose clothes were in a state of disarray.

"My noble cousin, I am sorry to arrive so unexpectedly and to come to you in need. My sister and I were making our way to Northumbria but we have been advised that the road is impassable. So although it has been many years since we have met in person, I find myself forced to ask for your lordship's hospitality and assistance."

He took a long swallow from the bottle of claret in his hand, his eyes moving over me with an intensity I found difficult to bear. His gaze flitted briefly to the other members of my party but quickly returned to me before I spoke."

"My lady," he drawled in a mocking tone, "how pleasant it is to see you again, even if it is in difficult circumstances. I notice that your sister isn't with you. How is it that you came to be separated?"

"Our carriage could not manage the road down the hill and I thought it best that I go ahead with this small party while she and the others waited with the carriage on the high road."

"Goodness. I hope that she won't encounter any misadventure. The Scots have been making attacks in these parts since midsummer and the anarchy they bring creates a haven for criminals."

"All the more reason, sir, why we are forced to place ourselves at your mercy." 

At the word "mercy", a sneer spread over his features and I felt like the young man who had passed the summer with us had been devoured by this vicious creature. He paused before addressing himself to his guards, who had entered behind us.

"Geoffrey, convey the two gentlemen to the visitors' quarters and the Lady Estella to the chambers in the west tower. Her handmaiden can take the room adjacent."

A look passed between master and servant that made me want to tell him that we would find our own way, as madas that seemed. But Geoffrey and his men quickly herded James and Henry away, while another guard instructed Hannah and I to follow him.

"Will you be able to send your servants to find my sister and the others?"

"I shall make sure that they are brought here before you wake in the morning."

The chambers where I was brought were considerably rougher than I would have expected. The room was small with a tiny antechamber only large enough for a bench that allowed one to sit and look out the window. The bedding was thin and the mattress made of straw that smelled damp and old. It was some time before a maid even arrived to light the fire.

"I would like to see my companion," I told the woman as she furiously worked to get the fire to take. 

She said nothing but gave me a suspicious look. 

"If you can just direct me to her room, I shall go speak to her myself."

I rose to leave and immediately the woman gave a loud cry. Two guards rushed in to investigate and I repeated my request to them.

"The Master decides those things. It's up to him when you all see each other."

"Well then please tell the Master to come and speak to me right away."

The guards glanced at each other with a dry laugh. 

"We shall do what we can, mistress."

Whether they even conveyed my request, I did not know. I know that I sat for hours on the bench in the window, watching the moon rise in the dark sky and wondering if White's men had reached Elizabeth and the others before they headed back to the town to seek shelter for the night. When everything seemed at its quietest, I thought to try to find Hannah’s room myself, only to discover that the door to my chamber was locked.

[unikornu]

🌹, 🍂, 💐, 🌺, 💫, ☄️ for Lucy? 🍁, 🌸, 💦 for Harrison?

Thank you kindly for the asks! Let’s go:

Lucy: 

🌹 Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? What does home mean to them?

Home for Lucy is whenever she is sure no one from the fair distance and within same walls wants to stab her in her sleep. Nuka World under Harrison protection will be the most home-ish and safe place since also after the disciples wiping she did prove her worth and loyalty to the raider’s goals and now they no longer need to sleep with one eye open with Gage since Harrison is patrolling and staying up all nights and gang leaders might not have such a strong urge to betray her. Later eventually she will set up base back in Sanctuary in her mother’s home since they will need second solid base in Commonwealth and somewhere deep in the woods still lies a pre-war secret lab section  that will be important for Harrison in order to understand the experiment and maintain his power as well as his body. A place where she can put down her guard, where she can sense presence of her boss and be sure Gage is also nearby will always be worth calling home but there are few places like this since later on her reputation will be more knowledgeable to wasteland folks and she will be on wanted list of sort. 

So yeah what can i say...away from Nuka World home announcement for them would sound like so:  A small blond lady along with a raider thug and tall grumpy old man looking for a warm cave to duck in without worry of being pitchforked by angry local settlers and half of the commonwealth. Ain’t many places they can call home, poor fuckers. 

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with receiving affection from others?

Oh she secretly loves hugs and affection of any kind but keeps in mind its better to leave them for very few and private moments. Besides how the hell that would make her look in society she is stuck with. Harrison and type of her job forced her to strip her mind from emotions as they were useless and making her weak but once the events calmed down they do come at peace and leave that part behind. With friends in public like Lizzie she will bump against their shoulder with a smile or chuckle, its safe in public and still reflects that she feels good in their company. With Harrison she will just bury herself in deep fatherly hug when gone for a few days, especially he is very tall and big so its like hugging a yao guai just in a brown thick coat. And because she never had a good father experience that hug will mean a world to them. With Gage she knows he has a hard time to be soft fucker but as the time goes on, the affection switches from small things, like checking his patch out and forcing to help taking care of his wounds too, not just hers, into letting down the bitch tough face and raider stiff attitude. Inviting him for the drink, just two of them, closing the distance and ending up just resting against his chest or sleeping hugged to his back. If the urge is strong and rules can go fuck themselves she will just charge at him and let all that sweet stuffed in her chest love drown him. 

As for people who didn’t reach yet friend level any kind of touching contact which doesn’t involve knife is for her a way to show affection. Be it soft fist bump in their arm, fast shoulder shake or very split millisecond side hug. Hell, even if she smiles at them its already a good sign, and in a humane soft manner, not the smirky bitch one. If her resting bitch face goes away its already a fantastic sign and promising future she won’t stab them later on. 

💐 How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need?

If you tell her to do that when there is shiet to be done and there almost always is in her mind you will see a constant middle finger, raised from the bed and the moment you turn around or leave she will be gone, sneaking away to get at least her knife and try to leave outside. She was raised to fulfill mission, no matter what so a stupid cold or broken bone is suppose to nail her in place. Fuck no, she can’t right? She can’t be that weak even if pain sweats her eyes. Gage learns slowly her urges as with each park taken he sees her taking extreme solutions to many situations, not thinking about possible bad outcomes so when the really bad cold catches her or she got badly wounded again he will be the one yelling at her to stop that shit. Aside from usual care like shoving injections or closing wounds and occasional cooking he will be constantly ensuring her that she can close both eyes shut and get an actual restful sleep, that he is on the watch and nothing out there waits to kill her when she ain’t looking. World neither will fall apart in flames if she will be gone in dreams for few hours. With Harrison come back that part is becoming easier as the simple sharp look in his eyes of mixed care and threat is convincing enough to put that knife down and shove her ass back in bed. With Gage guarding the Fizztop and Harrison overlooking the rest of the town there is no way of sneaking out and in this case it would be a bit ungrateful since they both put so much effort for her. 

She is better at taking care of others than herself tho if these are in her social circle. She doesn’t need to force herself, it comes natural to her. She will switch in a second from a vicious bitch to a caring bitch. Trying even to overcome her lack of cooking skills to deliver something warm and edible to that person if need. If she can’t get that fucking soup perfect for shit she will threaten and kidnap a local masterchef of sort to make and teach her how to do it. She means well but...ya remember her empathy can have weird and extreme outcomes.

Lol imagining like someone being under her care when sick and they go to the bathroom and spot a chef cook in a kitchen chained to a fucking stove cooking some good shit and Lucy siting at the table reading a cooking recipe and pointing a pistol at them.          

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

Normally she would drink or take calmex right away but she slowly tries to give up on that addiction as they do more harm than good. Having Gage or Harrison around will help to break that thought if she can either crawl up to Porter’s bed or wake him up to ensure that everything is real and alright or kindly ask Harrison to watch over her as he doesn’t need to sleep. Maybe he looks like a nightmare in a dark but its her nightmare she is familiar with.

If alone tho she will struggle, she hates to be alone for too long. If fear strikes her at battlefield she will try to cover her fear and damp it down with anger instead, psycho or fury could help and she isn’t addicted to it as to calmex so that’s one way out but stupid. If its just a nightmare in a middle of a night she won’t go immediately to sleep but walk around, talking to herself and convincing it was just a dream, grab a mannequin, do a silly dance with it, anything silly to relax a mind and take it off the stress and that nightmare. A shot of booze won’t hurt as long as it ends up on just one but it rarely does. Reassurance is her best ally in these beside she is too big of a girl for comforting items like an old plush puppet found in some certain treehouse back in Sancturary....right...riiiiight? ._.

💫What is your favorite fact about this character and why?

I think the simple fact that she is kind of evil oc and she knows about it. I don’t think there is many characters of this kind out there but i might be wrong. Since childhood i was trying to strike best - peaceful outcomes in games and so on but later on i started to sympathize with actual villains, be it games and stories. They can be full of surprises and complex in a interesting way, prove to be actually powerful allies as well and in general they talk to me more than a basic superman trying to strike for a world peace.  

☄️ Does this OC deserve better treatment from you? Do you make them suffer just a little bit too much? Be nice to them!

Oh ye, ofc she deserves better, she wants hugs, friends, she is bad but she wants a warm treatment too from time to time, she still have emotions ;c  Me, the creator, Uni, i’m horrible to her. I burned her hands too, like noooooo you can’t just wear gloves all the time for no reason, lets do smth bout it that will fit with all that dedication ya willing to push yourself in a fight no matter the consequences. Get burned bitch. Anyway, i’m taking her off the calmex addiction, giving her Harrison back as a better man who wants to protect her and do braids on her hair and softening the stinky to a level of a warm wet piece of trash, maybe getting some actual friends on a way. The pages on a start were focus more on a action and game lore kind off and just parks themselves but now with last page i finally get to actually break down and slow the shit to get to more emotional level, at least i hope to get it that way. 

Now Harrison time:

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themselves? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favorite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Sadly he will be very lost at the start to find this kind of spot as he popped into the world from nowhere, just finally doing the separation from Lucy to a nearby old synth skeleton in a heat of a fight situation. Since the disciples base got a vacancy and cleaning it up feels too much of an effort for the rest of gangs he decided to make this place his comfort zone as its fairly close to Feit base but still separated behind walls, no windows to peek in for curious ones. He can’t sleep so he has a plenty of time to make it his corner. The only things he posses are his memories so he will just meditate there and surround himself with all the good moments from the past, adding the new ones to the collection, keeping his humanity on check and all the urges balanced. Also trying new tricks with his powers feels safe to do it there, the telekinetic ones especially since the place is spacey and there ain’t much to break. He doesn’t want to go too far away even if he needs a moment, he always has in the back of his head the need to be close when problems arise.

Personally on a side note i struggle to think of an explanation to the Nuka World leaders and overall people there as to how Lucy will explain to them...who the fuck he is and why he is there and where he came from and why give him a disciple base. Like...saying a truth to Gage is easier since they run together but the rest? She can’t even say he is her lost-found father since they don’t even look like family. 

🌸 What are some of their favorite things and why? List as many as you can think of!

There won’t too many as he just got off but some basic stuff i know for now:

- sweet snacks, whiskey and smokes as he still remembers these tastes from pre-war: just being softie for these small habits and diet sins

- being in charge, keeping order around due to his profession, even if times changes he still keeps the attitude and he just likes it

- training the newbie raiders, pointing out mistakes to Porter, advising Lucy on some combat moves and tips: it might feel like he is being proud, all knowing but he actually is hell of a experienced smart fighter, don’t get fooled by his age either, he just enjoys training people under him and see them improve  

- proving Porter wrong: oh boy they really don’t like each other at the start

- doing dem braids, he starts to have a soft spot for going father mode

- even if he isn’t fully human he takes care of his “shell”, perfectly shaving, keeping his shirts clean and smooth, overall he enjoys that “self care” routine even it it might feel silly in the wasteland and due to the fact who he is 

💦 If you as the writer could erase one traumatic event from this OC’s life what would it be and why?

Probably killing his son. The experiment would get to him one way or another since he would get suspicious what kind of shady business is going on in police department and asking too many questions and stuffing nose in corners he shouldn’t would eventually lead anyway to his assassination and still giving his body for that experiment resulting in same outcome but the sudden trauma and speed of events is what pushed him out of there, taking control of himself and situation also resulting in his nature softening and toning down, knowing he doesn’t have much left and it can be lost at any moment. 

[trailerparkflower]

Borderline personality disorder + Steve Harrington?...

So I was thinking about how Steve acts in relationships, researched dependency from the partner and then found a lot of info about BPD, wich made me think what many of the disorder symptoms are very fitting to Steve and explains some things in his behaviour. Lets starts, guys!

Promiscuity.

All his teen life Steve been slutting around probably too scared for serious relationships (because its better that way, no one will leave him if he leaves them first), all charming and needy and touch-starved, calming down his desire for attention and affection. 

Unstable relationships/idealization of the partner, lack of boundares.

Then he settled in the realationships with Nancy (who are brave and smart and oh, so stable), which turned out pretty much unhealthy from both of the sides, and Steve became so depended on his her to the point of breaking up his bounds with everyone else( including his probably childhood best friend Tommy) except her and planning all his life to revolve around Nancy.

Fear of abandoment, frantic efforts to avoid being alone.

He fears what Nancy will abandon him so much what he becomes even more clingy and needy, while she gains even more control in relationships and becomes a “top dog” (from Joe words). In ST1 we also see how insecure and  jealous Steve was to Jonathan, his dramatic reaction on John and Nacny hug, jumping in conclusions without any evidences. He even breaks Jonathan camera in the begining just out of his “insecurity” (again, based on Joe interview), fear what Nancy and Jonathan have better understanding of each other. In other words, he afraid what Nacny will leave him for someone else and he will stay alone again. Steve Harrington canonically has big abandoment issues, probably cased by neglecting parents.

Needing attention+validation

Idk if I even should comment it. We all know what King Steve persona was build for getting attention, admiration and validation from others, know how much time Steve spends on his looks and hair, how pleased he is when Tommy and Carol have all eyes on him. When he doesnt get compliments from Nancy, he pouts and praises himself on his own because he needs that.... “see, a ninja”; “make sure you wont forget this pretty face”, ect. You ask me, Steve has the biggest praise kink in all Hawkins.

Inability to regulate emotion, difficultes with anger controlling. Impulsivity.

Steve is one yelling bitch. He is a soft boy, but when he gets really upset and angry, he becomes mean and yelly and acts without thinking. He tears apart his own essay because Nancy couldnt help him with it, he pouts, storms of the rooms, screams at people. 

Getting upset easily + habit of blocking out intense painful emotions.

If you ask Steve how he doing, he probably will smile and say “peachy!”. Not because everything is really peachy, but because Steve prefers to ignore his own problems and things what makes him sad and pretend what everything is perfectly alright. He asks Nancy go to the movie and “pretend everything is normal for a few hours.”, says what his parents totally gave him hell for drinking beer but “who cares, screw them” and changes the theme. Tommy screams “run away, Stevie boy, like you always do!”, wich suggest us what Steve has a tendentions to avoid confrontations and stressful situations. He once again says Nancy go to the party and pretend to be normal teens in ST2 when she voices her concerns, and we see what ignoring problems and pretending is Steves constant coping mechanism for stress fear and sadness.

Distorted self-image.

Steves sense of self also seems to be instable and based on how people around him see him, like with Tommy he was a school bad boy, with Nancy he became a good guy, with Dustin he became a total soft dork as we see in ST3 trailer. He is unsure about his own goals, he doesnt knows who he is and who he wants to be, like wich job he prefers and what he likes to do in his life generally. Tending to base his own self on his relationships with other people, he gets complitely lost in the end of ST2 when Nancy is no longer with him.

Self-harm, self-desctuctive behaviour. Self damaging acts as drinking, drugs, vandalism.

Steve smokes, drinks, gets into the fights he cant win. Stands near Tommy when he writes about Nancy the slut and Jonathan the creep, runs away from cops. I would even say what his fight with Jonathan was quite maschostic, because Steve rilled him up and then barely protected himself and almost didnt resisted when Jonathan pushed him to the ground and started to punch non stop. Tbh for me it seemed like if Steve was so upset what he wanted some physical pain to blur his emotional one.

Dissociation, "zoning out"

Sometimes if you pay enough attention, you see Steve standing/sitting here with blank empty face. Usually it happens in stressful events, when he has some free time by himself. He also gets slow time to time, like hes habing hard time to concentrate. Cant be sure, but its does seems like zoning out. Im think there was even some parody video where people noticed what Steve sometimes gets blank faced and slow in the middle of the talk.

Paranoidal ideas, anixety, nervousness

Oh, this one is easy. You honestly wont find another ST character who is so full of anixety. He is fidgety, he hugs himself in a self-defense manner, he makes himself look smaller than he is, he constantly has the deer in the highlights look on his face, he cant think and act straight when he meets the Upside Down monster first time, so Jonathan even has to grab his hand and yank him to run. We also see how Steve is afraid of the goverment in the ST2, I would say its paranoidal behaviour-its seems like he does think what they are constantly being watched. Says what they will destroy their lives and families and changes the theme what Nancy wants to discuss.

In ST1 he is also ridiculously scared what his parents, dad especially, will find out what he drunk some beer, he gets so scared of this idea what he even calls Nancy and asks not to mention that to the cops, says what his parents will “Murder him”. 

In ST2 he is also pretty freaked out by Billy, in basketball scene when he is pushed down and Billy holds his hand you can see what Steve is trembling and looks like he is going to cry. Im not joking guys, just rewatch the scene....Poor guy just cant have a rest!

Presistent feelings of emptiness & guilt

“I'm sorry? What the hell am I sorry for?”

No matter is he guilty or not, if Steve having a conflict with someone, most of the times he will feel guilty and be sorry, as we see in the show. He wants to apologize to Jonathan for telling him means things, saying, “I just wanna be good, make things right”, buys him new camera (and giving it to Nancy, not presenting it to Jonathan himself.), cleans local theatre, he says sorry to Nancy, calls himself a jerk, a shitty boyfriend (wich is kinda downgrading himself), wanting to bring her roses and say how sorry he is again. Dustin also easily kind of guilt trips (”you promised to protect us”)  him to protect the party in the tonnels, while Steve clearly was against the whole thing, and feeling really unwell after getting his ass beaten by Billy.

Learning disability/scool problems. BPD can make it difficult for them to control the focus of their attention, to concentrate.

Steve plays it cool and pretends unbothered, but he actually tries hard to learn stuff. Even in ST1 we see in his room, what his table is covered by various homework papers. Its been shown what Steve having a hard time with study, what he is eager to be useful but not the smartest guy around, from his really chaotic essay and getting C-, to the Nazis comment. Its seems like he has some learning disability and doesnt even knows about it himself.

 Its also a known hinted fact what Steve doesnt have a good relationships with his parents, especially with strict father, he even calls him a “grade A asshole”. By their absence in the series, when we saw all the main character families, Steve remains all alone in big house, wich makes us think about how neglecting they are. The thing is, “people with BPD  have been found to be significantly more likely to having been abused by parents.”

During development, Joe Keery and the Duffers spoke about “what kind of family life [Steve] comes from and maybe this girl Nancy is quiet and listens in a way that other people haven't listened to him at this point.”-wich is pretty fitting to the portrayal of “neglecting, denying the validity of childnren thoughts and feelings parents”-that type of the bad parenting what BPD people mostly experenced.

“Parents were also reported to have failed to provide needed protection and to have neglected their child's physical care”, what gaves us the possible reason of Steves constant anixety and running away from the problems issues.

So, while we dont know can it be canon or not, I would say what there is high possibilities what Steve has BPD.

[1-1snailxd-art]

The Shield to your Sword

Masterlist 

Overview

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Type: Alternate Universe - Fantasy and Magic 

Rating: Mature (just to be safe - there will be injuries and death throughout the general story) 

Warnings: injury, blood, physical abuse, emotional abuse, character death, curses, swearing (please message me if more need to be added)  

Relationships: Prinxiety (Roman & Virgil) 

Fandom Characters: Prince Roman Aelin, Virgil Fidencio, Logan Rae Lason, Deceit (Snake Eyes), Patton *spoiler*, Remus *spoiler* 

Summary: Roman is the arrogant, but naïve, Prince of Azmar; a kingdom in the land of Sanderz. Virgil is an orphan the Queen took in as a companion for Roman, and they have been a pair ever since. Though he thinks the world of his closest friend, Roman will discover there is much Virgil has kept from him over the years. The truth is a tough pill to swallow, but Roman is going to have to swallow it if he is to save those he holds dear and protect his people from an invading kingdom.

Ao3 link (just in case mobile is being unfair and messing up my paragraphs) 

Tag Support Team

Thank you so much to these individuals who took an interest in my fantasy concept. The sample you read will be in a later chapter. I decided to build Roman and the realm up a bit more prior to presenting that scene, rather than flashing back. 

@small-reptile-cake @daflangstlairde @quoth-the-sparrow @it-me-the-phi @soul-of-a-vixen @the-real-wholesome-bitch @phe-purple-parade-ts

________________________________________

Chapter 1 - Prince’s Paradise

The morning light slipped between the parts in Prince Roman’s curtains as the winds changed direction. Sunlight reflected off Roman’s mirror; shining directly onto his eyelids and blinding him as he blinked at the disruption to his rest. With a groan, Roman sat up; running his fingers through his naturally auburn hair and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Peering around his room, he noted that fresh clothes had already been laid out for him, along with a glass of water and an apple.

Smiling to himself, Roman grabbed the apple and moved to open his curtains, revealing his view of his mother’s  garden, and the edge of the training area. Taking a seat on the sill, he looked out at what he believed to be paradise. Happy citizens, healthy stock, plenty of crops and a strong, armed force; what more could a Prince ask for?

Setting the apple core on his side table, Roman headed to his bathroom. Stripping down, the prince ran his hands over the heat and water runes, feeling his soul magic run from his fingertips and activate the magic to start his shower. He bathed briefly, simply to warm his muscles and freshen his hair for the day ahead; waving his hand across the runes again, the water flow ceased immediately.  

Magic was a common thing in the lands of Sanderz. The natural magic of the land had been harnessed generations prior, as individuals became aware of their own soul magic and used ancient runes to control both magic types. As the years progressed, more and more developed an awareness of magic and the art of using runes evolved. In modern times, runes were in common use by those with and without an awareness of magic.

Some saw their magical abilities as a blessing, but for Roman it was just his birthright. Nothing to be thankful for, just a power to flaunt as he pleased. Walking the castle halls, he summoned his sword from the tattoo on his wrist; swinging and twirling the blade to a beat only he could hear. His white uniform a clear contrast against the brick walls and his black pants. Many had said that his style choice was foolish, but Roman loved the idea of parading in the crimson blood of his enemies after a battle.

 His footsteps echoed loudly in the private dining room as he danced his way inside.

“Good morning, Prince Roman.”

Roman spun, sword vanishing from his hand as he faced the young maid standing in the corner.

“Good morning, Iris!” He gave the girl a pleasant smile, but she quickly bowed her head as she did every time Roman spoke.

“Shall I fetch you your breakfast?”

“That would be wonderful. Oh, Iris, have you seen Virgil this morning?”

“Apologies, I have not. I shall send for him at once.” Iris quickly headed for the door.

“Uh, no-no.” Roman’s words fell on deaf ears as Iris left the room with her mission in mind. “I do hope Virgil doesn’t mind me calling for him.”

 **********************

 Virgil had finally achieved a deep sleep after completing a late night on guard duty. Though he was technically a ward of the Queen, Virgil still took on work so he could share his earnings with those less fortunate than him. Not to mention, he liked the added security of being self-sufficient should he suddenly be cast out of the castle.

He would have happily slept until lessons that afternoon, but Iris roughly shook him awake.

“Virgil… Virgil, please wake up.”

“Wha-what is -oing on?” He grumbled through a yawn; slowly sitting up.

“Prince Roman has requested your presence for breakfast.”

“Oh, has he now. Tell him I’m busy.” With that, Virgil pulled the blankets over his head and laid back down.

“No, Virgil, please.” Iris begged, shaking Virgil with more force now. “I can’t defy the Prince, I can’t.”

The fear in Iris’s voice woke Virgil up as he realised what he had just asked the young maid to do. If word got to the King that they had defied the Prince, they would both be punished. Sitting up, Virgil looked into Iris’s tearful and terrified eyes; apologising as he pulled her into a secure hug.

“I know. I’m sorry, Iris. I’m coming. It’s okay. I’m coming.”

 While Iris left to fetch breakfast, Virgil was quick to change into fresh clothes; a loose long-sleeved purple shirt, black vest and pants. Grabbing a leather bag containing his training gear, Virgil left his chambers and headed up to the dining room to meet Roman.

  **********************

 Virgil’s footsteps were silent in the halls as he approached the dining room to find Roman admiring himself in a mirror. Leaning against the doorframe, Virgil watched as the Prince picked at a loose gold thread on his uniforms decorative design.

“Oh, you wish to challenge me, do you?” Roman asked his reflection, and Virgil stifled a laugh. “I am afraid you are out of luck, for this shall not be a challenge for me!”

Roman summoned his sword, slashing at the mirror as he pretended to fight his ‘foe’; before turning and catching Virgil’s smiling form in the doorway.

Straightening immediately, Roman retracted his sword and tried to hide his embarrassment. “Virgil! Good to see you. Ho-how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to make the wakeup call worth it, Princey.” The prince’s face reddened as Virgil walked over to the table, unable to remove the grin that lit up his face.

“Um, yes, well…” Roman was at a loss for words and Virgil revelled in every second of it.

“You know, if you use all your magic playing games with yourself, you’ll have nothing left for actual practice later.”

“Me? Run out of magic? Ha! That is impossible.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “you’ve got skill, Roman, but even you have limits.”

“Says you.”

“Says facts.”

“Facts shm-acts, I know what I’m capable of and I-“

 Virgil was thankful that Roman’s rambling was cut short as Iris returned with a plate and bowl in hand.

“Your breakfast, Prince Roman.” Iris placed the loaded plate before Roman, and the bowl of porridge in front of Virgil. “Is there anything else you require?”

“No thank you, Iris. That is all.”

With a quick bow of her head, Iris scurried out of the room. Roman eyed his plate of sausages, bacon, eggs, tomato, mushroom and a fresh bread roll. Once Virgil was sure the room was clear, he reached over and grabbed the bacon from Roman’s plate.

“Hey!” Roman pouted as the other smirked and licked the smoked meat. “That was my breakfast.”

“And this is my payment.” Virgil glanced sideways at his friend, “you did wake me after a night shift on guard duty.”

Mouth full of tomato, Roman paused mid bite as he suddenly remembered Virgil asking not to be woken that morning. Forcing himself to swallow, he gave his friend an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I completely forgot.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Again, Virgil checked the room was clear, before reaching for the honey on the table and sweetening his meal. “Just please, Ro, no wake-up calls tomorrow. I need a little more than 3hours sleep if I’m going to protect your arse.”

“My ‘arse’ does not need protecting, but I will keep that in mind. I don’t want to be seen hanging around with Sir Racoon Eyes.”

“Nice. Very original. Now eat your breakfast.”

 The pair continued to eat in silence; Virgil easily cleaning his bowl before Roman. Cautious eyes scanned the room before Virgil snuck any more of Roman’s leftovers. This banter was common between the pair, though he was always careful. Roman may have accepted and appreciated Virgil’s antics, but that didn’t make them appropriate in the eyes of the King or his knights.

 With full bellies, the pair leaned back in their chairs and shared a bemused grin, which quickly soured as a question came to Virgil’s mind.

“Has there been any word on your Mother’s condition?”

Roman looked down at his lap, fidgeting with the gold band on his middle finger.

 The Queen had been unwell for the past 5 years. Plagued by frequent chest infections from an old war wound. Virgil hadn’t seen her in months, thanks to the King’s increasing distrust towards him. Unless the Queen herself called on him, Virgil was not permitted to access to her chambers. Even when Roman had asked him to accompany them, he was quick to find an excuse to avoid the possibility of crossing paths with the King. Despite everything, Virgil still worried for his surrogate mother and it hurt that he couldn’t see her more often.

 “She is as can be expected for the spring.” Roman admitted, “I try not to go to her room too much. All the pollen, you know.”

Virgil nodded, quietly wishing he hadn’t brought it up as he watched the sadness take over Roman’s usually happy features.

“We should probably get out of here,” Virgil finally offered, “I’m sure Iris is just itching to return and clean the room up.”

As if hearing her cue, Iris entered the room.

“I hope everything was to your liking, Prince Roman.” Eyes never rising higher than the table, she quickly collected the dishes.

Sadness dissipating, Roman was back to his usual self. “It was indeed. Bacon was a little light,” he gave Virgil a sideways grin, “but I enjoyed it none the less.”

“Oh. Um. I’m sorry.” Iris quickly left the room faster than a mouse that had run across a heat rune.

As soon as Iris was gone, Virgil punched Roman’s shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” Rubbing his shoulder, Roman looked at Virgil in confusion.

“You can’t say shit like that to her.”

“Chill out, Virge.” he mused, rising from the table, “It just means more bacon tomorrow and I can willingly share it with you.”

 Virgil internally fumed as he followed Roman out of the room. The Prince truly was blind to the power he held over those around him and how that one little statement could force a cook to be banished from the castle, or even incarcerated for not ‘meeting the needs of the royal family’. Walking through the halls, Virgil just hoped Roman’s comment wasn’t blown out of proportion or fell onto the wrong ears. Iris may have been timid and useless in Roman’s presence, but she was far from foolish; that’s what Virgil believed to be true anyway. He had to believe. The last thing he wanted was to have a family’s misfortune on his conscience.

  **********************

 The sun had reached its midpoint, as Virgil lent against a tree with his eyes shut and did his best to tune out Roman’s grunts as he continued to lift weights. The pair had spent a few hours completing solo weapons training and strength development. Normally, Virgil was more than happy to put his endurance to the test, but his early morning call meant he wasn’t in the mood for Roman’s antics.

 "Come spar with me, Virgil," Roman called, throwing a weighted stone aside and causing the ground to vibrate slightly.

"I'm not in the mood, Princey." Virgil called back, not even acknowledging Roman with a glance.

"Oh, come on." Whined Roman, sauntering over to cast a shadow over his friend. "You've been laying there forever."

"Don't be so dramatic, and if you hadn't of woken me I wouldn't be so tired right now."

"And I'm being dramatic," Roman playfully kicked Virgil's boot. " Come on. One quick spar."

"Roman, no."

"Come ooooooon."

"Let it go, Princ-"

 "I believe your Prince gave you a request."

 Virgil's eyes shot open at the sound of the King's commanding voice, and he wished he had a giant camouflage rune so he could disappear into the tree behind him. He knew instantly that he was in trouble, the tone alone was terrifying, but the fire in his eyes communicated his anger tenfold.

"Father!" Roman was beaming, oblivious to the tension in the air. "It is good to see you outside. Would you like to spar with me?"

"No thank you, Roman." The King’s gaze barely shifted from Virgil as he spoke. "But I would be interested to observe a duel between yourself and young Virgil."

"Wonderful, come on Virgil." Roman extended a hand to help the other up and they had enough sense to not refuse this time. "That's more like it. I'll just get my practice runes on."

"No, Roman." The King held up a hand and shook his head. "I could watch a spar any time I chose. I wish to see a duel of the Furnder style."

Virgil's blood chilled in his veins at the mention of the term. He had hoped, as had Roman, that the King only wished to watch them spar with blunted weapons. Instead he wanted a duel. Bloodshed. At least Furnder style meant first to bleed loses, but the activity was not something Virgil wished to partake in with Roman.

 "Oh, a, ah, Furnder duel." Roman sounded surprisingly nervous. "I don't want- I mean, I’m sure - um…”

“Grab your straps, Prince Roman.” Virgil kept his voice level and void of emotion. “The King has made a request and we should honour it.”

“Oh, well, okay then.” All concern was gone from his voice after hearing Virgil accept the duel.

 Virgil reached into his pack, retrieving leather guards that covered the tops of his hands and wrapped around his forearms. The leather was embossed with runes Virgil had crafted; he could summon various arrow tips and shafts in an instant by allowing his soul magic to activate different runes. He slipped a leather vest on, before setting to tighten his straps and activating metal runes to strengthen his leather protections and clothes.

Roman retrieved a red sash of royal emblems and runes, equipping the seemingly loose fabric across his shoulder and lopping a thick belt around his middle. He too pulled on guards for his forearms and activated protections; the sash stiffening along with his usual uniform. 

 Fully equipped, the pair strode to the face each other in the centre of the training grounds; the King keeping a trained eye on them as they moved. The wind seemed to die out, allowing an eerie feeling to settle over the usually lively field. Virgil’s stomach twisted as he processed his situation - On one hand, he would have to fight Roman as wholeheartedly as possible, so as to not offend Roman and the King. On the other hand, should he actually cause Roman harm, the King would be sure to punish him greatly. There was no way out of the situation, only careful fighting and a hope that he could avoid both of those evils.

 “Virgil Fidencio. Prince Roman Aelin of Azmar. You have agreed to partake in a Furnder duel.” The King’s voice seemed distant to Virgil; though there was no wind to disrupt it from reaching his ear. “You shall honour the laws of Lord Furnder. The duel is over once blood is drawn from either participant; fatal blows are unnecessary but not dishonourable. Your actions are your own. All advances will cease when blood is drawn; are you both in agreeance?”

“Aye, sire.” The young men called in unison, eyes meeting; one fearful but determined, the other excited to demonstrate his skill.

“Arms at the ready!”

Virgil and Roman summoned their weapons simultaneously; the sun instantly reflecting off Roman’s sword and meeting Virgil’s eyes. Bow firmly gripped in his right-hand, Virgil felt the tips of his fingers on his left-hand tingle as he primed his soul magic to craft arrows.

“Have honour!”

Roman widened his stance, keeping his sword low and eyes fixed on his opponent. They had sparred many times with blunt weapons and were just beginning to receive missions outside of the castle walls. The young Prince was ready to prove that he was worthy, not just in age, but in skill.

“Begin!”

 Reflexes lightning fast, Virgil summoned an arrow and sent it at Roman.

“Shield up” Virgil mentally commanded.

A red shield appeared as Roman raised his right arm, knocking the arrow aside as he advanced. With a slide of his right index finger, a semi-translucent shield formed in front of Virgil’s bow. The sword met the shield with a jarring force, but Virgil held strong and pushed the sword aside.

“Guard your centre,” Virgil begged as he kicked forward.

His foot hit shield as Roman summoned it again; preparing to swing his sword back. A smile quirked Virgil’s lips as Roman instinctively braced to push him back. Using the added momentum, Virgil pushed off the shield to flip backwards and away from Roman’s sword; pulling an arrow into position the moment he was grounded.

“Be prepared for anything,” Virgil felt his wrist warm as he released one arrow and summoned another with a burning tip; taking backwards steps on the diagonal to keep his distance from Roman.

The arrows struck Roman’s shield, the fire arrow making an explosion on impact that caused his vision to blur. Regardless, Roman exchanged his sword for a throwing knife and charged forward. Even with his sight impeded, Virgil still had to summon his shield to protect himself as Roman hurled the knife towards him. As the prince re-summoned his sword, Virgil thought he saw his out.

 Dropping his shield, Virgil pulled another arrow as Roman quickly closed the gap between them.

“Shield up.”

His fingers moved naturally to release the arrow just as Virgil’s keen eyes noted Roman’s relaxed guard arm. In a split-second reaction, he formed and released additional arrows in an attempt to divert or destroy the first.

Roman’s mind was tunnel focused as his sword crossed his body in preparation to swing at Virgil. By the time his eyes focused, two arrows collided in front of his face in a cloud of smoke and he swung blindly into the space before him. The smoke concealed them from the King’s watchful eye, and the boys were trapped in grey darkness.

A feeling of smooth resistance was enough for Roman to recognise that his blade had struck true. Activating a whirlwind rune, he quickly cleared the smoke to find Virgil crouching while aiming a freshly strung arrow at him; blood oozing from a deep gash on his left arm.

 Clapping had Roman’s chest exploding with pride.

“What a brilliant display, Roman.”

Roman beamed down at Virgil at the King’s words; retracting his sword and deactivating his runes. Virgil did the same before lowering his head in shame, unable to reciprocate Roman’s euphoria as his eyes caught the fine trail of blood that ran down his right cheek.

“There is no shame in losing, Virgil.” Roman assured, still oblivious to his injury from sheer adrenaline. “It was a fine duel, wasn’t it, Father?”

Any evidence of a smile was immediately removed from the King’s face as Roman turned towards him.

“Your face was scathed.” Virgil felt the King’s presence, despite never raising his head.

Roman reached up with cautious fingers, suddenly aware of the sting as his fingers traced the cut up his cheek and to his ear.

“Huh, you managed to strike me, Virgil,” the sound of Roman’s laugh only had Virgil feeling twice as terrified for his future. “I’m impressed. Though this makes it difficult to determine the true champion. Would it be fair to call us even, Father?”

“Go see the physician, Roman,” was the King’s blunt reply, and Virgil felt the bile rising in the back of his throat as royal boots stepped into his peripheral vision.

“Father, it is just a scratch and Virgil-“

“The physician, Roman. I wish to speak with Virgil in private.”

“But he’s -“

“I’m fine,” Roman looked down to meet Virgil’s deep brown eyes. “Prince Roman. Go see to your health.”

 Virgil hated having to speak so formally to his friend, but it was required in the King’s presence. Even as children, Virgil was always expected to treat Roman in a more formal manner, despite the Queen’s kind words that the boys were equals. Watching Roman walk away now, more than anything in the world, Virgil wished the Queen’s words were true. As soon as Roman was out of view, Virgil again lowered his head and kneeled before the unkind King.

**********************

End Note:

Thank you for reading and I really hoped you enjoyed it. Please don’t hesitate to pass on any feedback or questions you have about the story. Thanks again to my lovely Tag Support Team. You are the reason I decided to writing this story.

Side Note: updates will come as I am able. I work full time and have one other WIP. I will try and balance my updates between both...unless there is more interest in one over the other. 

💜🐌 Snail

**********************

Chapter 2   — Masterlist 

What else have I done:

The Perfect Ring (oneshot - analogical proposal)

You Promised (oneshot - prinxiety angst/injury/near death)

Sides of a Hero (Completed Fic - sides are fusions of impulses and aspects of Thomas. Virgil has a depressing past that he is forced to face thanks to Deceit and Rage. Was canon compliant at the time of completion)

Libraries are for Meetings (ongoing WIP - Human/University au with Royality and developing Analogical. Slow burn and heavily focused on a grieving group of friends that Virgil slowly becomes a part of to better himself.) 

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles​

[tenpin-boleyn]

Boleyn x Parr Part 2

Hi yeah it’s me again. This is probably the worst thing I have ever written, but at this point in my life I’m too tired to care :) I mentally drained myself trying to put myself into Annes shoes oops and now I feel nothing 😂

So before I get attacked for anything in this piece, please know that most of the words aren’t exclusively mine. My friend actually ended up in this situation at age 14, and now she has the most adorable baby in the entire world I’m jealous af, and I asked for her help to try and see what Anne would think! So all of these thoughts Anne has are based on what my friend said, so this is as realistic as I could muster! Teen pregnancy isn’t a joke and is a real thing that happens, and it isn’t anybody’s right to discriminate or to judge and I just wanted to get this out of the way before I started! :)

Warnings: Teen Pregnancy, Abortion, Swearing. I think that’s it but please message or reply if there’s any you want added! :)

Also I gave up because I was so tired towards the end and decided to post this anyway. Oops please don’t hate me I’m tired :) I might continue this. I might not :)

—————————————

“Are you okay in there?” Cathy asked from outside the bathroom door. After taking Anne to bed, making sure she had her stuffed dog beside her, Parr had snuck away to the corner shop and bought a cheap pregnancy test for Anne; earning a rather dirty look from the old lady at the till. She was glad Anne wasn’t with her, if the lady had given that look to Anne, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. As soon as she returned Anne was waiting on the stairs, stuffed toy in hand, like a child who had just had a nightmare but was too scared to find their parents, and the look on her face showed Cathy that she knew exactly what was in her bag.

“Yeah. It’s just taking a long time-“ Anne whispered. She was torn between opening the door and letting Cathy see before her, and keeping it locked so she was free to climb out of the window if it turned out to be positive. Long after the test had shown its results, still unseen to Anne, she let Cathy in- thrusting the stick on her. Parr stole a look at Anne before glancing down at the piece of papery plastic that could and would change Anne’s life forever. “It’s positive.”

The thought had been playing on her mind for at least a week, but to hear it out loud set it in stone. She suddenly lost connection to the world, she didn’t feel her body slam to the floor, she couldn’t hear Cathy yelling her name, and she couldn’t hear herself sobbing into the towel she discarded that morning. The first time she fell pregnant she was over the moon, she had a child to share her love with- and if I made Henry love her then that was just an added bonus. The first time she felt Elizabeth in her arms she couldn’t help but feel her world being completed. Her big blue eyes staring at her, and the little tuffs of red hair made Anne instantly fall in love with her. But what Anne realised now, was that her baby killed her. She didn’t blame Elizabeth for anything, she would give her life for Lizzie in a heartbeat, but she knew that the baby killed her. And even in this life she knew the baby would kill her; there was no Henry, but there was the problem of her body and society and her education. Anne was barely 16, she still cursed the world with every cramp she felt each month- she couldn’t push a baby out of her. And god knows what she would say to everyone but she knew what they would think. “Poor pathetic Anne, ruining her life so early on. What a shame. She had so much potential.” She couldn’t do that to herself.

Catherine was in a panic, she was fearful that Anne had somehow got a concussion when she fell. And it didn’t help that she wasn’t responding to her voice or her touch. “Annie please say something!”

What Catherine didn’t expect was annes abrupt response. “Where the fuck is the gin” Catherine let out a sigh of relief, she wasn’t happy about Anne’s instant response to any problem in her life being alcohol, but at least she knew that Anne was herself. “Why? Remember the last time you got drunk?” Parr instantly regretted her words. Her girlfriend was pregnant with a baby she didn’t want, from a guy she didn’t want and she didn’t even remember it happening. How could she be so stupid?

“I read in a book that it gets rid of it...” the girl whispered, looking 5 years younger, sat against the bath still clenching the dog. It didn’t seem possible to the pair, but their hearts broke again, Cathy’s was broken from wishing with all of her might that she could take her pain away. And Anne’s for obvious reasons.

“Anne Millicent Boleyn you listen to me right now. We are going to go sit in your bed, I’m going to get you a glass of water and we are going to discuss every option there is. If you want to get rid of this baby, we’re going to do it safely, and if you want to keep it, then we will figure out a plan to tell the others and a plan of what we need to sort out okay?” At this Anne snapped awake, sulking and moving around wouldn’t solve her issues, she would have to deal with this at some point, and knowing her girlfriend it would be as soon as possible. And Catherine followed through on her word. She tucked Anne into the duvet, went to get her a glass of water and came back with her laptop.

“Right. Drink this whenever you feel like you are going to be sick or just feel unwell, because I’m not stopping until we’ve sorted this out okay?” Catherine’s wise eyes smiled down upon Anne, in the way that made Anne fall in love with her from the start and she couldn’t help but feel safe, tucked into bed with her- no matter the situation. “Okay.”

Anne watched as Catherine typed furiously into the laptop, as much as Anne hated emotions, she couldn’t help but feel so much love and she couldn’t believe that she was being so supportive of her... “okay so the NHS says that your options are:

* continuing with the pregnancy and keeping the baby

* having an abortion

* continuing with the pregnancy and having the baby adopted.

If you decide to continue your pregnancy, the next step is to start your antenatal care.”

“What the actual fuck does that mean.”

“Hold on. Oh it’s just the care you get when you’re pregnant.” Anne took a sip of water at this. It was all feeling so real now, and it scared her. Lots. “What are your immediate thoughts? I mean if you keep the baby, you’ve got a loving household of queens who will happily jump at the chance to cuddle and care for a baby, or you could go through with this and give it up after it’s born or I could take you to a clinic and we’ll never speak about this again.” Catherine felt like she was being too blunt, but in all honestly she was as scared as Anne. She didn’t know the slightest thing about pregnancy or anything, but she was trying to stay professional, for her baby girl. “I’ll have to keep it.” Anne blurted our, faster than Henry could say “off with her head!”

“What makes you say that?”

“I can’t take the chance of being a mother away from the queens. Catherine, Jane and Anna all had their children taken from them and now I’ve got the chance to have a child, it feels wrong to take it from them. If they ever found out, they’d be heartbroken.” Catherine pulled Anne in closer, holding her as tight as she could manage. “As sweet and as kind as that may be, this isn’t their baby. It’s yours, and you’ll be the one looking after it. If you decide to keep it, it’s going to have to be for you. You need to want this child for yourself. Not for anyone else. Put yourself first babe. I will support you all the way if you want to have this baby, but only if you want it.” Anne looked up at Parr, the fear evident in her eyes, opening her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Cathy. “And if you’re worried about them finding out, I won’t tell a soul, but we need to hide this stick before the queens get back if you chose that option.”

Anne sat silently, contemplating one small decision that would alter her entire life. Instead of verbally replying to Parr, she stole the laptop from her and began to scroll down, reading more on the options. They both sat like this for a while, before Anne was certain. As much as she had loved Lizzie, she couldn’t bear to have another child at this point in her life. It just seemed so wrong to her. “Cathy, I don’t want to keep it.” To this Anne snuggled into the older girl even more, and Parr just stroked her hair, hoping that this was Anne making the decision and that she was certain about what she was doing.

—————————————

“Boleyn, Anne?” A woman cried out into the busy waiting room. The room was busier than Anne had hoped, but all of the chatter seemed to take her mind off of life, so she didn’t mind. Anne stood up, clenching Cath’s hand as she did. As she reached the woman she managed to muster up as many words as she was able. “Can my girlfriend come too?” The voice was weak and totally out of character for Anne, not so much recently but generally. “Of course she can.” The woman smiled. She was in her early 40s and was already starting to Grey, but Anne thought that it made her look kinder- if that was even a thing- but alas it helped to calm herself, she wasn’t going to question it. The lady led the pair down the hallway and into room 2, inviting them to sit next to her desk. “So Miss Anne Boleyn, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re here for a medically induced abortion, correct?”

“Yes.” Cathy squeezed Annes hand, hoping that it would give some comfort to her girlfriend.

“Okay perfect. Before we start any procedures or any tests etc, I’m going to have to speak to you alone for a few minutes if that’s okay? It’s just to run through the risks, and your reasons for termination. It’s just a routine test we do to make sure you’re doing the best thing for yourself.”

Parr smiled at Anne again, giving her a comforting nod that told her that she would be right outside and she wasn’t going anywhere.

————————————

The chat was taking longer than Catherine had expected, but then again she had been researching abortions in adults. Perhaps there were more questions to ask for a teenager, Parr told herself. And before she had even realised, she was pacing the floor anxiously. Parr knew this procedure and interview inside and out, she had spent nights looking everything up, making sure it was safe, and that Anne would be okay; but she couldn’t help but feel nervous. She knew all of the queens had emotional scars, and physical scars as the cousins liked to point out every chance they had, so adding a terminated pregnancy to annes long list of issues didn’t strike Parr as comforting. Anne pretended to be strong; she was the witty one, the feisty one. But under all of that, she hid her pain with jokes and midnight tears and fits of rage where she would smash up her room and just sit in the mess crying at what she had done. Catherine tried her best, but there was only so far hugs and facts about bugs could go. To be fair the facts about bugs inspired Annes pranks on Aragon, but that’s beside the point.

“Uh Catherine, you can come back in now.” The woman popped her neck around the door and smiled. Catherine smelt Annes familiar scent of cinnamon pancakes and a hint of cleaning fluids- coming from the very large hand sanitiser bottles- as she retook her position next to Anne. “Ready babe?”

“No but fuck it”

————————————

“Catherine, Anne. Nice to see you on this fine day.” Before the girls had even walked through the door, Jane was standing waiting for them, Katherine peering out from a door behind her. Cath didn’t know what to do, on one hand Anne seemed to be fine, but at the same time she knew that although Anne had taken the pill option, it was still a mental toll on her. “I’ve had the headteacher on the phone for an hour screaming about how 2 of her students had snuck out of school and caused a lock down on campus. Care to explain?” Jane tilted her head at the pair and looked furious. Anne was, as suspected, mentally exhausted and wasn’t taking anyone’s shit, especially the woman who had taken her man the day after she was beheaded. “What the fuck is it to you, you’re not my mum?” Catherine looked defeated, of course Anne would say something like this. “What she means to say is-“

“Nah I meant it. Now if you don’t mind im going to my room so bog off!”

With Anne half way up the stairs, still wearing her Heelys, Jane looked at Catherine with a look that said “if you don’t tell me what’s going on I’ll hide your library card.” “Anne was having a bit of trouble and I thought that she should have the day off. It’s my fault entirely- please don’t blame her.”

[sshbpodcast]

Tales from the Holodeck: TNG Fanfic: Jake’s Story

A Star to Steer Her By is closing the book on Star Trek: The Next Generation with our much anticipated fanfic series “Tales from the Holodeck”! With our random draws for our special guest characters in hand, we’ve written new adventures for the crew of the Enterprise-D for you to enjoy! Listen to the whole episode here, or read on below for Jake’s story!

[images © Paramount/CBS]

“Thank Hugh”

By Jake

Random picks: Juliana Tainer, Hugh

Prologue

Captains Log, Stardate 48325.6. The Enterprise has entered drydock to undergo a routine refit. We have been joined by a contingent of former Borg Drones led by Hugh who will advise on upgrades to our defensive systems. The refit has afforded many of the crew some much-needed down time, while one member of the senior staff has disembarked to attend to a pressing matter of a personal nature.

“Thank you for coming on so quickly, I really didn’t know who else to contact.” Dr. Pran Tainer’s face was grave, perhaps apprehensive, and clearly expressing discomfort. The nuances of humanoid facial expressions remained elusive to Data, even after all his years in Starfleet. Dr. Tainer gestured down the hallway. “I’m hoping you may be able to answer some questions we have.”

“Certainly,” Data dutifully responded as the pair proceeded through the corridor.

“Tell me, Data: when did you become aware that your mother was an android?” Data paused in-stride. He had not expected this question. The message he had received only indicated that Juliana Tainer was ill, but did not suggest that her true nature as a Soong-type android had been revealed. He pondered the question.

“Juliana was injured in a fall during our mission here last year. It was at that time that I learned.”

Dr. Tainer’s expression had changed, and this time there was no ambiguity; he was angry. “And you didn’t feel it was necessary to inform her husband of this fact?” Data thought for a moment. The decision to keep his mother’s nature a secret from her and Dr. Tainer was done thoughtfully, and at the time had seemed to be in the best interest of everyone involved. Perhaps, Data considered, that was a miscalculation. Before he could conjure a response, Dr. Tainer continued, “It’s no matter. The secret’s out now.” The doctor proceeded along the hallway, and Data followed, “It’s a shame. If we’d known sooner, it’s possible we may have been able to do more for her. And now...”

Data interjectected, “Sir, could you tell me what has happened?”

“See for yourself.” Dr. Tainer stopped and pressed a keypad on the wall, opening a door. Beyond was a small, well-lit room. Modestly furnished with a bed, a small dresser and vanity, and a chair in which sat Juliana Tainer. As Data stepped in he noticed that she seemed to be staring vacantly, her shoulders slumped, her jaw slack. 

“Has she been deactivated?” Data asked. 

“The doctors didn’t know what to do. She was confused and erratic. At first I feared it was some form of dementia, but when they attempted to perform a neurological scan they discovered… what she was. It was then that she just... turned off.” 

“She is programmed to shut down if she discovers that she is an android.” Commander Data leaned closer to examine his mother. “She appears undamaged. Curious what could have triggered the failsafe subroutine.”

“Curious indeed,” grumbled Dr. Tainer. The Atrean let out a deep sigh. “Look commander, whether she’s an android or not, she’s still my wife. If there’s anyone who could do something for her, it would be you.”

“I will try, Doctor.” Data reached his arm around to the back of his mother’s neck. In an instant, she awoke. At first she appeared frightened and confused, her eyes scanning the room wildly, but when her gaze met Data’s she calmed immediately and a smile crept across her lips. “Data,” she said, warmly.

Data turned the corners of his mouth up by eleven degrees, an angle he had determined would suggest a calm and loving recognition. “It is good to see you, Mother.”

“Did you send a message that you were coming? If I’d known you were visiting I would have-”

Dr. Tainer excitedly stepped forward, shoving past Data, “Juliana! You’re awake!”

“Pran, what’s going on? Going on?” Suddenly, her neck twisted rapidly to the left. “Going on. Going On. On.” She jerked her neck several more times, then froze. 

“What happened?” the mortified Dr. Tainer asked.

Data had observed similar behavior once before in a Soong-type android. “Her failsafe engaged again. Doctor Tainer, I am afraid the facilities on Atrea will be insufficient to diagnose the cause of the malfunction.”

“Malfunction…” muttered Dr. Tainer.

“I must return with Juliana to my laboratory on the Enterprise.”

A sullen disposition overcame Pran Tainer. “Of course… Data… I know you’ll do everything possible for her.”

Data nodded.

Scene 1

“Impossible!” scoffed Lieutenant Worf. 

The Borg opposite him replied dryly, “I assure you, Mister Worf, with these modifications, explosive yield will be considerably increased. Our estimates suggest that an improvement of up to twenty-three per cent is possible.”

“Your estimates…” Worf muttered, dismissively.

“Worf, just let him try it,” Geordi La Forge pleaded, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Commander, when we agreed to allow these… Borg… access to our tactical systems, it was with the understanding that they would serve an advisory role-”

“And they will,” Commander La Forge had learned that a gentle reassurance tended to work best when dealing with an angry Klingon. “The Captain has ordered that any modifications recommended by the former Borg will be thoroughly reviewed by the senior staff before being implemented.”

Worf grunted in what could only be an acknowledgement and walked away. Hugh watched him as he left engineering. “Geordi, I believe the Lieutenant is angry with me.”

“It’s nothing personal, Hugh. Worf is just a little… uneasy with anyone going near the tactical systems. But he’ll come around. He just needs to learn to trust you as I have. Now, let’s see what we can do with the rotating shield-” 

“Bridge to La Forge,” the voice of Commander Riker cut in. 

Geordi pressed his comm badge, “Go ahead, Commander.”

“We just received word that Data’s shuttle will be arriving momentarily and he’s requested that you meet him in his lab.”

“Acknowledged.” Geordi tapped his badge again to end the call. “Hugh, the shield modifications can wait.”

Scene 2

There was no doubting what had caused the malfunction. Data had seen it before. The positronic brain is a remarkable feat of engineering, but ever so complex, and ever so fragile. It only takes one pathway among billions to destabilize, and by then it is too late. Surrounding pathways attempt to compensate, and become unstable themselves. The failures spread across the neural network like a fire consuming a forest.

It was only her failsafe program which managed to stave off the inevitable, but once reactivated the cascade would continue at an ever-accelerating rate. Data couldn’t be sure how long she would survive, let alone be lucid. 

“I’m sorry, Data,” Geordi lamented, reading the scans, “These are practically identical to the readings we got from Lal.”

“I am aware, Geordi. Were it not for her failsafe program, I believe her neural net would have already experienced total failure.” Geordi was certain he could hear a twinge of sadness in the android’s voice. “I would like you to help me establish a neural link so that I can transfer her memory engrams to mine.”

“Of course, Data. Would you like to activate her one last time? To say goodbye?”

Data considered it for a moment. He had observed in humanoid cultures the practice of “saying goodbye” to a loved-one. He, himself, had once reactivated his daughter Lal for the purpose, but Lal had known that she was an android... “If I reactivate her now, in this environment, she may realize that she is an android. It had been my Father’s wish that she be able ‘live out her days’ without knowing of her true nature.”

Geordi hadn’t considered that, “What if we took her somewhere else? We could configure the holodeck to resemble her home on Atrea.”

The thought had not occurred to Data, but the idea seemed to trigger an unusual response in Data’s subconscious programming.  “That may be acceptable.” 

Scene 3 

The program was a near-perfect recreation of an Atrean villa. The sun shone brightly through twin skylights illuminating a rustic sitting room. Juliana Tainer lay on a lavish day-bed, with her only surviving son seated beside her in a modest wooden chair. Data reached over and depressed her activation switch. Her eyes opened, peacefully.

Scanning the room briefly, her eyes connected with Data’s. Her lips formed a smile, as they had in the hospital on Atrea.

“Noonien, “ she said, calmly. 

“No, mother, I am Data.”

“Of course, son. I just had a wonderful dream that we were all back on Omicron, and you and your brother were- Oh, look at me, going on about dreams. Why are you here, on Atrea?”

“Doctor Tainer contacted me.”

“Pran contacted you? Whatever for?”

“He told me that you were feeling unwell.” Data hadn’t considered how this conversation would go.

“Oh, that’s nonsense,” Juliana let out a slight chuckle, “Pran worries about me too much. I’m fine. Tell me about you. What adventures have you been on since I last saw you?”

“Mother, I am afraid I do have much time.” Data again experienced an unusual response, he made a note to conduct a level two diagnostic of his physio-response subroutines.

“Why, where do you have to be? To be?” As it had in the hospital, her head darted swiftly to the left, then the right. “You must help him, Data. Help him, Data.” Her speech took on an unnatural cadence, no longer the comforting tone Data was accustomed to. He wondered if reactivating her had been a mistake. Juliana appeared confused and frightened.

“Help him, Data,” she repeated. 

“Help whom?” Data asked, unsure if she was lucid enough to know.

“Help, Noonien.” Data thought for a moment. Perhaps in her delirium she saw him as his father. “You must help. before it’s too late. Too late.”

“Mother, Doctor Soong is not here. I am Data.” She reached up and grasped Data’s arm, squeezing it tightly. Tighter than her programming should have allowed. She locked eyes with him. Her grasp continued to tighten. Data could detect stress vibrations in the servos in her fingers, and was concerned that they would be damaged if she continued. With his free hand, he reached behind her neck and depressed the switch to deactivate her, but her grasp persisted. The cascade had progressed faster than he expected. He pressed his Comm Badge.

“Data to transporter room three. Emergency site-to-site transport.”

Scene 4

Hugh stood in the back of the lab as Geordi and Data worked feverishly to set up the neural link. It had been in this room that the Borg first awoke, where he received his real name, and where he made his first friends. In many ways, Hugh mused, this was the room in which he became who he was. As he gazed at the panicked expression on the woman’s face, he recalled his own anxiety and confusion during those fledgling moments of individuality.

“Data, the pathways are collapsing too quickly,” Geordi’s voice was somehow both calming and apprehensive, “I can’t activate new connections fast enough.”

“Attempting to compensate.” Data’s eyes darted back and forth as he raced to establish the neural link. The lights in the optical cable strung between the androids blinked ever faster as each new connection caused another to fail. While Data appeared focused, the look on Geordi’s face betrayed the severity of the situation. 

Hugh stepped closer, “Geordi.”

“Not now, Hugh,” Geordi snapped. Hugh hadn’t expected the reaction, but he persisted.

“Geordi. I can help.”

Geordi paused for a moment and looked at Hugh. Realizing Geordi was no longer manipulating the connections, Data glanced in his direction, “Commander?”

“Wait, Data.” Geordi set down his opto-coupler and stepped back from Juliana, “I think he may be able to help. I trust him.”

Data removed the neural link cable as the Borg approached Juliana. Hugh raised his augmented arm up towards her chin. For a moment he locked eyes with the ailing woman, and he could sense fear from her. It was a fear he was all too familiar with, a fear he had seen hundreds of millions of times in the collective, a fear he had hoped to never see again. 

Two tubes emerged from Hugh’s wrist and contacted Juliana’s neck. Reacting as if by instinct, Data reached over and pulled the Borg away, but it was too late. Juliana’s eyes shut, and her shoulders slumped. Confused, Hugh stared at Data, unsure what he had done wrong. For a moment, all was still.

Suddenly, one of the panels began to chirp, and new data began to roll across the screen. Geordi looked at it, “Hang on Data, something’s happening.”

Data released Hugh and went to the panel. “The neural pathways are reestablishing on their own. It appears as though the Borg nanoprobes are repairing the damaged positronic connections.”

“Data?” The voice was that of Juliana Tainer. 

“Mother.” Data was yet again unable to identify the errant sensation.

“Data. I know... what I am. What your father did for me. What you did for me.” She turned to face Hugh, “And also what you did for me...”

“I am Hugh. Data is my friend.”

Epilogue

Captains log, supplemental. The Borg tactical upgrades have been completed. Hugh and the other Borg have disembarked for their home colony. Data informs me that his mother is expected to make a complete recovery, and will experience no negative effects from the Borg Nanoprobes. 

Data glanced up from his canvas and observed his mother. Her hand manipulated the brush rapidly, no longer encumbered by the restrictive programming his father had placed on her to appear more human. “May I see, mother?”

“Not just yet, Data. I’m nearly done.” Juliana went again to her palette, and briskly mixed a muddy gray color. Data considered his own painting, a landscape in the style of the second Bolian renaissance painter, Di’Rak. He was planning to present the painting to the Enterprise's barber at his birthday celebration next week, but felt there was still some work to be done on the shading.

“Ok, come have a look,” Juliana announced, smiling. Data rose and stood behind his mother. The painting was quite good, Data thought, if perhaps a bit lacking in technique. “It’s a family portrait.” 

Depicted was a woman resembling Juliana Tainer; an older gentleman Data recognized as Noonien Soong; two twin androids, arms over each other’s shoulders, one devilishly grinning, and the other tussling the hair of the figure beside him: a pale young boy, dressed in all black, smiling up at his big brother.

Again Data observed an anomalous sensation. He made a note to upgrade that diagnostic to level one.

—

We’re moving on to new Star Trek and Star Trek–related series we’re sure you’ll enjoy, so be sure to keep listening on SoundCloud, follow us on Facebook and Twitter, and upgrade your diagnostics to level one.

[thatsecondsalemboy-a]

five times cried (implicatedbyprophecy- bc i love the angst)

Send “Five Times ______ed” for a Drabble of 5 different times our characters… did that.  - Five Times Cried

1)

Leta is seven years old when Corvus is born. She’s not really told much about what’s going on, only that her stepmother (who she doesn’t really know, if truth be told) is having a baby, and that her father is hoping for a boy. She doesn’t understand why. She’s ushered in when the baby is born ( a boy, like father wanted, but he’s early and small and a little frail, and these are apparently bad things) and catches a brief glimpse of him, but it’s not until a few weeks later that she properly meets her baby brother.

Her bedroom is just across the hall from the nursery, so she hears the cries easily one night, just after she’s gone to bed. They’re soft, almost pitiful, and she finds herself pulling on her slippers to pad across the hall and into the nursery. Corvus is crying in the crib, a shock of dark hair already adorning his head, little face screwed up. She doesn’t really know what to do with babies, so she sits by the crib, reaching one small hand through the slats to take her little brothers, lightly rubbing a thumb over the tiny fist.

Corvus stops crying.

Leta stays there all night.

2)

It’s the night before she goes to Hogwarts, and Leta can’t help but feel a wild mash of excitement and worry. The excitement because she’s finally getting to go off to school, and she’s going to learn how to properly do magic and meet lots of other people and not just the occasional child of another rich pureblood family. The worry because leaving for school means leaving Corvus, and it almost makes her feel guilty, even though it shouldn’t. But Corvus is only four, and once she gets on that train, he’s going to be more or less alone until Christmas, save for the house elves and the seldom there nanny that their father had reluctantly hired. What if he hurts himself? What if doesn’t get enough to eat? What if he had more cases of accidental magic and something happened (he’d had several, which Leta thought might be quite early, but thankfully they’d all been harmless and easily dealt with)?

She can’t bear the thought of him shut up all alone in the draughty old manor house, and tears trickle down her cheeks. When she hears the door creak, she rubs her eyes, turning to see her little brother standing in the doorway, the little stuffed dragon she’d gotten him for his birthday hanging from one fist. All it takes is a light jerk of her head and he darts across the room, clambering up on to the bed beside her and worming her way so he’s cuddled up beside her. He also notices her tears though, a tiny frown working across his little face.

“Sad?” he asks. He’s going through a phase lately where he seems to aim to say as little as possible, and she’s one of the few who can interpret it most of the time. Their father doesn’t even try. She gives a short nod, wrapping an arm around him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she whispers, in case Corvus Lestrange IV is still awake and wandering the corridors. Her baby brother doesn’t quite understand. Of course he doesn’t, he’s still only little and doesn’t realise that they’re going to be parted just yet. But in his childish innocence he plants a slightly sloppy kiss on her cheek before holding the little dragon out, “You take Scaly?”

The offer causes fresh tears and she hugs him close. She ends up bringing the little stuffed dragon with her too, and it takes pride of place in her belongings.

3)

She can’t help but feel a little out of place here. Of course, Clarisse had been her step mother, but she couldn’t really say that she knew the woman, other than that ever since Corvus had been born, she had seemed to catch one illness after another, her body frail, and as such she rarely left her bedroom. She had been a kindly enough woman, she supposes, but there wasn’t really enough of a relationship there for her to grieve too much when, a few days after she comes home for the Christmas break in her second year, the woman passes away.

Her little brother, however, is devastated. She’s his mother, after all, and Leta knows that even with her illnesses, Corvus had spent quite a lot of time curled up beside his mother, listening to her tell stories, or even just getting an occasional cuddle. It wasn’t as if their father was the type for affection. So naturally, Corvus is upset. He’s six, and he’s shot up a little over the few months she’s been at school, but he still has the same almost frail frame.

It’s the funeral, and she can see the tears streaming down his face that he keeps rubbing with the sleeve of his robes, trying not to make a scene. Their father keeps shooting him silent glares, and Leta wants to reach across to comfort her little brother, but she doesn’t even need to look at her father to know that would not be a wise decision.

When they get back to the manor later, Corvus races off up the stairs two at a time, and she can hear the bedroom door slam from the entranceway. Slowly she follows, knocking softly on the bedroom door before slipping in, padding over to the bed where her brother’s face is buried in his pillow, thin shoulders shaking. He’s trying to be stubborn, but it takes little effort to pick him and pull him into her lap, letting him cry into her shoulder.

Not for the first time, she wishes she could spare him pain.

4)

She’s at work when she receives the owl, and as her eyes scan over the details of the letter, her knees nearly give out, and it’s only Theseus that stops her from dropping entirely, her heart in her mouth as she reads and rereads the words, as if that might change what’s actually happening.

She needs to get home.

It’s Corvus. He’s in his last year now at Hogwarts, a top student, prefect and everything, and she couldn’t be prouder of that. Except now, the letter tells her, Corvus has collapsed in transfiguration class, having complained of feeling unwell and intending to go to the hospital wing. He’s been immediately sent home, under a quarantine.

Dragon pox. A serious case.

Frankly, she doesn’t give a damn about the quarantine. She’d had a mild case as a child, so all she cares about right now is seeing her brother. It’s the fastest she’s ever gotten home, getting through all the wards on the manor with a speed never before seen and up the stairs. She pauses in the doorway though, hand clapped over her mouth.

Corvus looks terrible, his skin tinged a horrible clash between a faint green and an ashen grey, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clearly visible on his forehead. Even from her she can see his eyes twitching behind closed lid, and it’s clear to her that he’s in pain. So she does all she can think of to do, crosses the room towards him and takes the damp cloth from a healer, gently wiping at his brow and squeezing his hand lightly, not giving a damn about contagion. She’ll take off work, she certainly has enough holiday saved up. Right now, her brother is her priority.

For a while, it seems like his case might be looking up, but then one night, everything takes a turn for the worse. His fever rages, climbing higher and higher, and now he’s audibly making noises of pain, thrashing and convulsing slightly in the bed, to the point where they’ve had to restrain him in case he does himself any harm. They can only wait and hope that his fever will break. And Leta sits with him, clutching his hand tightly to her and making quiet pleas to no one in particular that they will spare her brother. Tears roll thick and fast down her face, desperation overtaking, and at some point, without meaning to, she falls asleep.

His fever breaks.

5)

This isn’t supposed to happen.

The last time, they had said it was the last. The Great War, the war to end all wars. There shouldn’t be another war. Not another period of time when the whole country is on edge, both magical and muggle, saying goodbye to members of family, unsure on when a reunion may be possible, the fear that permeates through every household.

Theseus is spared this time, on account of an injury sustained while on an auror mission. Newt is…somewhere, but he’s doing something with creatures, and as much as she worries, she knows that Newt can look after himself more than most people would believe.

But her baby brother.

And really, he’s not a baby anymore. They’re both full grown adults now, and she has a family of her own. He doesn’t. He’s never really settled with anyone in particular, and especially since their father had died a few years back, he no longer had any pressure on him to do so. He was content to just work, and if he found someone he liked…well that would be an added benefit, wouldn’t it?

Except now there is another war, and this time, she has to say goodbye to her brother as he goes off to fight. He’s a far cry from the tiny little baby in the crib, or the little boy who would clamber in beside her after a nightmare. Even from the occasionally moody teen who had sometimes taken to skulking in the family manor. No, he was a man now, still the same lean frame, but with a maturity in his eyes.

And she wraps her arms around his chest and sobs. It won’t change anything. He still has to go and take an international floo to France, no matter how much she sobs. But she takes this moment for what she can, and he holds her just as tight, his own tears damp in her hair, but she doesn’t care. She wants this moment to just go on forever. She doesn’t want things to go this way.

Still, after several minutes, they eventually pull apart, red eyed and shaky, but not at all embarrassed of their own behaviour. He’ll write her as often as he can, he promises, so much she’ll be annoyed. She doesn’t chastise the exaggeration, just smiles and nod, sniffles a little. And as he moves off to get on the train, he looks back, and she gets a brief flash of memory, a younger Corvus getting on the Hogwarts express, flushed face and excited expression. There’s no excitement this time, only anticipation and their own tears.

He keeps his promise, and he does write, as often as he can manage it.

Until he doesn’t. 

Until the official looking letter is dropped in her lap, and she knows what it is before she even opens it, and Theseus holds her as she weeps, as she screams and shouts at the injustice of it all.

His last letter she reads over and over, but there is no sign of what is to come, of course. Divination is not especially provident in their family after all, how could he have known? 

Tracing a hand over the familiar signature….she can only hope it was quick.

@implicatedbyprophecy

[aion-rsa]

Fear the Walking Dead Season 6 Episode 14 Review: Mother

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This Fear the Walking Dead review contains spoilers. 

Fear the Walking Dead Season 6 Episode 14

After being sidelined for most of the season, Fear the Walking Dead finally throws one of its best characters into the fray. I’m talking about Alicia, of course, who hasn’t gotten nearly enough screen time lately. So it’s interesting (and refreshing) that “Mother” should lean so heavily into what it means to be Madison Clark’s daughter. The episode continues season 6’s trend of unexpected reunions, and this one certainly doesn’t disappoint. But more on that chance encounter in a bit.

In the meantime, let’s talk about Teddy Maddox (John Glover). We already knew he was a bit unhinged, what with being a cult leader and embalming dissenters and wanting to usher in a nuclear Armageddon. Taken individually, any one of those things is a red flag, to be sure. Taken together, though, and you have a dangerous lunatic who makes the likes of recent antagonists like Virginia, Logan, and Martha seem like dilettantes by comparison. Which is a good thing, really. While the undead have become more of an existential threat to our heroes, the living always prove to be the biggest and most immediate threat to survival. Remember Jeremiah and Troy Otto from season 3? They were good villains! What made them so dangerous was that they mistakenly believed they had the moral high ground. 

Teddy is no different. Like the Ottos, he truly believes that humans are nothing more than bottom-feeders who deserve to be wiped out. While his views are a bit extreme, what transpires in “Mother” certainly seems to bear out this grim hypothesis. Indeed, this episode offers compelling insights into Teddy’s convoluted thought process. He sums it all up when he tells Alicia, “I could preserve everything I loved, and destroy everything I didn’t.” This black-and-white worldview is calcified after he murders someone, and marvels at the flowers growing over her backyard grave. That and 30 years on death row gave him plenty of time to reinforce his twisted beliefs. When the world ended, his second chance began in earnest. Now this wasteland prophet finally has the means to bring his vision to full fruition. To do that, he needs Alicia’s help.

All the way back in season 3, in my review of “Brother’s Keeper,” I suggested that Fear could possibly benefit from killing off Alicia. This was back when the entire Clark family was still alive and seemingly unkillable. Three seasons later, though, Alicia is the last Clark standing. To lose her now would cut Fear off from an important part of its history. Whether you like them or hate them, for better or worse, this Walking Dead spin-off was built upon the Clark family’s misadventures during the earliest days of the zombie apocalypse. Were they always role models? Definitely not. But week after week, their flaws made for more compelling drama. And as we know, over the years, Alicia has tried more than once to leave all the bloodshed behind. Unfortunately for her, Alicia is usually at her best when she’s forced to do her worst. And “Mother” is certainly no exception.

Tapped by Teddy to run a special errand (with new cult recruit Dakota tagging along for good measure), Alicia unwittingly becomes part of a grand thought experiment. It should be said that Alycia Debnam-Carey delivers a great performance, as does Glover. They prove to be excellent foils for one another, playing two sides of the same coin. Throwing them together provides plenty of friction as Teddy continues to woo her to his way of thinking. And if that means revisiting the ghosts of the past, so be it. For Alicia, that means confronting her mother’s legacy.

For Teddy, though, that means liberating his mother’s corpse from its crypt.

It’s amazing that this scene can be so unsettling, given how the Walking Dead universe has spent nearly eleven years “normalizing” reanimated corpses. Maybe it’s because Teddy is obviously unwell. Or maybe it’s because he cherishes his mother’s corpse, rather than fearing it. In this world, any interactions with the dead are assiduously avoided. (That this turns out to be a random corpse is even more disturbing.)

The way Teddy and Dakota casually compare notes on the people they’ve killed and why is likewise unsettling. Killing before the apocalypse landed you on death row. Killing now? Well, it’s just the way of the world. The more we learn about Dakota, the more it seems like Virginia may have been trying to protect people from her daughter. 

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As for this episode’s surprise reunion, it was great to see a familiar face—until it isn’t. Cole (Sebastian Sozzi) harkens all the way back to headier days, when Madison forged a settlement inside an abandoned stadium. That settlement went up in flames, as they tend to do in the Walking Dead universe. If you’ll recall, Madison gave her life so that her fellow survivors could live to fight another day. Which is why it’s so painful for Alicia to see her mother’s sacrifice squandered by Cole, Doug, and Viv. Since the stadium fell, they’ve become ruthless marauders.  

To Teddy, Cole and his ilk are walking justifications for why he wants to rid the world of loathsome, unsavory types. But that’s all a matter of perspective, what passes for loathsome in this world. Dakota thinks Alicia killing Cole puts the two of them on equal footing, but their moral ground isn’t the same—or is it? Killing doesn’t come easily for Alicia. At least, not like it does for the Teddys or the Dakotas of the world. Each person Alicia has killed, even in self-defense, exacts a tremendous toll.

In the end, taking out Cole proves to Teddy that Alicia is exactly who he needs to bring hope to his coming version of the world. He even goes so far as to lock her away in a secure bunker, to ensure her survival after the beached submarine’s missiles rein down destruction on the guilty. 

Kudos to Fear for playing the long game this season. It’s great to finally get more answers (about that sub, about the graffiti, about those keys), even as they create more problems for our survivors. Kudos, too, for putting Alicia front and center this week. Debnam-Carey is a force to be reckoned with; when given the chance, she elevates every episode she’s in.

A final thought: Fear seems to be going out of its way this season to remind everyone what a terrible person Strand used to be. After this episode, I’m convinced Strand will ultimately save the world from destruction.

The post Fear the Walking Dead Season 6 Episode 14 Review: Mother appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[justaramblingromantic]

Afterburn

Characters/Pairing: Kobayashi Rindou and Tsukasa Eishi/EiRin

Type: Fantasy/Medieval!AU, Dragon Heart!verse, Freestyle

Word Count: 2684

A/N: Been raining a lot over here lately, so I guess even those of us living in the tropics are starting to experience a bit of ‘winter!’ It got me in the mood to write grumpy!Rindou but I was also craving something fluffy/achy, so this ended up a mix of everything. Quick shoutout to @otakinu because we were gabbing EiRin (as always) and this was partially inspired as a result (hehe). 

Afterburn -  \ ˈaf-tər-ˌbərn \

noun 1. a hot, spicy, or burning sensation that remains in the mouth after consumption of a food or beverage 2. a period of lingering anger, fear, bitterness, etc., that follows a painful or traumatic event 3. the consumption of calories by the body in the period following exercise

“…You’re…sick?”

He sounded bewildered by the very notion.

Do dragons even get sick?

Huddled in a ball of misery in bed, she peeled open one eye and gave him a slit pupiled, gimlet stare. She looked nothing like the big scary reptilian legend from yore at the moment; appeared sorrier looking than terrifying, actually, buried under several layers of blankets with only her ruffled head sticking out.

She hadn’t wanted him to see her like this, but he had refused to leave her be until she unlatched her door and let him in, and hence he was subjected to the rare sight of her wretched self. Currently stuck in the form that was half dragon and half human, she was aware of how hideous she looked at the moment; her brilliant crimson hair limp, lank and messy like some unkempt bird nest was sitting on top of her head, the small slivers of typically glistening quicksilver, metallic sunset scales arrayed across her cheeks now dull and faded.

She looked unwell.  

“M’not sick,” she mumbled with insistence, curling under the covers and just wishing that he would go away and leave her be. She sniffled, her nose ticklish and promptly contradicting her denial. Rindou quickly reached up with claw tipped fingers to pinch her nose shut, trying to quell that terrible urge to sneeze.

It would not be a good idea to sneeze now, in this form of hers.  

Eishi was concerned. She was definitely not ‘not-sick.’ She had been subdued and moody the last few days, and he had wondered if he had done anything inadvertently to upset her even more than he already had. There were still plenty about dragons that he was unlearned about, and not knowing what to do made him feel very useless. She had always come to his rescue so blithely and instinctively every time he was in trouble; not being to reciprocate even in this seemingly small manner made him feel exceedingly unworthy and inept.

“Is there anything you need? Can I do something to make you feel better?” he offered, reaching out cautiously to touch her hair. His tentative action was not out of repulsion or fear, but born from a delicacy and worry of possibly further upsetting her – she wasn’t being very communicative or cooperative at the moment. He pressed on gamely all the same, especially when it became clear that she wasn’t going to bite his hand off.

“M’fine,” she insisted again, her eye closing. She curled tighter into herself, too used to riding out this aggravating phase on her own like she had always done to expect otherwise. “I don’t need anythin’. Go ‘way.”

He was silent for a while; it stung a bit, how she bluntly rejected his attempt to help, how she still tended to shut him out sometimes, but Eishi tried not to be disheartened, and he could be stubborn too, whenever he needed to. He was still very determined to court this cantankerous dragoness, after all.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he responded. Sure enough, he pulled her covers back, and the edge of her mattress dipped as he climbed into bed beside her. It was awkward – he felt self-conscious, for he was not used to intruding on a maiden’s modesty like so. But they had shared a bed before, months ago when they first met. He still remembered her warmth, her softness as she went to him and nestled willingly in his arms…

She had ignored his protests of propriety back then, so he would arguably do the same now. And she might not be as receptive to him as she once had in the past, but he was also aware that if she truly did not want him near, she would not hesitate to let him know that he was unwelcome.

There was no making a dragoness submit to anything that she did not want, after all.

Rindou’s eyes opened, sharpened, and she looked at him silently, not expecting his boldness. But she also did not claw at him or physically evict him from her bed, so he quickly laid down beside her, turned to his side and faced her.  

“What are you doing?” she demanded in a muffled, nasally tone. She seemed genuinely confused by his action.  

“I’m staying until you feel better,” he replied. He would not deny that this was an opportunity to be close to her – she had been as prickly as cacti ever since they reunited under tenuous circumstances and he would be a fool to miss this chance. His arms ached to hold her again; maybe she would relent and let him entice her back into his embrace...

Wooing a dragoness was no easy task, especially when she had already been stung and spooked once by him. He was very careful now when making his moves, but if he was too conservative and gentle, she tended to slip past him easily and quickly edge away, distancing herself warily. He was learning to be more…forceful, more assertive in cornering this aloof, elusive female.

“Why?” she asked. “I must be repulsive and terrifying to you, so what are you trying to prove?”

He looked at her. Horns, scales, claws. Wings, tail, fangs.

In her current form, she still retained most of her human shape and features…only with some….reptilian accessories that most would do a double take at…but which only served to accentuate her exotic appearance. An unforgettable reminder that she was something breathtakingly, beautifully wild. He was baffled by her question. Compared to some of the more monstrous, monolithic forms of Tootsuki’s other dragonic allies, she actually looked normal enough…?

“…I don’t think that you’re repulsive, or terrifying.”

She glowered at him, already testy from her condition. “So you still desire me, even after knowing that I have a form like this?”

Lavender eyes slowly darkened.

“Yes.”

Her gaze sharpened, and her disbelieving glare grew basilisk like.

“Lies,” she hissed, elongated incisors briefly glinting, and then, she was about done with him, ready to turn her back when he lifted his arms towards her and spread them apart, his expression still deceptively placid, even when in reality he was nervous; he did not want to end up alienating her even more than he already had.

“Try me,” he insisted, and there was a deliberately, faintly challenging tone in his voice, and she looked at him incredulously. What was his angle?

“You seem to be more terrified of me right now,” he observed softly, and this time he was careful not to push her too hard. The ring of truth in his comment would be enough.

She stiffened, slit gold eyes flashing.

“I’m not scared of you!”

He did not need to say ‘prove it.’ It was all in the look in his eyes, the way his arms still remained so steady and open, waiting for her.

She was like a wary animal, hovering over the instinct to fight or flight, and he knew what he wanted her to choose. He did not want her to retreat from him any more…

After a long silence, her eyes narrowed, and her chin went up in a subtly bullish manner. She took the bait. She moved in, bristling righteously for she had a point to make, an axe to grind, to prove that he was just full of it. Surely, surely, his true feelings of disgust and distaste would reveal themselves once she forced him to confront them face on.

But instead of tensing in alarm when the half human, half dragon maiden moved into his arms, Eishi relaxed, the tension leaking out of him, replaced by relief. And quiet, unfurling happiness. She hadn’t rejected him.

Her head was tilted back slightly, watching him with that challenging, slightly heckling stare. She had expected that he would flinch and recoil, seeing her unhuman features close up like this. But he did not.

He did…not??

…What?

His arms curled quickly around her, as if he did not want to wait for her to change her mind and slip away from him again; she stiffened a bit, visibly bewildered when he pulled her close, all but pressing her against his chest. She did not know what to make of his obviously affectionate reaction, stilling in a nonplussed manner as he pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent and greedily taking in her proximity.

“You still feel as soft as that time up in the mountains,” he mumbled after a long, long gratified pause. “You still smell like wild strawberries…”

“You still own my heart.”

For him, this was it. She was it. Simple as that.

Rindou was stiffening again.

Oh no, she wasn’t going to be tricked by him again a second time. For someone who was usually so stoic and reserved, he sure was good at flooring her with his words. Her hands came up between them, and she looked like she was intent on shoving him away. She had made a wrong move. He was wilier than she had assumed, trying to soften her like this.

“I don’t wanna hear that from you anymore-”

But he held her tighter and refused to let her go. She squeaked a bit when he squeezed her in his arms.

“Calm down,” he told her, and she bristled a bit at his unusually assertive demeanor. “Even if you don’t like me very much now, at least let me make you feel better,” he continued, trying his best to speak calmly over the sharpness of her aggravation. Her thorns hurt him, but he would press them all against his flesh if it meant that she would let him stay beside her. “Pretend I’m somebody else. Use me as you wish, but please let me help you.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she blustered grumpily, still feeling both riled up and off balanced by him…but what else was new?

He wisely held his tongue because it seemed that no matter what he said or did lately always seemed to irk her, so in this case, discretion was the better part of valor. It appeared to work, for she wasn’t tearing herself out of his arms anymore, and after a long simmering hesitation, appeared to be gingerly, cautiously settling down like a restless, edgy feline. Her grudging concession gave him some hope, mainly because however much she seemed to not like him at the moment, even she could not entirely deny this tangible connection that existed between them both, that tugged on them and pulled them together regardless of their complicated situation. Or maybe she just did not want to be alone now, and he was the closest approximation of company that she was willing to put up with.

Whichever it was, he would take it.

Eishi instinctively, quietly, nosed her hair, content that she was so close by. She turned her head and gave him a beleaguered stare.

“Don’t think I won’t bite you if you try anything funny.”

He was faintly taken aback by her belligerent distrust.

“I don’t intend to,” he told her honestly.

She gave him the evil eye for a few beats longer, but Eishi was too happy that she was staying put in his arms to care. He was blatantly taking advantage of her momentary weakness, but at this point, he was also willing to try anything if it gave him a sporting chance of getting back into her good books.

At last, she huffed and looked away, the vibrating tension and suspicion slowly bleeding away. She was studiously ignoring his stare then, but she pressed close and curled into him. Her hands fisted into the front of his tunic. She was so prickly, he could not help but think, though somehow, her reticence only made him more determined to win her affections back.

It was quiet for a while, at least until Rindou’s nose twitched again with forewarning that came too late. Her watery eyes widened, and she quickly lifted her head from his chest and turned away-

“A-chooo!!”

The small torrent of orangey, fiery flames that briefly blazed out of her open mouth less than a mere foot away startled him, not that he could be blamed. Thankfully, she drew away in time and managed to direct the fire’s trajectory overhead, and the resulting heatwave served to warm up the cold room, followed by a vaguely sweet scent of pure Sulphur slowly dissipating in the air. He went utterly still, inwardly flabbergasted.

“…Was that fire??”

She gave him a baleful stare for asking the obvious and huffed. A ring of smoke floated out from between her parted fangs. He tried not to stare.  

Ah. Dragoness, he reminded himself, trying to take it all in stride. She was dragon, and dragon breathed fires. Dragonfires. It shouldn’t be entirely shocking to him, since this was what he had signed up for…

Rindou was rubbing her nose and sniffling blearily again. There was no denying it now, that something was indeed not quite right with her. In the first place, her sneezing fire did not seem deliberate on her part…

“You’re sick.”

“M’not!” she denied again, still testy as ever. “M’molting.”

He lifted his head to stare at her, completely befuddled.

“What?”

She growled in frustration, a throaty sound that erupted from her chest and intrigued him. “I’m molting,” she repeated more clearly this time, frowning. “I’m shedding, my scales are falling out to make way for new growth.”

…Oh.

No wonder she seemed irritated and visibly uncomfortable…and also physically rumpled at the moment. He was nonplussed for a bit, not sure how to respond.

“Does this…molting happens often?”

She was already resigned to the understanding that he wasn’t planning to leave her alone. Maybe if she answered his questions as fast as she could, he’d finally be quiet and let her sleep.

“Every year,” she replied. “And I get tired and my skin feels too tight and it hurts too much when I’m in my human form so I have to change to this.” There was a small unconscious whine that accompanied the end of her sentence, and one that he paid attention to.  

“Will it be better if you turn full dragon…?”

She shook her head, snuffling into his shoulder. To his credit, he did not flinch away from the danger, even with the knowledge that she was very volatile right now, in all meanings of the word.  

“No difference. I’d just be sheddin’ a lotta scales everywhere and makin’ a mess everywhere and feelin’ grumpy and gigantic…”

She was downright miserable, and it did not help matters whatsoever that she always had a lot of trouble retaining and regulating her body heat during this all too bothersome, aggravating period.

He was at a loss for a while, not sure how to make her feel better. At last, he started to pet her hair, at first awkwardly, feeling rather redundant and very self-conscious the entire way, but she did not turn on him suddenly and snap in protest, and seemed to be taking his wordless response of sympathy well enough… There obviously wasn’t anything that he could do to alleviate her discomfort at this point, beyond serving as a distraction. His movements slowed, took on a slow, calming rhythm, gently carding through the tousled red strands of her wild tresses, carefully working out the tangles with his adroit fingers, and he repeated the soothing motions until her fidgeting grew lesser, and she snuggled into his side, slowly relaxing, her eyes closing. Her slender but spiked, prehensile tail curled loosely around his ankle, and her leathery wings, folded neatly against her back, twitched with lazy contentment.

“I still don’t like you a lot right now,” she mumbled, drifting off, just so that he was clear where they both stood with each other. Or in this case, where they both laid. “I’m just using ya ‘coz you’re convenient and warm, is all.”

He paused in the midst of stroking her hair.

“That’s alright. I’ll still like you regardless of what you do, so use me all you want.”

A/N II: Fun fact - Reptiles molt at regular intervals, so I don’t see why dragons would be any different. The process of molting/shedding is not enjoyable at all and I’d imagine the whole thing would feel like a very BAD sunburn. Whenever my vine snakes molt, they get so hissy and cranky and just want to be left alone to do their business in peace, so I don’t know whether Eishi is being brave or just plain reckless for bearding his lady dragon in her grumpy den, lol. 

[ratcaulker]

 ✍ + all the numbers?

1) …their sleep schedule.

Naturally an extremely light sleeper, but able to nap whenever needed. He’s adapted to a ship’s schedule in the last few years, so his sleeping times are a little more disciplined than before. Four hours at a time between shifts.

2) …being touched.

I headcanon him as being tactile about emotions, so he’d enjoy touching people, patting their backs, holding hands with someone he fancies, etc. Likewise, that he’d enjoy being on the receiving end of physical signs of affection or sympathy.

Rats do like to cuddle, after all.

3) …how long they hold grudges.

For ever and ever!

A grudge won’t stop him from getting along with someone he finds useful, but Hickey’s not one to ever forget any detail of a wrong that he perceives was done to him.

4) …how sensitive they are to insults.

Very sensitive, but masks it with a kind of careless attitude, one that’s cheerful insolence at best and stone-cold uncaring at worst.

Hickey seems very touchy about matters of rank, very resentful of his social limitations and is thus begrudging of any remarks against his character - which we do see from his confrontations with Crozier, Irving and even Gibson.

5) …being complimented.

Again, very sensitive. I’d even say unrealistically optimistic as to what weight a compliment might carry. I headcanon he’d be more exuberant over compliments if it’s a person of importance giving them, but that he privately preens over any situation where he feels he’s shown himself as a Someone.

As a side note, I feel Hickey has poor understanding of the nuances of the rigid social structure he lives in aboard the Terror. He interprets Crozier’s tepid offer of a drink as a definite sign of his imminent going up in the world, to the point where it actually causes him to disregard orders and he ends up punished for that.

6) …being alone.

I’d say he’s pretty good at being alone in the everyday sense, since he’s probably used to shedding people from his life and only really looks out for himself. I can see him as fully retaining his capacities if he was, say, sent to the brig as punishment, because he can spend his alone time scheming and thinking up future acts of revenge.

But in the situation of utter loneliness, such as being the last man left alive, I’m going to go with a little bit of the (dreadful) book!Hickey here for my headcanon and say he’d eventually go mad. He’s a social creature at heart and does not work well in a setting where he can’t bounce off other people, for good or bad.

7) …meeting new people.

Very good at it, since he adapted to a wholly new environment and career without sticking out much (until things got extreme). I’d say his everyday social skills are good enough to make him reasonably likeable as a casual drinking buddy or coworker, but that people of a sharper understanding of others would see right through him.

8) …getting sick (a cold, flu, etc.)

He’s very cautious about getting ill. Look at how he avoided even being near David Young when the poor boy started spitting out blood.

I headcanon Hickey as a very whiny patient: he’d let everyone know if he was feeling too unwell to work. I also believe his low status means he’s full aware of the horrors of ye old Victorian diseases and their consequences.

On the other hand, I headcanon him as keeping his illness super quiet and invisible if he thinks it’ll endanger him (such as being left behind in case of something contagious).

9) …eating.

Um. Definitely NOT a picky eater. He’ll eat leftovers, he’ll eat boiled boot, he’ll eat his coworkers, he’ll eat his ex, he’ll eat a giant demonic bear if given the chance…

10) …their handwriting.

I’d say very simple and carefully stamped out, as if he can’t write too well but is mortified of the thought of anyone looking down on him for it.

11) …how easily they make friends.

Fairly easy, for shallow friendships, given that he’s capable of flattery and making himself agreeable. He has enough of a way with people that they’d follow his terribly ideas, even if they don’t particularly trust or even like him as a person.

12) …how educated they are.

Not educated at all, but he does know how to read and has a good visual memory, so expect that he got some minor schooling. My headcanon is that he spent time at a workhouse as a child.

13) …the type of music they like.

Nothing very refined. I’d expect he’d enjoy a rowdy tune like a shanty, especially if accompanied by a drink.

14) …a beloved toy or pet they had as a child.

Squeaky the plush rat.

I can’t see Hickey as having had many toys or having the emotional capacity for a pet that’d just use up limited resources.

I do headcanon him as being fond of particularly mean alley cats. He’ll shoo them away or throw water at them, but he grins like a fool if he sees the cat scratching up a big dog or stealing a fish from the market. He just likes the thought of a little guy standing up against an unfriendly world.

15) …where they see themselves in ten years.

On a tropical island where he doesn’t have to do any hard work. Alternatively, wrecking havoc as lord and master to a sentient polar bear.

…I don’t know. Mr Hickey’s future plans are the stuff of nightmares.

16) …what really scares them.

I wanted to say death, but he doesn’t actually show much fear in the face of life-threatening situations.

I’d say loss of control over his own fate. He can’t abide going down without having done everything he could to establish his mastery over the situation, even if it is realistically the worst possible route for everyone else involved.

17) …how good they are with technology.

Not particularly good. Mid 1800s tech was limited to higher classes, and my headcanon is that he’s more eager to cosy up to someone who knows how to use tech than to try learn it himself.

Unless he thinks he can use that tech to his own ends in some underhand way, then he’ll do his damn best to try figure it out.

18) …how they would describe their personality.

Hickey would think of himself as very clever and cunning, capable of doing whatever needs to be done. He’d think of himself as an eternal victim of circumstances, as a charming fellow who just needs a lucky break.

Other people would not describe him in the same way.

19) …what makes them happy.

A little ironic considering Irving’s words of Christian pleasures, but Hickey seems happiest in the midst of other people in social situations where there’s drinking, singing and free food to be had.

He’s also pretty happy to spend quality time with a boyfriend.

If the above sources of joy are unavailable and the going is a bit rough, he’ll make do with scheming, commanding a ragtag crew of desperate men or knifing people he hates. Grave-robbery is also a fun hobby.

20) …what they think the meaning of life is.

To survive for as long as you can, whatever the price!