#i liked the way they wrote mal to be a little more sympathetic than in the books (although i was always sympathetic to him)

[raisindeatre]

i'm sorry, i don't want to be rude or insensitive so feel free not to reply but - isn't it a good thing that they cast a half-Chinese actress as Alina? would you rather they had kept her white?

Hello anon, and thanks for the question. Before anything else I just want to say, as always, that this is just my opinion - other people may feel differently, and it’s not my place to judge. But since you asked - I think I would have! Like I genuinely think I would rather have watched a show with White Alina than to sit through so much blatant and horrific racial abuse hurled at the main character!

Diversity is so, so important, and I’m happy that the show’s decision to make her half-Shu Han meant that people like Jessie Mei Li were given opportunities that might otherwise have been denied them. But I just feel like the power of including diversity is undercut when you feel the need to include completely unnecessary racism along with it. I cannot stress enough that NONE of the racism voiced in the show was in the books. And, like, we didn’t need any of it! I’ve read the interviews and the meta where people argue that Alina before the start of the series felt misunderstood, isolated, and like she never belonged anywhere - and so that making her biracial was a way of really rooting those issues in the character. But canon!Alina, before she was made half-Shu Han, already felt all those ways. There was no need to add a racial aspect to that. And so I think what we really need to ask is: did the showrunners really intend to highlight the loneliness and isolation in a main character by making her biracial,  or did they just want a vehicle for their anti-(East) Asian racism? (I’m a little more hesitant to speak on the subject of anti-South Asian racism, since I don’t feel qualified, but @bhatoora points out a similar instance when the Inferni calls Inej “Suli filth!” - a scene which really felt like being hit in the face. I just find it incredibly telling that of all the insults to level at Inej in that moment (murderer, thief, kidnapper - take your pick!) it’s the race-based insult that this Inferni really chose to say with her whole chest. And like, someone wrote this scene into the script. Somebody directed it. Somebody approved it to be broadcast worldwide).

What I think is incredibly important to point out is that the narrative of Alina’s journey to becoming a more powerful Grisha and person, in general, is strongly rooted in the idea of her accepting herself as she is - but this journey to self-acceptance is NEVER directed towards her own Shu heritage. If anything, she actively disavows it any chance she gets - “I don’t actually speak Shu Han”; “I’m Ravkan, not Shu Han”. Like, girl. You are, though! You’re half-Shu Han! There is never a scene where she is shown to be anything other than actively self-hating when it comes to that part of her. 

And I really do understand the canonical context (what with Ravka and Shu Han being at war). I get it - I’d argue I understand it better than any white American that tries to point this out to me. My grandmother is Chinese, in a country where historically the Chinese and the ethnic Malays have been at each other’s throats (see the extremely bloody 1969 racial riots of Malaysia). I understand feeling conflicted and ashamed about your heritage. But I just don’t understand how portraying a biracial character who HATES the part of her that is not coded white, the part that is coded Asian, is supposed to make me feel anything other than nauseated. I fail to see anything about it that is supposed to make me feel empowered. 

TLDR; Diversity is important, yes. But when you feel the need to include racism -and not just include it, but actively write it in - the moment you cast a WOC as your main character, the dangerous message it sends is that diversity cannot exist without racism. That they go hand-in-hand. That people of colour fundamentally cannot exist in a world, even a fucking fantasy world, that doesn’t hate them. And that notion really just makes me want to walk into the ocean and just keep walking, anon!!! Anyway. White people really, really need to do better, or failing that, they need to just shut up and sit down.

Thank you for sending this in, and I hope this answered your question. If you or anyone else wants to know more, though, I strongly urge you to look elsewhere on the Internet. I know people better and more eloquent than I am have chosen to write about this, and honestly I’m too tired to discuss this any further.

[honourablejester]

Shadow & Bone Reaction

Okay, so I watched Shadow & Bone last night. Stayed up until 5am to manage it, so this is going to be muddled, but howandever. Spoilery and involved first impressions from someone who has not read the books below:

Right, so the Ketterdam crew are my favourites. Obviously. This was guaranteed

All three of them, I cannot decide between them

Jesper is a gambling addict which does grind my miserly gears a bit, but he’s also lovely and adorable and quite possibly the most badass person on the show, which is an achievement, and his interactions with Inej are beyond adorable, so I love him with all my heart

That thing Inej said to Alina? Whenever you need it, my hand is yours? That is me for Inej. More on this later

Kaz is a vicious little gremlin of a man with a badly hidden streak of loyalty, and he’s exactly my stripe of guile antihero, so of course I adore him madly

The absolute chaos of them just … accidentally poking their oars into the entire rest of the plot is beautiful beyond belief. They’re just there and mucking things up for everybody like someone threw a bag of spanners into an engine, and it’s beautiful

I was surprisingly really on board for Mal and Alina. Particularly them as kids, this pair of tiny scrappers against the world

I also loved the whole First Army part at the beginning. Like, Mal’s pair of friends, Mikael and Dubrov, they’re adorable (and I fucking screamed later, with the machine gun, you bet), him and Alina in the camp, his friends teasing him about her, him stealing Grisha grapes for her. The show got right in on the friendship and the love there, and honestly I was there for it

The Darkling, on the other hand …

Right. So. I expected him to maybe be … more subtle than he was? I mean, I think everyone’s expecting him to go villain here, so it probably wasn’t supposed to be that subtle, but …

That moment where Alina decides to kiss him. After being separated from Mal, with no communication with her old life, and with Kirigan being all sad and incredibly intense at her at random moments. Like. Long, long before we get to his whole forcibly altering her body to control her moment, I was looking at her kissing this dude and going ‘Oookay, okay lady, that’s, that’s not a good plan. I get that it’s Ben Barnes, do not blame you there, but that’s so not a good plan’

He just kept coming on so fucking strong, you know? The whole intense ‘I’ve been waiting for you my whole life’. He was bleeding desperation and control from the get go. And like, lots of people have those in this show, but where someone like Kaz or Inej feel like ‘I will stab you in the face right fucking now to get out of this alive’, Kirigan is very much, yes, ‘I will swallow your entire city in darkness and give a nice little speech about it to captive dignitaries who I’ll then murder because they shouldn’t have opened their mouths’

There’s more power there than the others, I think, so it feels less like ‘I’ll do what I have to do’ and more ‘I’ll do what I want’

Which his backstory was an interesting show on, yes, how he started out just as desperate as any of them, and then vengeance and black magic ate him. As it does. But still. He comes on too strong

(And the collar. The collar. Not even the massacre later matched that one for me, though Genya’s casual mention of him ‘gifting’ her at 11 came close. But it didn’t match the collar for visceral no. He mutilated Alina to implant a control device within her body. He can die in a ditch with his head covered in pitch and set on fire now. I can’t with him. No)

So, yes. Excellent villain, definitely, I just expected him to maybe take a bit longer to show it?

His minions are adorable, though. The two married heartrenders, Genya and the Durast she has the biggest danged crush on (gotta say, when Kirigan said he needed him for later, I was honestly expecting him to kill him for something, to hurt Genya, did not expect David to be in on the whole mutilating control collar thing)

The show did a lot of work humanising the various factions, so when you get moments like Jesper vs Ivan, round 1, you don’t want either of them to lose, because Ivan has a husband to go back to, and Jesper is Jesper. And then Jesper can’t shoot a pretty man in the face, and we’re golden

(Sidenote one: that scene was badass, holy shit, Jesper was playing with him, it was incredible)

(Sidenote two: Jesper vs Ivan, round 2? Less sympathetic on Ivan’s part)

(Sidenote three: the Ketterdam three vs Kirigan’s everybody was just, god I love them, we’re going to be straight badass all down the line, can you beat a centuries-old shadow sorcerer with a flashbang? An inferni with a knife? A heartrender with a gun while playing with him the entire time? Come to Ketterdam and find out! I love them)

Now. Now. The main thing for me. Inej. Inej and Alina and Kaz

The scene in the Little Palace where Alina shows her power. Ignoring everything that promptly went tits up for everybody. The look on Inej’s face. The look on her face. Hope and faith. From Inej, who’s been so hurt and desperate so far. Oh, that killed me. So much. I was there like, Alina, Alina, it’s not your fault, but you better be worth it, I know you don’t need the pressure but if you have to let anyone down, let it not be Inej. Not her. And Kaz Brekker, you sociopathic mushroom, do not fuck this up for her. Okay? Not this

And then he doesn’t. He doesn’t. He gives up a million kruge and potentially everything he has so he doesn’t have to break Inej’s faith. I loved him there. Right there

And like, he was trying to weasel something out of it. He was still trying to bully Alina all the way to the end, even after she saved his life, because he didn’t want to lose everything, he wanted to have some way to be able to bring Jesper and Inej back with him, because otherwise he was walking back to a city that hated him with literally nothing, since he’d mortgaged the Crow Club on Inej’s debt, and she’d walked out on him anyway, and he’d let her. So he tried to bully Alina, tried to force some way to let Inej come back, without actually forcing Inej. Just, you know, the saint she loved instead, and a woman who’d also just lost everything, and maybe could have used those jewels to stay ahead of pursuit for a while, but that’s not his problem. That’s not his problem

Kaz Brekker is a vicious horrible gremlin of a man, but not to his own, mostly, as much as he can avoid it, and like … did they know in advance what I like? Because that was it

(Him entering the fight on the skiff solely to save the other two, everyone else can die, but he’s going to dive Jesper clear of the Cut and hammer a volcra’s head in to save an unarmed Inej, that was beautiful. Even if I was a tiny bit annoyed at Inej for panicking and throwing her weapons away while outnumbered by flying things. No. Keep them close to stab anything that comes near you, honey, don’t throw them into the darkness. But Kaz saving his Crows was beautiful)

Also, to go back to Inej and Alina, just a little. How much do I love that Inej’s knife saved them all? Inej kissed her knife and planted in the Darkling’s chest, and it did fuck all to him, but then it’s the knife Alina used to take her freedom back and save them all

Inej’s knife freed Alina. Gave a slave her freedom back. Gave her saint her power. Not by killing, but as a tool to break a chain. I can’t. I really, really can’t. Whoever wrote that episode, thank you a lot

You may have guessed, I have feelings about Inej, and Alina, and Kaz, and freedom, and faith, faith in another power and faith in yourself and those you trust, and it’s all tied up in a knife and a debt, and people offering freedom to each other against their own best interests, and I really can’t with them. I can’t. I’m inarticulate over here

Like, this beautiful man did this hideous thing, made this horrible vicious collar, and then all these scared, battered little outcasts and ex-slaves and current slaves gave each other tiny moment after tiny moment after tiny moment that allowed them all to free each other

I can’t

And then Alina gave Inej her knife. The little letter opener that she’d robbed from the Little Palace. The little symbol of two tiny orphans having each other’s backs against the world. Alina gave that back to Inej

Inej’s knives are a whole thing. Kaz gave Inej a job, a way out of slavery, and it’s both joy and horror to her, freedom and damnation, she doesn’t want to kill people but that’s what knives are for, and it’s a freedom she sometimes forces herself to surrender out of trust in Kaz, and then she does kill people, but it’s to save those she cares for, to save Kaz, and then her knife saves them all as a key, not a murder weapon, and Alina, for whom knives are also a symbol of protection, for herself and those she loves, and now freedom as well, gives Inej hers as this tiny gesture that means so much …

And earlier, Kaz stopping her from killing the Conductor, and it was for his own reasons, it was because he needed the man for a job, but the fact that he did that meant that Inej’s first kill wasn’t a murder, an assassination to save herself, but a clean kill in defense of someone else. A kill she could explain to her saints. Especially the one that showed up, because Alina knows all about that

(And when her knives run out, when she’s lost them all on the skiff and is facing death, it’s Kaz who saves her, who pays his debt and preserves her freedom, because he can be trusted with them, with the knives and all they mean …)

And the two things Alina gives them. The knife for Inej, and the jewels for Kaz. A gift for the woman who saved her, and a bribe for the man who threatened her. And it’s exactly what they need. Both of them. It’s freedom and forgiveness and hope for them both. And she had no idea, she just gave what she had at the time. A saint by pure accident, like she’s been all along, but it meant the world. Sometimes all a person needs is one thing. A knife, a chance. A hope

Whoever was writing the thing with the knives, and the saints, and faith in yourself and those around you, you are a genius and I love you

And, like, I should move on. There were other things in the show. Nina and Matthias, I’ve pretty much not mentioned them at all (they are adorable, even as they’re basically Stockholming each other, and then the last episode hit, and everything was good, more or less, for everyone else, so that last fucking punch was a lot, thank you so much), I just …

Knives and faith. Inej, Alina and Kaz. I love everybody, but that was so much the thing that caught me here. That’s what I’m mostly getting out of this show right now

[drawlfoy]

Soft Spot

masterlist request guidelines requests are open!

pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader

request: yes! there are two of you who requested something very similar, so i’m knocking this one out first to take care of both of you!

summary: you’ve had a crush on draco malfoy for as long as you can remember,...but the funny thing is, you’ve never even spoken to him. he’s mean, he’s spoiled rotten, he’s everything that a hufflepuff could ever want...but you will keep it a secret, right? won’t you? because it’s not like he even knows you exist...

warnings: language and cringiness

a/n: this is gonna kinda be my farewell fic for the summer, something that breaks my heart. i’ll be slowly drafting other requests and i WILL start posting that dramione one once it gets to late fall for the ~aesthetic~. thank you to everyone reading this! you’ve inspired me to keep writing and growing my skills. i love each and every one of you, and i hope you enjoy this last little tidbit of my writing for the summer! but also... i might have a little cringe surprise of a fic i already wrote like 6 years ago saved for later on. this isn’t goodbye, it’s just a see you later!

also... i don’t really know if seekers shake hands at the beginning of the match. i think it’s just the captains but like....let me live and let the plot thrive in a slight harry potter AU where seekers shake hands before games okay

music recs: 1980s horror film II - the wallows

word count: 3,383

tags tags tags! @accio-rogers @geeksareunique

also i literally cannot believe myself i was supposed to write this over a period of a week not 3 hours wtf

“The more concise the flick, the more concentrated your magic will be. No, no, Longbottom, I said concise, not unhinged...try again.”

Y/N watched sympathetically as the Gryffindor struggled to turn the vinegar into wine, Professor Flitwick peering over his shoulder and cringing as the boy flailed about. 

“Poor Neville,” Hannah murmured to her right, her vinegar already having been turned into a deep crimson. “You’d think they’d let up on him by now and just let him do his thing with Herbology.”

“Yeah, but then again, he is abnormally talented at that,” Y/N said, watching the boy carefully. “He probably has the skills. He just needs to tap into them.”

Hannah smiled at her, leaning back into her chair. “Oh, Y/N, always seeing the best in everyone.”

“Oh, stop it. I’m just optimistic.”

“Are you, now?” Hannah leaned forward, wiggling her eyebrows. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think it takes more than just simple optimism to have a crush on--”

“Hannah! Quiet!” Y/N’s cheeks flamed at the suggestion. “You’re talking too loud.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She rolled her eyes, still wearing a mischievous grin. “It’s just so funny to me. Have you ever even talked to Mal--”

“Do not say his name!” Y/N hissed. “And...yes, for your information, I have. Last year he bumped into me. I said ‘sorry’.”

“And?”

Y/N looked puzzled. “What?”

“And what did he say back?”

She blushed even harder, slinking down in her seat. “Okay, okay, he didn’t say anything. He just nodded and kept walking.”

Hannah grunted, looking entirely unimpressed. 

“At least he didn’t say anything mean! That’s an improvement!”

“Y/N, I love you,” Hannah began, “And I think you need to have slightly higher standards.”

“You antagonize me,” Y/N moaned, dramatically throwing herself over her chair. “Let me have a little fun. I know nothing’s going to come out of it. So do you.”

Hannah giggled. “I know. I’m just giving you a hard time. And if something did come out of it....” --Y/N laughed at that-- “...I would still love and support you no matter what. Besides, I think Nott is kind of a catch. Think you could set us up once you have your own Slytherin?”

Y/N smacked her arm good-naturedly. “Anything for my Han--”

“Ladies,” Professor Flitwich greeted. “I’m not seeing much magic occurring over here.”

“We’re done, Professor,” Hannah responded, motioning to the two charmed goblets of wine. Y/N simply nodded along, feeling slightly uncomfortable under the eyes of all of the students in the room. It had grown silent, and it seemed as though the Slytherins over in the corner were smugly awaiting a deduction of points from the Hufflepuffs. Draco Malfoy looked entirely uninterested, choosing to absentmindedly levitate a quill instead.

“Very well.” Flitwick nodded briskly. “But I would prefer if you two took your conversation out of my classroom. It seems as though you both have a grasp on this lesson and no longer need to be here...if you so wish.” There was a twinkle in his eye that reminded Y/N why Flitwick was one of her favorite professors.

“Thank you, Professor,” the two said in unison as they began to pack up their things. Flitwick waved his wand, effortlessly changing the wine back into its original form. 

The Slytherins began chattering again, filling the room with its usual ambiance. 

“Malfoy was looking at you,” Hannah hummed into Y/N’s ear.

“No, he wasn’t,” she responded. “I saw him. He was levitating a quill or whatever.”

“Not the whole time. And, oh, the way he was looking at you...total fuck-me eyes.”

“You’re gross, Hannah,” Y/N managed in between laughs. “Was that before or after he stood up on the desk and confessed his unconditional love for Hagrid?”

“During. He always did strike me as a polyamorous guy.”

“Stop!” Y/N burst into a laughing fit, drawing some attention to them as they walked out the door. “You’re bad!”

Hannah chuckled a bit herself, skipping down the corridor. The fall afternoon sun shone through the windows, casting a warm glow on everything inside. Y/N jogged up to meet her, struggling to shove the last of her supplies into the right pockets of her satchel. 

“Slow down, will you?” Y/N called, stopping to catch her breath.

“Damn, Y/L/N, you really expect to be able to seek this weekend? With that lung capacity?” Hannah joked, skipping back to her.

“Says the person who has never played a single match of Quidditch in her life,” Y/N countered, raising an eyebrow. 

“Okay, you got me there.” Hannah raised her arm in a surrender. “I watch you enough, though.Speaking of watching you...”

She sidled up close to Y/N, shoving her playfully. “How does it feel playing your very first game against...Slytherin? With Malfoy as the opposing seeker?”

“Oh, stop it,” Y/N groaned. “It’s nervewracking enough. I saw how he treated Harry in the last game. He plays rough.”

Hannah’s eyes widened. 

Uh, oh. She only ever did that when she was plotting.

“That’s it,” she sang, skipping circles around a confused Y/N. “That’s how you’re gonna find out if he has a soft spot for you!”

“Huh?”

“You just said he plays dirty with Harry,” she explained. “And I’ve seen him mess with Cho too. If he’s nicer to you and doesn’t shove you off your broom...then you know that he likes you!”

“Hannah, I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Y/N admitted, beginning to walk forward again. “First of all, even if he did like me, why would he be willing to be nice to me in front of the entire school? To a half-blood Hufflepuff? He couldn’t, it would ruin his reputation. And second of all, there’s no way he does like me. You said it yourself...he’s never said a word to me.”

Hannah sighed, cracking her knuckles as she looked at the stained glass on the ceiling. “That’s true. But you liked him even before you talked to him. Why do you assume he couldn’t feel the same way?”

“Because he’s a Malfoy, and I’m not his caliber,” Y/N said, her voice flat. 

“And how come you get to decide what his caliber is?”

<>

Hannah’s suggestion rattled around in Y/N’s head. It frustrated her--it really did. She was supposed to be training for her very first match, not daydreaming about how Draco’s hair would look under the setting sun of the pitch. But she couldn’t stop. 

She started paying even more attention to him, if that was possible. She stole looks at him from across the dining hall, watching as he rolled his eyes and laughed at something Pansy Parkinson said. Now that she thought of it, she rarely saw Draco without Pansy...but she couldn’t decipher if that was a mutual decision or if Pansy clung to Draco like Hannah told her she did. 

On Friday night, instead of discussing strategy with the captain, Zacharias Smith, she was watching a particularly interesting scene at the Slytherin table. Pansy was pushed up next to Draco, whispering whatever she was whispering into his ear. He didn’t look thrilled, but he certainly wasn’t pushing her away. Anger boiled in her chest, so much so that she almost didn’t notice the tap on her shoulder. 

“Y/L/N.” 

The firm male voice finally caught her attention as she spun around to see Blaise Zabini looking down at her.

“What?” Her tone was sharp, clipped from what she had just seen over at his table.

“Malfoy wants to talk to you,” he said blankly. “You are the seeker, right?”

“Er...yeah.”

“Come with me then, we don’t have all day.” Blaise grabbed her arm, hauling her up rougher than she would’ve liked. Hannah shot her a shit eating grin which Y/N did not return. 

She was too nervous. Why would Draco want to talk to her? 

Blaise dragged her across the Great Hall as the rest of her house curiously watched. The Slytherin table, hostile as ever, quieted down to a hushed murmur as she neared the group that always surrounded Draco. 

“Here,” Blaise spat, pushing Y/N forward to him. She stared daggers at him in response. No, she was most certainly not in a cheery mood today. 

“I said bring her over, not drag her by her hair,” Draco said, slowly dragging his eyes over her. She flinched in response, not quite knowing what to say. 

“What for?” Her voice was strong, something that surprised her greatly. 

He raised an eyebrow as Pansy scowled in the background. “It’s concerning our match tomorrow. I want to propose a deal.”

“A deal?”

“Yes.” Draco sighed, looking rather irritated that she hadn’t caught on yet. “You agree to not catch the snitch, and I’ll give you something that you want. Galleons, perhaps?” He smirked. 

“No, that’s quite alright,” Y/N responded breezily, instead focusing on quelling the raging blush on her cheeks. The way that Draco looked at her made her feel like he could see into her soul, and she couldn’t tell if she liked it yet. “I’m perfectly content with just playing a fair game.”

“A fair game?” Draco snorted, and the rest of his friends followed suit with canned laughter. “I think you’ve forgotten exactly who you’re playing against, love.”

“If you’re so good, then you shouldn’t have to bribe me,” Y/N shot back before she could hold her tongue.

Wait...what did he just call me?

Draco shrugged, seemingly unbothered, but Pansy sprung to his defense. “Draco, I think you ought to teach this little Hufflepuff to mind her manners around you.”

Y/N, stunned by her realization, simply stared at him, waiting for a response.

“No need, Pansy,” he said, holding eye contact with Y/N. “There’s plenty of time for that tomorrow. You can...er...go now.”

Blaise seized her arm again, but before she could move to yank her arm out of his grip, Draco’s voice broke the silence again. “Zabini, I hardly think that she needs an escort.”

Dazed, she pulled her arm away from him and dashed off. Hannah was waiting back at the Hufflepuff table, her plate long forgotten.

“What was that??” she squealed, nearly bouncing in her seat. Y/N just stared at her.

“He called me love.”

<>

Thankfully, she had long cast aside her thoughts of a particular white-blonde by the next morning. Y/N was so nervous that Hannah nearly had to force down her toast.

“C’mon, you need the energy!” Hannah pleaded. “At least drink some water. I can’t have you passing out on the pitch! Hufflepuff needs you!”

Zacharias, or Arias, as he asked her to call him, was sitting next to her, calmly going over the strategies for the game. 

“You really do need to eat,” he informed her. “I know you feel like you’re gonna vomit, but you’ve just gotta force it down. You’ll thank me later.”

Under his watchful gaze, Y/N began nibbling on her toast, forcing it down.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Anyways, your biggest worry right now isn’t the Beaters...it’s the other seeker. Normally it wouldn’t be like that against, say, Gryffindor, but you’ve seen how Malfoy plays. He isn’t afraid of a few fouls.”

Y/N nodded, the nausea returning.

“But you’re smart, and I chose you for a reason,” Arias said, patting her shoulder. “You’re going to do great. I know it. And our Chasers are great, so even if you can’t catch the Snitch, we’ll be okay.”

She nodded again, leaning into him and blinking hard. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a pair of ice grey eyes trained on her.

<>

“...and I want a clean, fair game today,” Madame Hooch finished. Y/N was ashamed, but she’d spaced out on the entire speech, instead focusing on how nervous she was. 

She was obviously shaking, and she felt even more pathetic standing across from the Slytherin team. They were all buff and tall and scary looking, and she was short and shaking. 

Arias placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Don’t worry, Y/N/N. It’ll all be over before you know it.”

She nodded, swallowing to try and combat her dry mouth. It didn’t work, especially when she saw that Draco was watching her with an amused look on his face. When she caught his eye, he raised an eyebrow quizzically at her and smirked. 

Arse. 

“Seekers, shake hands.” Hooch’s voice cut into her thoughts. Arias prodded her forward, and Y/N complied, stepping closer to Draco. 

He clasped her hand firmly, leaning forward just a fraction. 

“Don’t be so scared,” he stage-whispered. “We’re playing a fair game, remember?” 

At this, his Slytherin teammates chortled in the background as Arias frowned.

“Leave her be, Malfoy,” he hissed, pulling Y/N back to the Hufflepuffs. “I swear, if you lay a hand on her, I’ll...”

“Relax, Smith, I’m not gonna touch your girlfriend,” he drawled. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” 

“Mhm.”

At Hooch’s command, the two captains stepped forward and shook hands, Arias glowering at Malfoy and Malfoy smirked down at him.

The game started before Y/N knew it, and suddenly, her worry slipped away. She was no longer a lowly Hufflepuff--she was a seeker, and a damned good one at that. 

She had watched enough Slytherin matches to know Malfoy’s dirty strategies. He generally relied on faking out the other seeker, which she found a rather cheap tactic. 

Y/N decided to just take a few wide sweeps around the arena, dipping up and down through the air. Draco clearly hadn’t seen anything--he was flying in lazy circles much higher than her, clearly trying to get a higher vantage point of the arena to search for the gold glint in the air. 

Speaking of which...when she flew past the Ravenclaw section, she caught a glimpse of a slight shimmer in the air.

No way. This early in the game?

Y/N squinted, pausing in the air for a second. The gold shimmer moved again, just a few hundred feet away from her. 

She’d spotted it!

Glancing up, she saw that Draco was watching her intently. As casually as she could, she began making her way towards the Snitch, still flickering around a little next to one of the columns of the pitch. 

When he turned away for a second, Y/N gunned it, speeding towards it. It began to move away from her rapidly, but at the same, time, she was gaining momentum. 

“And it appears that Y/N Y/L/N has spotted the snitch!”

The Hufflepuff section roared as she closed in on the distance. She began stretching her hand out and was just inches away from it when something lightly bumped her shoulder.

Draco.

He moved so his shoulder was pressed to hers, keeping up with her exactly and leaning forward, mimicking her movements.

“You’re not half bad, you know,” he mused as nonchalantly as the whistling air would allow. 

“I do. Same with you.”

Y/N’s broom was going as fast as it could without being uncontrollable, and it seemed that that was the case for Draco as well. His arms were longer than hers, though, and he was just inches from grabbing the snitch. 

She could’ve just shoulder checked him to throw him off balance like she had seen him do so many times, but at the same time, he could’ve as well--but he wasn’t. 

In a sudden stroke of creativity, Y/N dived down , throwing Draco’s attention off just enough to lag behind for the briefest of seconds. Darting forward, her fingers managed to close around something cold and vibrating with energy.

“HUFFLEPUFF HAS CAUGHT THE--”

<>

Her head was heavy in the middle and light at the sides. Had it always been like that, or was she just hyperaware of the fact?

Her surroundings were dimly lit with a single candle, but even that hurt her eyes as they fluttered open. She vaguely recognized that it had to be nightime--wherever she was. Y/N tried to sit up, whimpering as the small of her back ached. 

“Whoa, slow down,” a familiar voice cautioned. It was posh and male, but she couldn’t quite place it. 

“Mmmhmm.” Her acknowledgement of the person speaking to her was unrefined and embarrassing, but she didn’t care. Whoever it was clearly cared enough to watch over her.

The memories came flooding back...the sensation of the snitch humming in her hands, Draco flying next to her, awe written all over his pretty face..but then the white hot sensation in her back, the sudden halt of her broomstick, the rushing motion as she plummeted to the ground...the boneshattering impact, the sounds of Draco wailing for help...

But then it cut off there. 

With newfound energy, Y/N hoisted herself up, taking in more of her surroundings. It was most certainly at some hour in the night in the Hospital Wing. A figure sat at the chair next to her bed, and a candle illuminated the currtain surrounding her. 

She squinted at the figure. “Who are you? I can’t see.”

“Oh.”

Dark arms rustled about, pulling out a wand and whispering Lumos. A ball of light revealed a very disheveled looking Draco Malfoy. Y/N gasped.

“Sh, you’ll wake Pomfrey up,” he whispered. “It wasn’t me who hexed you. It was Harper.”

Y/N blinked up at him. “I know.”

“You do?” 

He stared at her for a few seconds, his mouth agape.

“Of course I do, I heard you yelling for help. I wouldn’t do that to someone who just hexed me.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Bet you wish you took that bribe now, huh?”

Y/N snorted. “No. I won.”

Draco just shrugged again. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great.”

“I figured.” He shifted in his seat a bit. “Listen, I...er...”

“What?”

He scooted forward just a few feet. “I’m sorry for trying to bribe you. I’ll be honest, I was just kind of looking for a reason to talk to you. Winning this match would’ve just been the cherry on top.”

“You...what?” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Stop it right now. What did Pomfrey give me? She must have me on some hard stuff...wow...”

He laughed, leaning forward even more. Y/N could smell a clean whiff of pine and black tea. “No, no, you’re not on pain potions. That I know of, at least.”

“So you’re telling me the truth?”

“Why would I wait her for...I don’t even know how many hours for you to wake up only to lie to you?”

“You were here for the entire time?”

“I mean, I had to shower and eat, but yeah, basically.” He cleared his throat, carding his hand through his hair. “I find you kind of interesting. Always have. Is it a crime to want to get to know you more?”

“I must be dreaming,” Y/N muttered, turning her eyes up to the ceiling. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

“My parents aren’t as strict on half-bloods,” he hastily said. “And your academic and athletic record kind of...outshine the fact that you’re a Hufflepuff.”

“Charming,” Y/N responded dryly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that...” He wrung his hands together, gazing down at them instead of meeting her eyes. “I’m saying that I have...I don’t know, a soft spot for you? And if you feel the same way, I think it’d be, er, interesting to maybe see where this goes.”

“You’re saying that you have a crush on me?” 

The abruptness of her comment caused her to shyly look away at the ground. 

“No, look at me,” he murmured. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Y/N let out a lengthy exhale.

“What is it?”

“Could you tell? That I’ve had a massive crush on you since, well, forever?”

He shakily laughed. “Oh, thank god.”

“Well, could you?”

“Hm.” Draco thought for a few moments, placing an elbow on her bed so he could rest his chin in his hand. “Yeah, kind of. I couldn’t tell if I was overanalyzing everything, though.”

“You weren’t,” she assured him, turning to face him again.

He stared at her for a few seconds, his soft grey eyes wide with wonder. Inching his free hand closer to her, he paused. “May I?”

She smiled then, ignoring how her face hurt. “I mean, you waited hours for it.”

“No,” he corrected. “Years.”

With that, he gently slipped her hand into his, rubbing slow circles onto it as she drifted off to sleep. 

final a/n: me: so i’m not posting any more imagines until i’m literally into college and an adult! also me: here’s a fic i wrote in two hours because i couldn’t focus on my sat prep! also so so so sorry for any spelling mistakes/plot holes/grammatical errors in here. i just slammed this one out

[themusicplayedherlife]

Of Warmth and Growth

pairing: dick grayson x f!reader characters: reader, the team, dick grayson word count: 7.7k+ warnings: angst, self doubt, and boat load of fluff summary: dealing with a broken heart isn’t easy, but your friend megan is hoping to get you out of that fink by inviting you to her holiday party where you meet someone that might help you move on. a/n: there’s a whole story behind this--originally this was started as a requested oneshot, but i couldn’t bring myself to finish it, so i revamped it and wrote a different story that i posted some time ago. fast forward to november, i made it my goal to finish this before the new year, and i was so close, too, but family took priority. there might also be a disconnect, but I really tried smoothing it over, hopefully I did well. anyway, better late than never, though?

Happy Harbour

December 7, 2019

“Sometimes it’s very hard to move on, but once you move on, you’ll realize it was the best decision you’ve ever made. You’ll see.”

You want to laugh bitterly at Megan’s words, but her sympathetic smile and warm gaze are holding you back from doing so. She’s only trying to help, you’re reminded by your conscious as she continues to spew words of healing and bullshit. Utter bullshit. 

Your bitterness wins and you say, “I know,” wanting nothing more than for her to shut up. 

Her smile turns sheepish and she pats your hand affectionately before excusing herself to get more coffee, or to get away from you. You wouldn’t blame her if it was the latter, you haven’t exactly been good company to keep around since your break up.

Sighing, your eyes trail to the world on the other side of the small cafe’s window. It’s bustling and full of people with shopping bags, all of them preparing for the holidays. It really is a different world outside, you muse. Everything inside the coffee shop is warmer and cozier—quieter compared to the outside. It almost, almost makes you forget about your broken heart that was ripped and stomped on by the person you thought loved and cared for you, things that you still, unfortunately, feel for them.

Your red-haired friend comes back with two styrofoam cups instead of one, and she sets one down in front of you, taking her seat across from you once more. “I got you another earl grey.”

You pick up the warm styrofoam, enjoying the heat against your palm. “Thank you.”

Megan doesn’t say anything for once, instead she watches the world with you, letting only the soft jazz of the cafe to envelop you. You can tell she’s going over something in her mind, she’s never this quiet unless she’s thinking, and that’s—usually—never a good thing, at least not when it pertains to you. 

It’s not until you’re halfway done with your drink that she finally speaks, having grown restless with her thinking. She’s looking at you, her eyes narrowed and a little shaky, never really making contact with your own, but still facing your direction. “Sooo, I was thinking,” she drawls, “Conner and I are inviting some of our old friends over for a little get together this weekend and I thought, hey, maybe I can convince my best friend in the whole universe to finally meet my other friends, you know, I want us all to be friends and—“

“You’re rambling.”

“Right; sorry. It’s not going to be a huge thing, just a few of us watching crappy movies and drinking spiked eggnog, maybe play some games or something.” She reaches for your hand holding your drink and finally meets your eyes. “And I really want you to be there. What do you say, huh?”

“Megan,” you start warningly.

She raises a hand as a peace sign. “I know, I know! You said you wanted to keep a low profile this holiday season, but I really want to introduce you. They’re really nice people, a little odd, but so am I and you’re still my friend!”

You purse your lips, mulling over the idea. “Are the girls going to be there?”

“Yes! Well, Karen will be, I’m not sure about Wendy, yet. Should probably ask her tonight.”

Again, you think it over. Not only will you be in a small, confined space with a lot of people (she might have said it wasn’t going to be huge, but you and her have different definitions for small and huge), you’re going to be stuck in a confined space with strangers. It doesn’t sound very pleasing, but then again, you haven’t been very pleasant and there’s no denying that you always dodged her past intents to get you and her friends to hang out, and yet, she’s still here, trying to cheer you up. 

You owe it to her. 

“Okay, I’ll go.” She immediately squeals. Loudly. Blushing, you look around the cafe, and just as you feared, everyone in the small cafe is looking at you. You sigh, lifting a hand to stop her from over exerting herself—and from embarrassing you any further. “Just don’t expect me to bring anything.”

“That’s fine! That’s fine! As long as you bring yourself, I’m content.”

You’re going to regret it, you just know it.

Happy Harbour

December 14, 2019

You tug at the hem of your outfit, uncomfortable. You could hear the loud laughter of the people inside accompanied by the soft hum of Megan’s holiday playlist. In your hand is a Tupperware full of brigadeiro, a Brazilian dessert your grandma used to make for the holidays before she completely quit eating sweet things (in front of your mom anyway).

Fingers tighten around the container. Maybe you should go... You could always deal with an angry Megan later. 

“Are you going to go in or are you just going to stare at the wreath all night?” A deep, amused voice registers in your mind and your body jerks in response, almost making you drop the Tupperware if it weren’t for the steady hand holding you against their strong, chest. “Whoa, there!” he exclaims, warm air fanning over your neck. “You all right?”

He doesn’t allow you to pull away until he steadies you, making sure you’re upright before letting you go. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out. “Thank you.”

He chuckles and you whirl around to meet your assailant and savior—and holy fuck is he gorgeous. They were gorgeous, too, but in that average kind of way. Nothing about them stood out to people, but to you? They were the most beautiful person you had ever seen. But this man in front of you, you had to be stupid not to notice how gorgeous he is. Striking blue eyes peering into you, a mischievous glint in them and matched by the lopsided smirk adorning his face; unruly black locks in waves and falling to one side as he runs his fingers through his hair. There’s something distinctly boyish and alluring about him that it renders you speechless.

“Megan never told me she had such a gorgeous friend,” he suddenly says. Or maybe not so suddenly because you’re sure his mouth had been moving before you allowed yourself to fall under his spell.

Hold on. 

Wait a second.

Gorgeous?

Did he really just call you gorgeous, too?

Your throat closes and your eyes widen, hopefully not comically or at all because holy shit. A really gorgeous man just called you gorgeous. The last person to ever compliment was your mom. But she’s your mom. She’s supposed to think you’re pretty good looking. And before that it was them. And realizing it now, they probably never even meant it. So this? This is new and weird and what the fuck are you supposed to say to something like that to someone like him. “I—“ 

A draft of air hits your back as the door is swung open behind you. The Christmas music that Megan has been preparing since June is louder than before without the door closed.

“You’re here,” she squeals, wrapping her arms from behind you, her chin settling on your shoulder. “I’m so happy you came!” She kisses your cheek messily and something sweet and alcoholic fills your nostrils. “And you brought something!”

“Yeah, yeah! Don’t make it a thing.” You laugh, pulling away as she makes a show of having to let you go. “How much eggnog have you had?” 

“Not too much.” Her eyes turn to the other guest and her eyes brighten. “Dick!” Dick? What kind of name is Dick? Was his mom angry at his dad? Noticing your stare, he smiles down at you, amusement never leaving his face before he turns to Megan. “You’re here! Wally and the others are already here.” She moves away from the door to let you both in.

Dick gestures to the inside of her apartment. “After you.”

Blinking owlishly, you thank him and enter the loud apartment full of people you don’t recognize—well, mostly of people you don’t recognize. There’s Karen and Mal by the Christmas tree talking to a redhead and a blonde, who Dick makes his way over to after excusing himself. Wendy is with Marvin by the snack table, the two arguing—really it's Marvin arguing—about which dessert is the best for the holidays, and a few other really gorgeous and fit people. Why are all of her friends ridiculously good looking?

“You okay?” Megan asks, her hand settling on your shoulder and squeezing lightly.

Your head swivels in her direction. “What?”

“You were frowning,” she says softly. “Hey, if I forced you to be here—“

“No,” you interrupt her quickly. “No, I’m glad you invited me, I just—I’ll be okay. I promise. You were right about me having to move on. I can’t avoid society forever because of a broken heart. I just need to get used to… this,” you say, moving your eyes around the party of people that seemed to already be coupled off.

She smiles gently but doesn’t seem all that convinced. “I’m right here if you need me, okay?” She takes the Tupperware from your hands. “Come on, let's say hi to everyone.” When you bristle, as you take off your coat, she laughs. “In moderation.”

An hour into the party and you’ve already become acquainted with mostly everyone at the party. You meet Wally and Artemis, the couple who were with Karen and Mal when you first arrived; Raquel and her baby boy, Amistad. Cassie and Tim; Jaime and Bart; Gar and some really weird guy who keeps glaring at Conner; Kaldur, who looks strangely familiar—and only smiles when you mention it before being pulled away by Megan—and Barbara, who eyes you momentarily before flashing you a warm smile. She’s a little intimidating, if you’re being honest.

There are still a few more people you have yet to meet, but you seriously need a break, and you say as much to Megan.

“You said a little party,” you say accusingly, as if you hadn’t known this was her definition of small.

She laughs, her arm hooked around yours as she pulls you towards the spread of food and drinks. “It is little!” She lets go of you, opens the treats you made and places them between all the others. She then grabs a clean cup to fill it with eggnog before handing it to you. “Here! Conner and I made it, so it might not be… good.”

You take a tentative sip of the thick liquid made out of egg and spices and doused with alcohol and holy fuck do you regret it. “You and Conner made this?” you sputter, the taste of bourbon lingering strongly on your tongue.

She pouts. “The recipe called for a ton of bourbon to counteract the sweetness!”

You pull the cup away and eye the liquid with scrutiny. “Did you put a whole bottle of Bourbon from Costco in here?”

“Yes?” she answers, a little unsure. “Probably. I don’t actually remember.”

Conner comes up from behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. “Enjoying yourselves?” 

She tilts her head to kiss him on his cheek continuously and smiles. “Always.” 

You avert your gaze. 

“It’s good to see you again,” Conner addresses you after they’ve had their fill of small pecks. Honestly, you don’t blame them for being so affectionate and in love. It wasn’t that long ago that the two finally decided to give each other another chance after a falling out that Megan still doesn’t want to talk about. And again, you don’t blame her. You don’t want to talk about the reason why you and your ex broke up either, let alone think about it. 

You hum and reluctantly move your gaze back to their interlocked embrace. You manage a smile. “Same to you. Been a while hasn’t it?” 

Before he can reply, Gar interrupts with a call of their names. He’s standing near the fireplace with Bart, leaning over something. “Come check this out!”

Megan wiggles out of Conner’s hold and instead grabs his hand to lead him towards the boys. “Don’t go anywhere!”

Conner flashes an exasperated glance at you over his shoulder, which you return, before he wraps his arms around Megan again—the two laughing and joking about who knows what as they close the distance between them and the boys.

Sighing, you take another sip of the eggnog and your face scrunches in response to the liquid coating your tongue. “Bleh.”

“Fell victim to the spiked eggnog, I see,” a voice cuts through your thoughts as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Eyes snap up to meet the familiar, amused gaze of Dick. “Uh, yeah.”

He offers you a different mug and you eye it suspiciously. He chuckles. “It’s just apple cider, I promise.”

You reluctantly relent, taking the mug he offers as he takes the one you had been drinking. You take a sip, and surprisingly enough, it really is apple cider, no alcohol at all. “Oh, god, thank you.”

He flashes you a pearly smile, and takes a sip of the eggnog without grimacing. “So, how did you meet Megan and Conner?”

“Oh, um, from school. We went to the same high school.” He quirks an eyebrow. “I was a year below them, but I became friends with Megan when she joined the cheerleading team. My friendship with Conner just followed naturally after that.”

His eyes brighten, as if what you’re saying is actually interesting. “Really?”

You curl a piece of loose hair behind your ear. “Uh, yeah. What about you? How did you meet them?”

“Oh, through our families,” he supplies, a little detached, as if it weren’t really important. “Most of us met like that.”

You frown, but try to hide it behind the rim of the mug. “Wow. Then you must’ve known Megan for quite some time, then?”

His eyes flicker to your lips and his turn upwards. “Actually, I’ve probably known her for about the same amount of time as you.”

Wait. If that's true…“Does that mean you went to the Halloween disaster of 2016?” You remember Megan telling you she would be inviting her friends to the dance, and you heard that she did. Maybe he was among them?

He snorts. “Is that what they’re calling it?” You nod eagerly, hoping to hear his side of what happened that night.

“No.” You deflate, and he huffs a laugh. “I wasn’t able to go, had plans that night. Did you?”

You pout, the disappointment you felt at missing that night coming to mind. “Unfortunately, no. I was sick, but I heard from Marvin and the others that it was a night to remember.”

You don’t get to ask him more questions because as soon as you open your mouth, the front door opens to reveal a beautiful girl with dark, raven hair in delicate waves and bright blue eyes entering the room. Immediately, everyone (excluding you, Marvin and Wendy—wtf Karen?) recognizes her and greet her with a loud exclaim of her name, “Zatanna!”

Dick turns to you and you already know that he’s about to excuse himself. “Do you mind if—“ 

You shake your head interrupting him with, “No, no, go ahead.”

Surprisingly, he reaches for your arm and squeezes gently. “I’ll be right back.”

You blink after him and mutter, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Be right back” doesn’t happen. He stays by the pretty girl’s side, the two of them being overly familiar with one another—tight hugs, continuous small touches, long eye contact, leaning against one another. You wouldn’t be surprised if they dated at some point, to be honest; or maybe they are dating—ugh. Why does the thought of it bother you?

“You all right?” Wendy softly asks, her kind eyes full of worry and briefly moving to Karen by the entrance.

What’s that about?

You try to keep from frowning. “I think I just need some fresh air,” you assure her.

“Do you want me to come with you?” 

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll just be out for a moment, besides—“ you flick your eyes to Marvin by the dessert table stuffing his face with walnut bread—“I think you’d better stay to make sure Marvin doesn’t eat all the walnut bread.”

“Oh—damn it, Marvin!” She sighs ready to chastise her boyfriend, but she pauses to look at you. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You hum in agreement and watch as she saunters over to Marvin before turning on your heels and stepping out through the sliding doors leading to the balcony.

The cold winter air bites your skin, your long sleeved turtleneck not enough to combat the cold, but just thinking about going back inside makes you try to suck it up. You cover your mouth with your sleeve as you lean against the railing—Happy Harbor lights glinting brightly in the dark. 

Maybe you should leave. You’ve been here a good amount of time to deem acceptable, right? You’ve met some of Megan’s friends and even talked to a few of them for a while, and you didn’t show an ounce of disgruntlement—as far as you know—so you should be good right?

An ache fills your chest, pulsing slowly as you let out a long sigh. God, what happened to you? You weren’t always like this. So closed off and unwilling to spend time with your friends. You’ve practically been unconsciously ignoring Karen and Mal, attaching yourself to Megan when she is alone, or staying with Marvin and Wendy because they act least like a couple compared to your old classmates. And the moment the one person you’ve talked to for an extended period of time at the party joins his pretty friend, you become bitter about it! 

You need help.

Something heavy lands on your shoulders and back, strong cologne filling your nostrils and making you jump.

“Woah, easy, it’s just me.”

Startling blue eyes twinkle with mischief and your shoulders drop, heat combatting the cold air. “Anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on people?”

He just grins and settles in the space beside you, eyes sweeping over the town you grew up in. “My job kind of requires that I do.”

You slip your arms through the sleeves of his coat, ignoring the fact that it’s not exactly your size. It’s warm anyway. “Thank you.” You lean forward, tightening the coat to fit you snuggly. “What kind of job requires you to have ninja like stealth?”

He chuckles, meeting your gaze. “I’m an officer at Bludhaven PD, trying to become detective.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Bludhaven? Really?”

He hums, elbow resting on the railing and cupping his cheek.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Gotham has its norierty, but so does Bludhaven. It was basically untapped, scandals and crimes hidden behind a veil created by corrupt officials, until a couple of years ago when it all came to light with Nightwing’s arrival.

“Yeah,” he drawls, mulling it over, “but what isn’t? Anything can be dangerous if you think about it.” He leans closer to you. “Where do you work?”

“Happy Harbour Times, Opinions.”

“Then you must have to deal with a lot of angry readers when you write about something they don’t agree with, right? Threats and angry phone calls and letters. Those can be dangerous, too, right?” he asks cheekily.

You laugh, ducking your head. “I guess you’re right.” There’s still no comparing writing articles to police work, no matter how light of a situation Dick is trying to make it. “Why police work, though? It’s not many people’s first choice. Especially in Bludhaven.”

He shrugs. “Always been interested, I guess.” He leans back, hands holding onto the railing and causing his blue cable knit sweater to wrap tightly around his arm muscles. “My guardian…” Now, that’s an interesting choice of words. “He was—is a fan of mysteries.” His voice is far off, stuck in his jar of memories. “When he took me in, we’d used to solve cases together, most of them taking place in Gotham, where I was raised.” He chuckles. “And I guess from there I just… I just decided I wanted to be a cop.”

“I see... And you decided not to become a cop in Gotham?”

“Gotham has good people looking out for her already.”

“She could always use more.” He cracks a smile, blue eyes twinkling with the city lights as they find yours, and you return it shyly. “But I get it. Bludhaven has become yours, in a way. Separate from your… guardian.”

“In a way,” he repeats, and you have to look away from or else your heart will stop. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

He nudged your shoulder with his. “Happy Harbour Times?”

“Ah.” Your breath comes out in a puff, the night air still growing colder by the hour, but you don’t mind it. Dick doesn’t seem to mind either. “Well, when I was a kid, my third grade teacher told my parents I was a really good writer. So, they got me into workshops and short story competitions,” you recall, remembering the constant competitions your parents would sign you up for without your knowledge sometimes. They did it with good intentions, hoping to help hone your skill, but it was too much sometimes. “Truth is, I hated it. Never really liked… fiction, I guess? Don’t get me wrong, give me a good fiction novel and I will read it for days, but… it… it just wasn’t me,” you confess locking your fingers in place. 

“I was about ready to give up on writing when my tenth grade English teacher assigned us a topic to write about and I guess I fell in love with the research and being able to go out and interview people.”

“Yeah? And what was it that you wrote about?”

You bite your lip and find Dick staring at you, a curious glimmer in his eyes. “Don’t laugh?” He promises he won’t. “Robin.”

He chokes on his saliva, eyes growing in disbelief. “As in Batman’s Robin?”

You tuck strands of hair behind your ear, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yeah, um, the prompt was about vigilantes and I chose to write about him instead of the Flash, Batman, Wonder Woman and whoever else everyone wrote about.”

“Why?”

You shrug, trying your best to mask your embarrassment with a blase attitude. “Fighting crime with Batman? That was pretty cool, you know? He was living every kid’s dream.”

“Was he?” he asks, voice soft.

“He was!” you confess, smile blooming on your face as a memory of you and your friends playing as the superhero sidekicks comes to mind. It’s some of your best memories from elementary school. “But I didn’t want to just write about the good. He was a kid seeing some fucked up shit, after all.” You pause to look at him, only to find he’s not looking at you, but at the city lights. There’s something… wistful and forlorn in those blue eyes of his, and you wonder if he’s thinking back on his time in Gotham, seeing Boy Wonder up close and personal. “Being Robin must’ve taken its toll on him, both mentally and physically. 

“And I wanted to write about that. Even had my parents drive up to Gotham for the weekend so I could do some snooping, maybe even find Boy Wonder myself.”

Finally he reacts, lips twitching as he turns to look at you. “And how’d that go?”

“I learned that the citizens of Gotham really hate being asked questions.” He chuckles and you smile. “But those who did answer... you can tell they were grateful for him and worried about him. The kid really touched people’s hearts, whether they agreed with his nightly activities with Batman or not.” You tilt your head, watching his eyes light up with your words. “It’s just a shame I didn’t get to interview Robin himself.” You grab hold of the railing and lean forward. “But I’d doubt he’d have given me the time of day if I had gotten the chance to ask him. Probably too busy saving babies and punching villains with Batman.”

“I’m sure he would have made time for you.” Your fingers slip from the metal to turn to look at him, unsure of his sincerity. “How could he not?” His cheeks have become flushed with the cold, nose bright and blue eyes stark against his skin.

You smile, but you’re sure it looks more like an awkward grimace. “You’re just saying that.” 

“I’m not.” He frowns, sincere eyes knocking your breath away. “I know if he knew someone as sincere as you wanted to ask him some questions for their article, he would have dropped whatever he was doing to help you.”

You don’t know why you stand there, waiting for him to laugh in your face and say his punchline. You don’t know why he just stands there and stares back at you, quiet and shining with sincerity that he’s trying to penetrate into your being. It’s weird and totally unnecessary, but maybe a part of you is desperate to know if he’s really being sincere and a part of him is desperate for you to know he is.

“Hey!” Megan’s voice break through the trance you’re both in. Her head barely poking out into the cold and green eyes narrowing. “Get in here before you both catch something!”

Dick chuckles, attention moving from her to you. “Should we head in?”

You nod mutely, smiling tight lipped.

As you follow Megan inside, the only thing on your mind is that you might have already caught something.

Bludhaven

December 15, 2020

“You’re really not coming home for the Holidays this year?”

Megan is pouting on your computer screen, but you hardly pay her any attention. You have an article on Bludhaven’s growing homelessness due in the morning and you still have some revisions to do. Your little mishap earlier today took time that you were reserving for this article and now you’re running behind.

“‘Fraid not,” you tell her, your voice accompanied by the clicking of your keyboard. “I’ve been overloaded with a ridiculous amount of work this month and I need to get it done before the end of the year.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see her scavenging through boxes of decorations. “Won’t your mom be disappointed you won’t be coming home?”

“Nope,” you pop the “p” as you rewrite a fragment. “She’s coming down to see me instead.”

She stops, head lifting like a prairie dog on alert. “So it’s just going to be you two this year?”

“Maybe. Dick said he might stop by, but he’s not sure.”

“Ooh,” her teasing rings through your quiet bedroom and you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like that, Megan.” You wished it were like that, but it’s not, and maybe it’s for the best. Dick became one of your good friends since the party last year and one of your best friends after you volunteered for a transfer to Bludhaven’s Times earlier this year. You don’t want to mess with what you have, not right now when your life feels perfectly balanced.

“Don't let the person who didn't love you keep you from the person who will,” she says, sounding serious as hell and making you snort and pause in your typing. “Hey! Don’t laugh at my words of wisdom!”

“This has nothing to do with them, Megan. When I said I was finally over them, I meant it.” The moment you were able to look at an old tagged picture of you and them on their friends’ Instagram and you felt nothing, no numbness, no anger nor sadness, just a strange vagueness as if they were a stranger, you knew you were over them. “Dick and I… we like where we are.”

“Boo.”

Conner appear on screen and shakes his head as he wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t listen to her. I respect your decision.”

She rolls her eyes, playfully pushing his head out of the screen. “I respect your decision too, doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

“Heckling does not equate respect, babe.”

You laugh at their antics, their displays of affections no longer bothering you. Now, when you see them you just feel happy, happy for them and for you. Bitterness long gone from your bones, and there’s one person you can thank for that.

Your phone on your desk dings.

Dick 🥳🤩: Chinese food 2nite?

You: only if you promise to get extra egg rolls 

Dick 🥳🤩: Got’chu, omw.

“You’re smiling! Why are you smiling? It’s Dick, isn’t it? It’s totally Dick.”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your face neutral but knowing you’re doing horribly at it. “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait, is he coming over?” She gushes, and Conner is back on screen, trying to wrestle the phone out of her grip.

You laugh when you hear a curse from Conner. “I have an article to finish, Megan.”

“You can’t just leave me hanging like this—“

All right, you’ve had enough. “Bye, Megan!”

Megan🧡: 😨 You hung up on me?

Megan🧡: 😡😡

Megan🧡: Expecting deets tomorrow ❤️

You: goodnight, megan!

It doesn’t take long for Dick to arrive and for you to shove your article aside—you’re almost done with it anyway, nothing wrong with a little break.

The door jingles and as you begin to clear your coffee table—where you and Dick usually eat dinner—of your paperwork, it opens to reveal Dick still wearing his uniform. You smile up at him briefly, gathering everything and taking it over to your round, small dining table that could probably fit four people if you really tried to squeeze them in. “Hey! Let me just grab some plates and we can—“

Before you can finish your sentence, or head into the kitchen, a hand wraps around your wrist, worried crystallized blue eyes staring into you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were almost mugged?”

Ah, hell. 

The crack in his voice makes your heart drop to your stomach and your eyes fall down to his ugly black shoes that you make fun of every chance you get just to hear his laugh. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Which isn’t a lie. Since you moved to Bludhaven, Dick has been checking up on you more often and even picking you up from work if he has the chance—“Bludhaven isn’t like Happy Harbor. It’s… tougher and harder,” he had said after offering to teach you some self defense moves. You had laughed and said you could handle yourself, but accepted it anyway if it meant spending more time with him.

Today was just bad luck, he was on the other side of the city and you had chosen to take the bus to work that day and hadn’t been paying attention. Next thing you know, you’re being threatened to give your purse up.

His warm fingers leave your wrist and instead they find your chin. Gingerly, he lifts your head to force you to meet his gaze. “When Rohrbach called me on my way here to check up on you because she was worried, I swear my heart almost stopped.” His eyes shine with worry and there’s a twisting in your gut. “What if Louie hadn’t been nearby, huh?”

“I’m okay, Dick,” you reassure him, wanting nothing more than to lean against him, maybe have his lips press a kiss on your forehead. “I handled him pretty well. Used those self defense moves you taught me.” It was why you were able to shake him off and run to the nearest officer for help. Dick inadvertently saved you.

He finally smiles. “Yeah, Rohrbach said you left him pretty bruised up.” His hand under your chin moves to smooth out your hair before cupping the back of your head and pressing you against him. “I need you to be more careful, sweetheart. Need you to be safe.”

Your heart bursts in your chest at the pet-name and you wrap your arms around his waist, fisting the jacket of his uniform tightly. His cologne makes you dizzy—ginger and spices for the holiday. “Only if you promise to stay safe, too.”

“I’ll do my best.” His soft lips land on your forehead briefly before he’s pulling away and you restrain yourself from chasing after him. “Let’s eat? You must be starving.”

“A little,” you admit, and let him pull you toward the couch. “Eating out of the cartons today?”

He flashes you a grin. “Why not?”

As you both settle next to each other on the floor, back being supported by your old couch and you turn on your television as he pulls out the food he bought, you can’t help but think that even if your relationship stay like this with Dick, you wouldn’t mind it.

Bludhaven

December 31, 2020

You check your watch for the umptenth time.

He’s late.

Everyone around you is celebrating, filling the bar with laughter and talk, most of it incoherent over the loud music and the inebriated state most of them are in. You’re only a few hours away from the New Year and people are already drunk out of their minds—this doesn’t spell trouble for the night whatsoever.

Dick 🥳🤩 (7)

7 outgoing calls, all unanswered and completely unlike him. Sure, sometimes he doesn’t answer your calls when he’s busy, that’s a given, but he always sends you a message if he’s going to be late or apologizes for not being able to answer your call. This just not like Dick. 

You try calling one more time, covering one ear with your palm  to hear the ringing, but just like before, you get sent to voicemail. Worry begins to over take your annoyance. You grab your bag and quickly make your way out of the crowded bar, not caring about the warm bodies complaining.

Driving to his place takes you about thirty minutes with traffic, and you occasionally find yourself cursing at other drivers and yourself. It’s a miracle you don’t get into an accident or pulled over. With his garage key that he gave you, you open the gate and make your way to the space that has become yours over the last couple of months with how much you visit him. 

Locking your car with a simple click of the key fob, you power walk to the elevator. One last time, you try calling him, hoping he’ll answer and apologize for being late, but once again it sends you to voicemail just as the elevator doors open on his floor. 

“Please be okay,” you whisper to yourself.

Taking out your copy of the key, you slowly insert it and tentatively call out to him as you open the door.

No answer.

You strain your hearing as you swear you hear some shuffling and thumping, but that noise could just be coming from down the hall. He does have some noisy neighbors. 

You enter the apartment and close the door behind you. “Dick?”

There’s a crash and you jump, your heart in your throat, but the familiar string of curses eases your fear. You follow the noise and come face to face with a wide eyed Dick shirtless covered in nasty forming bruises in the middle of his bathroom.

A whimper escapes your lips and you rush forward, cupping his face in your hand. “What the hell happened to you? I thought you managed to get the night off?” You turn his head this way and that, and then push him back by grabbing his shoulder to look at his torso and back. Only letting go when he winces at a particularly hard tug. “Oh shit! I’m sorry!”

He grabs your wrists not allowing you to give him space. “You’re not blushing,” he says cheekily, his eyes twinkling even with the slowly forming bruise.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why would I be—“ Your eyes drag down to his naked torso peppered with old wounds and spanking brand new bruises and you immediately feel a wave of heat spreading through your body. “Oh.”

He laughs softly, chuckling almost, low and a sweet timbre. 

But when your eyes fall lower, you’re doused in cold water, black, almost skin tight material—unitard?—and a black holster wrapped around his right leg greeting you. This isn’t his police uniform! What is he wearing? And why does it look like kevlar? “Why are you—“

You’re not allowed a moment to ask because Dick pulls you towards him with a tug of your wrists and you fall against his chest, barely bracing yourself as he wraps his arms around your waist, large hands flat against your back.

“Dick?”

“I’m okay,” he murmurs airily into your hair and you don’t know what to do, you’re pretty sure he can feel and hear your pacing heart. 

You repeat his name, trying to pull away from him to look into his eyes. He doesn’t let you. 

He inhales. “Just give me a moment and I’ll answer any questions you might have.”

You sigh, warm air brushing against his bare skin, and the hands that braced yourself on the kitchen sink wrap around his torso loosely. “What happened?”

Circles are traced on your shirt, one hand climbing higher to cradle the back of your head. “Remember the guy who tried to rob you?” You nod and hum, remembering that crooked nosed, pale skin idiot who thought you’d be an easy target. “He escaped during transfer today with the help of some of his friends, and I went after them. Off record.”

You pull away from him and look up at him with wide eyes and slack jaw to find his serious gaze on you, lips pulled down into a thin line. “What do you mean off record?” Your throat closes and the back of your nose stings—he went after them ‘cause that man tried hurting you? “Dick, what if something happened—”

His eyes bore into you and his thumb find purchase on your face, tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “It's just a couple of scratches and bruises. I’m okay. I promise.”

You blink back your tears and lean into his touch. “You still shouldn’t have gone by yourself!”

“I didn’t,” he says softly. “I went with a friend.”

Your nose scrunches, your eyes still watery. “Rohrbach?”

He shakes his head. “No. Better, Robin.”

“Robin?” You try to remember if he’s ever mentioned anyone named Robin at the precinct, but you’re pretty sure he hasn’t—“Wait. Robin? As in Batman’s Robin?” His gaze doesn’t change, it remains serious and your heart leaps in your chest. “You really know Robin?”

He finally cracks a smile and you’re half expecting him to say he’s joking (you don’t know which is worse, him joking about knowing Robin when he’s aware how much admiration teen you had for him or finding out that he really went after that thug and his friends on his own!), but instead he answers with a simple, “Yeah.”

“Dick, if you’re—“

He chuckles, his thumb that had been tracing your cheekbone dragging down to your bottom lip, slowly tracing the swell. You would have melted if there weren’t more pressing matters at hand. “I’m not playing with you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fall to his torso and down to his pants and the hanging arms of his unitard and they snap back up, alarmed. “Are you—does this mean you’re also a—“ you can’t even form a proper sentence, the rushing of your blood flowing through your head and ears drown out your thoughts and voice.

His hands drop from your frame and you take a step back as he adjusts the unitard, slipping into it only to have you gasping at the familiar symbol on his chest—Nightwing.

Without waiting for his permission, your fingers trace the symbol, the material under your fingers soft and somehow firm. A deep ache blooms in your chest, your nose wrinkling and Dick reacts quickly, cupping your face with his now covered hands, and you’d laugh any other time at the fact that his suit is falling forward and down his arms, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself from crying.

It all makes sense now! His double shifts and all the injuries—gods. How could you have been so blind?

He rubs the corner of your eyes and coos gently, worry swimming in his eyes and honestly, that’s not fair! You’re the only one allowed to be worried right now! “Hey, hey, why are you crying, huh? What’s wrong?”

Your head falls forward and Dick leans down to press his forehead against yours. “This isn’t going to make me worry less about you, Dick.” Your fingers wrap around his thick forearms. “You promised you were going to try staying safe and this,” you pause to sigh, refusing to meet his eyes, ”this isn’t going to keep you safe.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the space between you. “I’m sorry I’m going to make you worry. I’m sorry I’m making you cry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you say with a sniffle, because it doesn’t. You don’t care that he didn’t tell you he was Nightwing or that he allowed you to gush about Robin when he’s always known who that is. What matters is that now you know Dick is out every night as Nightwing risking his life and you’re not happy about that. That’s what matters.

“But I won’t break my promise.” You squeeze his arm. “I promised you I would try, and ever since that night, I’ve done my best to keep to that, and I always will.” His nose bumps against yours, trying to get you to look at you and you do, suddenly aware of the lack of space between you. “I have someone to come home to now.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and your heart pounds against your rib cage. You’re no longer okay being just friends with Dick, not when he says things like that and when he’s looking at you like this either—like you’re the only thing that matters and all he wants is to keep you trapped in his arms (you wouldn’t fight him if he tried).

Before you can voice anything, coherent or incoherent, your mouth is sealed shut by a paid of chapped lips. It’s a small peck, but it’s enough to send a tumble of acrobats into a frenzy. And all you want is to feel his lips against yours again, and so you meet him halfway after a shallow collection of breath.

Lips move in tandem, heads tilting this way and that and it’s all very much like the passionate romcom movie kisses you’ve seen over the years, the kind you’d dream about every time Dick would kiss different parts of your face and never your lips. It’s all fire and sweetness, like fireworks on a hot summers’ day and watermelon juice dripping down your chin.

A loud boom echoes in the quiet night and you jerk away from Dick, eyes snapping to his bedroom entrance, the windows covered with blinds allowing the bright flashes of light to filter in.

“Did we miss the countdown?” you find yourself asking dumbly, a little breathless and mind still reeling from his intense kiss.

He presses another one to your temple, chuckling. “Does it matter?”

“It’s the New Year!” 

“Could really care less,” he grumbles, voice coming from deep in his chest as his lips dragging from the corner of your eyes to your lips, pulling you away from the firework show outside. “Too busy trying to make out with my gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” you tease in between kisses.

“Mhmm, have been trying to make her mine for a couple of months now, but she’s pretty clueless. ‘S supposed to be one of the best reporters in all of the tri state area, too.”

“Should’ve said something, Dick. I’m not a mind reader.”

He chuckles, pulling away from your lips for just a moment. “There’s something else you should know.”

“What?” you ask, a little hazily.

“I was Robin.”

And before you can ask him to elaborate on that or you’re allowed to be embarrassed, he closes the distance between you once more and kisses you senseless.

To think you thought you’d regret going to Megan’s a little over a year ago; if only the you from then could see you now, happy and moved on.

[julia-highstorms]

Midnight Talk (Tyril x Luxia (F!Elf))

Author’s note: I was missing a bit of closure between Tyril and MC before Chapter 7 and that kiss, so I wrote this short piece that takes place between chapters 6 and 7. Let me know your thoughts and/or if you'd like to be tagged on my Tyril x Luxia fanfics! Keep safe and wash your hands, people <3 My masterlist

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Rating: PG

Pairing: Tyril x Luxia (F!ElfMC)

Word count: +1.2K

The young elf tiptoed out to the deck, making no sound. Her party had left the cursed island for a couple days now, and they were heading to Undermount.

Although getting the second Shard had been successful, catching her sleep definitely has been unsuccessful. After a few hours blinking into darkness, trying to force herself to sleep, Luxia finally gave up. Mal, Nia and Threep were fast asleep, while Imtura was gladly piloting the Wraith, whistling some kind of a pirate lullaby to herself. Luxia looked around, knowing that Tyril was awake somewhere in the ship. She had already noticed that he rarely seemed to get a rest.

As she crossed the deck, the only thing she could hear was her heart beating hard on her ears and the waves gently swaying around the pirate ship. With a sudden move, she hid herself behind a giant wooden box, her light eyes focused on the tall and lonely figure gazing out to the night sky.

Luxia has been feeling all over the moon since Tyril agreed on being part of her little party of adventurers. She had lived among humans her whole life and only have met a few elves, but whenever she tried to get to know them, they would simply scorn at her and turn away.

So, having Tyril around was perfect. She wanted to know so many things about the elf realm, about their history, society, culture, everything. She wanted to know where she had came from. If he might had an idea of who might be her family, if she still had any. Who was her. And getting that information from a marvelous elf like Tyril was even better. 

But should she just go talk to him? Or wait for a moment? But when was the right moment? If she showed up suddenly, would that startle him? Would he be open to talk to her in the first place?

"I know you're there." - Luxia jumped in surprise to the sound of Tyril's voice.

"Uh, hi…" - she waved at him, a sheepish grin forming on her lips. He just raised a questioning eyebrow to her.

"Hello, Luxia."

That seemed welcoming enough to her and she crossed the ship to his direction. 

"Lovely night, isn't it?" - she asked casually, leaning against the railing. - "And what a view…" - she took a deep breath, enjoying the salty air of the ocean, the breeze on her face.

"It just seems to be an endless sea to me. But if you like it, be my guest." 

Luxia turned to face the tall elf beside her. They have known each other for a over a week now, and he wasn't exactly the most optimistic and sociable creature on Earth, but she knew that was his way of trying to be a bit sympathetic. He was as intimidating as he was fascinating. If Tyril didn't want to interact with you, he would simply grunt something in response before walking away to find a place where he could be left alone (he usually did this whenever Mal was near him). 

But he didn't leave this time. 

"...But I doubt you came here to talk about the ocean." - he pointed out, standing by her side.

Luxia chuckled softly, turning her back to the waters and crossing her arms, mimicking Tyril's pose. He always looked like he was stand watching.

"Clever. Very clever. You're right, I didn't come here to talk about the ocean. I came here to get to know more about the elven world, actually."- he said nothing, so she just continued. - "Its history, culture, customs, society, laws… everything you know. I was mostly raised among humans, so I don't know much about my… your… erm, our world." - he listened to her carefully as she babbled. Luxia felt her cheeks getting slightly hotter to the way Tyril stared back at her. He watched her with such intensity.... His eyes were as blue as the ocean around them itself, so blue that she felt herself getting lost in them… - "Plus, it would be good to know what to expect before reaching Undermount, right?" - she concluded abruptly, before she drowned herself into his eyes.

"There wasn't any elf in your village?"

"There were a few… but none of them ever wanted to talk about it. I guess they didn't know much about the elf world either. I don't know about them, but I've kind of always felt a little out of place, you know? And as I grew older, the feeling that I was different from humans just grew too."

Tyril finally looked at the young elf beside him. Not that he hadn't noticed her before. He had, obviously. Luxia was different from any other elf he had met before. First, although elves were known to be taller than humans, Luxia was shorter than an average elf, reaching the height of an average human girl. Her hair was as dark as the night, contrasting with her pale lilac skin and big bright emerald eyes.

Eyes that stared back at him with infinite curiosity. 

"Well… ask away. I'll see if I can help you."

The most dazzling smile spread out on Luxia's face as she first bumped the air. The taller elf just raised an eyebrow, but truth be told, he always got more and more fascinated as he got to know her. Luxia had such a vibrant energy, so much fire in her, so much life inside her that Tyril couldn't help but be entranced by her enthusiasm and will power.

She was so powerful and didn't know it yet.

The two elves spent the next couple hours talking about the elven world.

"Wow… I can't believe it. So much information…" - Luxia sighed, knowledge filling her head. 

"But about you specifically… about who's your family… I'm afraid I don't know what to tell you, Luxia." - Tyril frowned.

"Nah, it's okay. What you have just told me is so much more than I could have ever imagined or tried to search on my own." - she smiled reassuringly. - "Man, I can't wait to tell Kade everything. We spent some time at my village's library researching about elven world, but nothing was as complete as this. He would be thrilled to know all this too." - she smiled fondly to the memory of her brother.

Tyril knew by now that this Kade human was the short elf's only family. She was always mentioning him and how she had to bring him back.

"He'll know, Luxia. I will tell him if he wishes when you bring him back." 

Her grin widened as she looked up to him. 

"Thank you, Tyril." - her face turned a deeper shade of purple as she blushed. A lovely shade of purple. - "And, uh, if you feel like talking too, just know that I'm here, okay? I'm all ears."

Luxia didn't know what to expect; Tyril was so mysterious, he was indecipherable to her. But instead of grunting anything, she watched the hint of a grateful smile on his lips. And gods knew how much she wanted to just pull he in and kiss him until she was out of breath and felt her knees weaken. But she controlled herself. 

Instead, she just stretched out and they both gazed out into the water, feeling the cool salty ocean breeze in silent companionship, feeling a bit closer to each other than when the night started. Tagging @brightpinkpeppercorn @hellomynameisdevi @thequeenchoices 

[dani-luminae]

Another Rewrite the Stars AU

I wrote another little AU for my story Rewrite the Stars! This one is much shorter than the D2 AU one, and the premise of it is “What if Mal had put Lia under the sleeping spell rather than Ben?”

@lady-of-the-spirit Tagging you in case you’re interested!

Under the cut, of course, so I don’t clog up any dashboards.

“Ben's love for you is temporary. He'll remember who he really loves, soon enough. Then, trust me, you won't be welcome in this kingdom. Why do you even want to be here, anyway? You've got your own kingdom, don't you?”

Stung by Mal’s hateful words, Lia retreated to a secluded side-garden, wanting to be alone. She didn’t realize that Mal had followed, and with a stolen spindle in her hands. Mal returned to the party, but Lia didn’t.

Uma walked through the crowd, looking for her sister everywhere. But she didn’t see any sign of Lia. So she walked right up to Ben, approaching him just as Mal tried to. Mal hung back, scowling, as Uma asked Ben, “Have you seen Lia?”

Ben paused and looked around, as if it just now occurred to him how odd it was that he had no idea where she had gone. “No,” he said. “Not since I left her over there next to… Mal.”

Uma glanced at Mal, who stood a few feet away, glaring at them both. “Well, Mal’s right there, but I don’t see any sign of Lia,” Uma said, scanning the party for any hint of Lia’s whereabouts. She saw nothing.

Ben was growing concerned. “That’s strange – whoa!” He jumped back slightly with a start when suddenly, a large, pearly insect flew up in front of his face and buzzed at him. Then, the insect – a beetle with shining wings – flew away, disappearing from sight. “What was that?” Ben wondered, staring at where the beetle had disappeared.

“According to Lia’s mythology, those beetles are messengers of the God of Love, or even the god himself in disguise,” Uma commented, finding it rather amusing.

“What, you think I should follow it?” Ben half-joked, still confused.

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Uma replied. “Maybe it’s got some big romantic message for you.”

Ben looked across the crowd and picked out the place where the beetle had vanished. Now he saw it was a small path that led out of sight, into a little garden. He moved through the crowd, keeping his eyes on his destination, hoping that Lia was alright.

“Ben!” Someone grabbed his hand. It was Mal.

Ben spun around, startled again, but calmed quickly. “Mal,” he said.

Mal smiled at him. Her green eyes looked wickedly bright, though not quite glowing. “Why don’t we dance? Or join the celebration?” She asked hopefully, pulling Ben a little closer to her.

Ben smiled at her apologetically and shook his head. “Maybe later,” he said, glancing towards the path into the garden. “I’m looking for Lia.”

Mal’s smile hardly flickered. She was good at keeping up appearances. “Why?” She asked.

“What do you mean, why?” Ben said, pulling his hand away from Mal. “Because she’s my friend. Because it’s not like her to vanish from sight, and I’m concerned.”

Mal’s smile faded when Ben pulled his hand out of hers. “Are you sure she’s not distracting you from what’s really important?”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Ben replied, but he turned and left, slipping away through the crowd, before Mal could even answer. She stood there, watching, as he reached the other side of the crowd and disappeared down the little path to the out-of-sight garden.

“Lia?” Ben called as he turned a corner on the path and entered the garden. “Are you here?” He saw the beetle, with its wings shining in the light, sitting on the bench. A second later, he saw a much more worrying sight. Lia was lying on the ground, her eyes closed. She didn’t look very comfortable. It looked more like she had fallen and just not gotten up. “Lia!” Ben said, kneeling down next to her. He gently shook her shoulder, trying to wake her, but Lia didn’t move. “Lia!” He repeated, worried now.

“Lia?” called a voice. It was Ayesha, Lia’s mother. She entered the garden and paused when she saw Ben kneeling next to Lia. “What’s happened?” Ayesha asked.

Ben shook his head. “I-I don’t know. I just came here and found her like this! She won’t move, she won’t wake up – I don’t know what’s wrong with her!” Panic was starting to set in. He wanted to help Lia. He wanted to know she was okay. But he didn’t understand anything that was happening.

Ayesha knelt down at her daughter’s side, looking her over. “Bashtela? Vuka! Vula amehlo akho!” Ayesha said urgently. [Wake up! Open your eyes!]

Lia didn’t as much as stir. She laid there, looking like she was asleep. Suddenly, recalling the recent museum theft, Ben had a terrible idea. “Oh no…” He grabbed Lia’s gloved hand and saw that his fear had come true. There was a mark in the pad of her index finger, liked something had pricked her there. “No!”

“What is it?” asked Ayesha, looking a little startled by Ben’s shout.

Ben showed her the mark in Lia’s finger. “I think she’s been put under a sleeping curse,” he explained, dread creeping into his heart. “It’s administered by a prick from a cursed spindle, which was stolen today. “

“A sleeping curse?”

“Yes. She’ll stay asleep forever, unless she’s given True Love’s Kiss – which is… as it sounds, a kiss from her True Love, her soulmate.”

“Izihlobo Zentliziyo,” Ayesha translated, looking down at her sleeping daughter.

“Yes,” Ben nodded. He looked down at Lia again. He couldn’t stand the idea that she might never open her eyes again. “Does she… do you know who that might be for her?” He asked Ayesha.

Ayesha shook her head. “She’s never expressed romantic interest in anyone but Erian. Even then, she says that he is not her True Love.” There were tears starting to gather in her eyes and she looked down at her daughter again. “Oh, bashtela…” She whispered, brushing a few braids away from Lia’s face. She looked up at Ben again and asked him, “Is there no other way to break this spell? Any way at all?”

“No,” Ben said sadly. “There isn’t.”

A note of dead, heavy silence fell over them both as both of them thought of what that meant for Lia. She would remain in a cursed sleep forever, never waking, never speaking. Unless they found her True Love – but neither of them knew who that was, even if Ben wished it so much.

“We can’t leave her here,” Ayesha said. Who knew how long Lia had laid here already, on the garden floor. How long ago had the curse been cast on her?

“We’ll call the limo back,” Ben said. “We can take her back to Beast Castle and put her to bed, so she’s at least comfortable.”

Ayesha considered that and saw no better option. “Agreed,” she said softly. She helped Ben lift Lia, carrying her bridal-style. Lia didn’t even stir, giving no indication that she knew at all what was happening around her. The two of them left the side-garden, returning to the plaza, where the party was taking place.

Jim was standing with Adam and Belle on one of the higher terraces. When Ayesha and Ben reappeared, the three of them at first noticed nothing amiss; then they saw Lia, her eyes closed, in Ben’s arms, and they instantly knew something was wrong. Ayesha hurried up the stairs to tell them what was happening.

“Ayesha?” Jim asked, concerned for his daughter. “What’s wrong with Lia?”

“Ben says it’s a sleeping spell,” Ayesha announced.

Adam’s eyes went wide. “Oh no…”

“The spindle!” Belle whispered.

“Someone here must have it,” Adam said, turning to look out over the party. “The spindle that casts the curse,” he explained when Jim looked at him quizzically, “It was stolen earlier today.”

Belle shook her head, like she couldn’t understand what was happening. “But who would do something like this to Lia, of all people?”

As Ben stood there, with Lia in his arms, waiting for Ayesha to return with Jim, more and more of the partygoers caught sight of Lia, and the party suddenly started to go quiet in shock, understanding that something terrible had happened. Uma rushed through the crowd, seeing her sister seemingly unconscious. “Lia? Lia! Oh my goblins, what happened to her?” Uma said.

“I think it’s a sleeping spell,” Ben told her sadly.

“A sleeping spell?!” Uma repeated. The crowd, hearing this, started to murmur in alarm. A sleeping spell hadn’t been used in Auradon for years – but now, here it was, used on a girl who wasn’t even Auradonian.

“Yeah. She has a mark on her finger and everything,” Ben mumbled. He wished he was anywhere but here right now, out of the spotlight. He wished Lia was awake.

“A sleeping spell?” Mal said, and Ben jumped, because he hadn’t even realized that Mal was standing almost right behind him. “But who would do that to her?” Mal wondered, ignoring Ben’s fright.

“I don’t know,” Ben whispered, “I really don’t.” He looked down at Lia in his arms. She continued to sleep, but under better lights, Ben could see that something was horribly wrong with her. Her skin lacked the golden shine he always saw, and her hair seemed duller. “Lia…” He breathed, feeling as if it physically hurt him to see her this way.

Mal put a hand on Ben’s shoulder, looking sympathetic. “Well – look. It’s easy to wake her,” Mal said. “You just have to take her to Solasar and have her betrothed kiss her, right?”

“No.” Ayesha was coming back down the stairs with Jim.

Mal started slightly, having not expected Ayesha to respond to her. “What?”

“If you mean Erian… she doesn’t love him,” Ayesha answered.

“Oh.” Mal blinked, not sure exactly how to respond to that. Lia didn’t love her fiancé. Well, that wasn’t exactly a problem in Mal’s mind. “So she’s just… gonna be like that forever, then?”

Uma wouldn’t even consider that. She shook her head, refusing to accept that fate for her sister. “No. That’s not an option. It can’t be. Ben – you try. Kiss her.” Uma said, turning to him.

“What?” Ben said in surprise.

“Kiss her!” Uma repeated.

Mal glared at Uma for this suggestion and said loudly, “That won’t work!”

Uma glared back at Mal. She knew that Mal was trying to make a scene in front of the crowd, trying to gain allies in the bystanders, and Uma wasn’t willing to let that happen. “And how do you know?” Uma retorted.

“Because Ben is my True Love!” Mal said, like it was obvious, with an infuriating, smug smile. “Not hers!”

“You don’t know that,” Ben stated, surprising everyone, even himself.

For a moment, Mal stared at him as if he had said something obscene. Then she smiled sweetly and said, “Yes, I do. And you know it, too… don’t you, Benny-boo?”

Ben didn’t respond to Mal. He looked down at Lia, laying in his arms like a broken doll, and realized how much it would hurt to never see her eyes open again, to never see the light shining in her jewel-blue-and-gold eyes. Those eyes had nearly hypnotized him the first time they had ever met.

“Ben?” Mal repeated, her voice a bit colder. She took a step towards him, but Uma, Harry, and Gil blocked her way.

Ben glanced up at Lia’s parents. They both nodded at him, knowing what he was thinking. He sank down to the ground, to better support Lia. She continued to sleep, unknowing of what was happening around her. Ben gazed down at her face for a moment, then he leaned down and kissed her on the lips.

The crowd whispered hopefully, watching. Lia stirred, and before Ben could pull away, she reached up and brushed her fingers through his hair as she opened her eyes. Ben pulled back, smiling, tears in his eyes, like he could hardly believe that she was awake.

“What?” Mal hissed in disbelief.

“Ben,” Lia said softly, sitting up.

“Lia!” He said, still staring at her. “You’re awake!”

“Your kiss… woke me,” Lia said, starting to grin. “That was –”

“True Love’s Kiss.”

“Yes.”

Ben and Lia kissed again, and the crowd called and cheered in relief, happy that Lia was awake, that the spell had been broken – True Love’s Kiss had saved the day. It was like a scene out of all of Auradon’s old tales, right in front of them.

Once they finished the kiss, Ben stood up and pulled Lia to her feet. “Lia, do you remember who cast the spell on you?” He asked her, anxious to know who had stolen the spindle and cast an irrevocable curse.

Lia’s smile faded. “It was…” She began, but then she hesitated and shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“No, tell me,” Ben insisted, trying to sound gentle.

Lia looked down at the ground and said, “Mal.”

Ben blinked, stunned. “Mal?”

Lia nodded. “It was Mal.”

Mal heard all of this and turned to try and slip away, but Harry and Gil, far stronger than her, surrounded her and kept her from leaving. Ben spun around and ordered her, his voice carrying across the audience: “Mal! Explain yourself.”

Mal froze, knowing she was caught. She fixed an innocent smile on her face and turned around again with a clueless shrug. “What is there to explain?” She asked.

Ben wasn’t buying the act all. “Did you steal the spindle?” He questioned her.

Mal rolled her eyes. “Why’s that important?”

“Did you or didn’t you?” Ben demanded.

Mal scoffed at him. “I don’t see what you’re so worked up about,” she said, her green eyes sparkling vividly bright. “The curse was broken, your precious Lia is perfectly fine. Your True Love.”

Ben heard the venom in those final two words and finally realized the truth. “You did curse her, didn’t you?” He said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Why? To get rid of her?”

Mal brushed it off. He didn’t quite have it all right. “Well, not ‘get rid’ of her – at least get her sent back to Solasar, assuming her fiancé was her version of True Love,” Mal replied. The crowd gasped at the admission. Mal paid no heed and glared at Ben and Lia. “Unfortunately, your kiss ruined that. You shouldn’t have been able to wake her!” Mal yelled at Ben. “You and I are supposed to be True Love! Not you and her.”

Ben and Lia both jumped back when Mal yelled at them. Lia’s wings appeared, but bore new markings of pink and white. Ben held out an arm, keeping himself between Mal and Lia. “Mal –” He tried to reason with her.

“No, look!” Mal interrupted. She spun around and stalked up to where the stained glass stood, covered in pale gold. She yanked the curtain down, and instantly recoiled. Instead of showing Mal and Ben, it portrayed Ben and Lia. “Oh, no,” Mal whispered.

Ben stared up at the stained glass. The scene portrayed was a truly gorgeous scene, with Ben carrying Lia in his arms as they started into each other’s eyes. “Whoa,” Ben said.

“It’s so lovely,” Lia said, smiling at the sight.

“It’s a mistake!” Mal declared, spinning around to face them. She glared at Ben. “It’s only supposed to show you with…”

“With my True Love,” Ben guessed. All of this had been about getting Lia out of the way and Mal reminding him that he was supposed to be her True Love. And all of her plans were shattering right in front of her. He almost felt a little bad for her. “I truly loved you, Mal – once,” Ben said, trying to explain himself. “But not anymore. You’ve hurt too many people.”

Mal looked hopelessly between Ben, Lia, and the stained-glass portrait. She took a step back. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, surprising them all. “I didn’t… please forgive me.” She looked down at the ground.

Ben stared at Mal, trying to decide how true her apology was – and how much of it might just be a trick. “Should I forgive her?” He asked Lia. After all, Lia was the one who had been put under the sleeping spell.

But Lia shook her head and said, “I can’t make that choice for you, Ben. I stand with you either way.” She knew that Ben was, by his nature itself, a very forgiving person; but even Ben wouldn’t ignore when the lines were crossed. Whatever he chose, she would trust in him.

Ben went quiet, considering Lia’s words. And then he turned back to Mal and announced, “I can’t forgive you, Mal.”

Mal blinked. “What?” She said, her voice dangerously quiet. She looked up and locked eyes with Ben.

Ben held her gaze. He didn’t waver in the slightest. “You’ve hurt too many people,” he repeated.

Mal’s eyes flashed, glowing green. She clenched her fists. “While, I’m about to hurt a whole lot more!” She snarled, and she vanished in a blast of purple smoke. Several people in the audience screamed. And then there was a terrifying roar, and Mal rose up into the air in her dragon form.

[thewingedwolf]

Ben and Lonnie are Actually BFF’s - headcanon/meta brought to you by Rani and her need for her faves to have been friends and also a little wish-fulfillment. I wrote this forever ago and it’s A Lot but I’m posting it before it gets jossed by Descendants 2 (which....who knows maybe my broship will be canon but whateva).

So for my First Piece of Evidence...it’s less evidence and more me spit balling (I’ll get to actual evidence later). But they’re pretty evenly matched in temperament, they’re both happy, cheerful, and kind kids with a general positive outlook on life which would make me think they would get along. I mean, Ben seems to get along with everyone so its not far of a stretch that him and Lonnie would get along.

Second, she seems pretty down with the proclamation. Which could be chalked up to her just being a good person but uh. Considering the pushback Ben got from it (warranted or not), it doesn’t seem very likely that’s the reason. Or likely all on it’s own anyway. I mean most of the parents are against it, at the very least the more popular kids are against it (minus Ben), so that’s a lot of people around Lonnie that don’t like it, but she seems sorta down with it, even if she’s a bit reluctant. Which obviously means that Ben was like “look literally even my parents aren’t in love with this idea I need someone in my corner Lonnie pls I will do your math homework for a month” and she went along with it bc THEY ARE BFFS.

Third point which is - Lonnie tries quite often to be their friend, initially in a way that looks like she was put up to it by someone else (...maybe...idk...Ben...) but then keeps trying

she’s one of the first to reach out to the four and she does so fairly early on

also. why would she go to them for magic hairdo she’s the kid of two big military leaders i am positive she has the money to go to a nice hairdresser or like, her grandmother.

she also comes across a bit better than chad and jane do - evie wants a boyfriend, chad plays on this by using her to do his homework, mal has to chase after jane and jane only stays bc mal makes her popular. the minute audrey and them accept jane, she drops mal fairly quickly. lonnie wants them to do something for her yeah, but she offers to pay for it, so it’s not like she’s taking advantage or anything.

her reaction after she gets her hair done like she’s SO EXCITED AND SHE WANTS MAL TO KNOW THAT and then she rips her skirt in a really obvious i’m-gonna-be-cool-like-you way

she continually reaches out to them, not just for her hair and her own gain but she goes when they’re making cookies and mentions everyone wants Mal to do their hair, which points to her talking Mal’s makeover skills up.

Which. LET ME TALK ABOUT THAT SCENE. She tries to make conversation during that scene, she offers help, she’s genuinely trying to be nice, and wants to know about their lives. And when their lives turn out to be worse than she thought, she doesn’t brush it off or blame them for t heir shitty lives like other characters do, she is KIND AND SYMPATHETIC and tries to offer comfort!!! It even seems to work for a half a second but you know, plot happens and all.

She also sits with the girls at the game even tho she obviously has other friends, but she reaches out anyway.

she is literally the only character besides Ben to constantly reach out to them, in what is initially a way that is her not happpy with it (like she’s been put up to it by a friend) but then keeps trying to be their friend

Piece the Fourth - evidence she’s friends (good friends!!) with Ben. [note: some of this would do better if I had gifs to back it up but I can’t gif. So I have caps, altho it might be a little hard to tell but it’s the best I can do sorry]

Again, first person to actively seek them out (Chad and Jane sorta fall into their laps, and Doug is their guide thing. She’s the one who makes first contact).

the way she phrases it “you hate us and well...you’re evil” strikes me as someone put her up to it. like your friend is like go talk to the new kid they seem nice and you’re like fine and you’re a bit of an asshole initially cuz u don’t want to be there. Considering the fact that Ben has seen they’re having some issues blending in, and then the weirdness of Mal chasing Jane into the bathroom, it would make sense that he’d want to make them feel more welcome so he sends a friend he knows won’t be a dick to go talk to them. Lonnie agrees bc Ben and also she’s nice.

She's so happy for Ben and Mal during Did I Mention

Like seriously she's like squealing and grabbing Mal and pointing at Ben, like there's excited and then there's Lonnie during that scene.

[Image Description: Lonnie smiling gleefully while Ben makes his way towards a nervous looking Mal]

^^^^^^^^^^^that is the face of a girl who wants her bff to date someone she approves of at long last

During the Family Day debacle, everyone else starts walking away after Chad wakes up, but she stays

[image description: Chad and Audrey walking away from Ben during Family Day, while Lonnie and Doug look on, Doug looking very dejected while Lonnie looks sad and possibly worried]

She starts walking towards Ben  

[image description: Lonnie has walked forward several steps towards Ben. Doug has a hand on her arm, and Ben looks on]

and only leaves when Doug takes her hand and literally pulls her away from Ben

[image description: Doug is pulling on Lonnie’s arm and walking away, pulling her with while Ben watches on, his shoulders sagging. Lonnie wears the same worried and sad look]

Later, she doesn't gossip like Jane or Audrey, she lookes upset like Doug and a bit mad about what just happened.She also loks v disappointed in Doug when he rejects Evie and then sorta shakes her head and looks annoyed when Jane and Audrey come over after they had just insulted Mal. I don’t have great caps for this bc she’s not the focus on the scene (this is where giffing skills would come in siiiigh) but I did find one cap that isn’t too terrible

[image description: doug sitting down after chad called him over from being with evie. lonnie watches doug, looking disappointed and a bit sad]

She does leave with the group but unlike everyone else, she doesn't look afraid, she's just pulling a Chad away from the group (probably stopping him from getting his ass put to sleep again bc come on nobody is happy during that scene)

So she very obviosly is not happy about this, attempts to comfort Ben, and is not ok with the petty shit Chad, Jane, and Audrey pull off, and disappointed in Doug not reaching out to Evie. To me, it seems less like she’s in with the other kids, and more like she feels very torn and not sure of how to react to the situation. So, similar to Doug - which, I was very annoyed with Doug and while it is disappointing that Lonnie wouldn’t say something either, peer pressure is a hell of a motivator and when you go to school with literal princes and princesses, that peer pressure is probably multiplied by 10000. Not to mention, we know characters like the dwarves are treated badly by Auradon per Isle of the Lost. While Mulan and Shang are human, they’re also not royalty and I wonder how well they would be treated. 

And then in Set It Off, she just jumps into the happy right away. She doesn’t need to be cheered up and she’s not a love interest, she’s just genuinely happy for everyone. Which is a) part of part three in that she’s just a really nice person and b) she’s happy bc her best friend is at least dating someone she likes I mean idk about any of you, but I’m always much happier when I approve of my friends’ dating choices

In conclusion I just love Lonnie so much, she’s so nice to the rotten four and she wants to give them a chance and I want Ben to have friends that actually support him and I want Lonnie to have friends that aren’t catty as hell and I think it would be cute if they were friends, I think there’s a decent amount of evidence that points towards them being friends, and it’s my headcanon and I say so :P

[ruffoverthinksthings]

Let Ben Rest: Disney’s Opportunity to Explore Auradon, Encourage Youth Involvement in Politics, and Encourage Healthy Leadership Habits

Many thanks to @screaminginternallyalleternity for pointing this out, and making wonderful writing besides about all the ways Auradon is incredibly messed up.

Auradon’s power is far too concentrated at the very top. We see that Beast, despite being one man and ruling over such a diverse and massive union of states, has the power to:

Completely, utterly ban Magic, one of the most powerful tools (and means of living) for its citizens,  what brought a lot of the Royals into power in the first place and let them keep it, and united these states together in the first place,

Exile a gigantic portion of their population into an island prison, whilst bringing some of them back from the dead specifically for this, with inhumane conditions, no government supervision or aid, and literally dumping all their trash on them, and

Oppressing pretty much all non-human minorities so efficiently that most people aren’t even aware of it happening, and they had to wait for a change in administration to have their grievances aired and actually redressed, rather than getting yelled at and threatened until you shut up and sit back down.

I headcanon a lot that the decisions such as the Magic Ban, the Isle of the Lost, and the numerous oppressive laws weren’t entirely his fault—there had to have been civilian support, along with allies with the other royals—but as Kanye West sang, “No one man should have all that power.”

I can understand why the power structure came to be: in majority of the States’ time periods, royalty was seen as divine, infallible, and absolutely deserving to do whatever they pleased, because they couldn’t be sitting on the throne if they weren’t the true, right ruler for the kingdom. Even with London bringing with it the ideas of democracies, liberalism, and secularism, religious beliefs and long-held truths like that don’t die easily, nor do they fade away within the span of 20 years.

They may have compromised with the elective monarchy they have right now, but the point still stands: we have one man who has far too much power, and as Alex wrote about, far too much responsibility than any one person should ever have.

I understand that Ben is basically the Kim Possible of the Descendants Universe sans fighting evil villains on a regular basis,* that he is perfect in every way, with superhuman time management skills, intelligence, and energy stores to be a star athlete, captain and president of pretty much every club under the sun, and straight A grades plus numerous colleges and professionals courting and asking him for his opinion.

But like Kim Possible the show frequently used as a dramatic plot point, even if you can do anything, that doesn’t mean you should, because you are still human and you have limits.

It’d be a massive opportunity for Disney on all fronts to show Ben being overwhelmed by all his responsibilities and duties, and doing what responsible and successful leaders do:

Delegate responsibility to others.

It’d be a great way to point out the flaws of Auradon’s political system of entrusting so much power into a very small elite (or just two-three individuals) surrounded by advisers (who may or may not be corrupt, like Jafar), and are both oftentimes blind and deaf to the needs, the desires, and the realities of the people they serve.

It’d serve as an excellent critique of our current world, with how so many people put far too much trust in their politicians and leaders, believing them to be the actors of change rather than just the people coordinating the effort; having more sway over matters than they really have (such as with the economy, or massive, complicated crises like poverty); and more often than not, giving them too little supervision and accountability, content to disregard their duty as citizens to watch over the people watching over them, and just let them take the wheel.

Whether that leads to them to greener pastures, or off a cliff, too many people think their civic duty ends once you cast your ballot.

It’d be effective in teaching kids this most valuable lesson of adulthood: you can’t do everything by yourself. You need the help of other people. Even if you can take the weight of the world on your shoulders, you shouldn’t, because you’ll get tired, you’ll get sick, and you’ll eventually get crushed by your load, if you don’t have someone who can help take some of the weight off, or tag out for you while you recuperate.

It’d be a wonderful, convenient, and lore-friendly way to put attention into the various aspects of Auradon outside of the Isle, Auradon Prep, and parts of Auradon City, and develop individual characters—have Ben make new committees, initiatives, and departments, and delegate a student representative for each of them.

Hell, just make them the official Secretary, as apparently this society is perfectly fine with handing over absolute executive power to 16 year olds still in high school, why not his alter-egos in his cabinet?

Have Jane and Mal team-up as the Secretaries for the Magic, Sorcery, and Mystical Matters Committee, trying to find out some way to slowly, safely, sanely undo the magic ban without causing widespread chaos and discontent, have us see how exactly the Fae population have been affected by having the very essence of their existence made illegal, and how Auradon’s regular population had adapted with science and the consequences of getting rid of magic.

It wouldn’t be strange of them to go visiting the cells and settlements of expatriated Fae and magic users like the Stars (a headcanon of mine), interview the other Faeries of the realm and how they’ve been adapting or more often than not, suffering, and explore magic and the effects of the Ban deeper because that’s their job.

Have Jay be in charge of the “At-Risk Children Athletics Program” and explore the concept of Auradon Villain Kids (AVKs): the children of pardoned criminals or “not THAT evil” individuals that have avoided the Isle, but have a massive stigma anyway. Have him find out how the Romani (“gypsies” from The Hunchback of Notre Dame) have been doing, hang out with his fellow street urchins in Agrabah, London, China, and so on, introduce to these kids who think they have no future and nothing to live for that there is hope for them in sports, and getting into education.

Have Carlos and Evie be part of the Department of Science and Technology, exploring how education is still faulty in Auradon with parents perceptions that their kids are not going to benefit from it, the horribly mistaken belief that girls belong at home and not in college, along with the flaws and issues that technology and science have wrought with Auradon.

How many blacksmiths were put out of business when mass-produced products from automated factories came about? Why does Auradon such a huge throw-away culture where they can’t seem to use anything more than once or to the last drop, and is this because they live in such a time of abundance, they have stopped caring about the environmental and societal costs because “there’ll always be more?” How was technology adapted by these mostly medieval fantasy universes, and what the hell is going on with London right now?

You can also rope in the other AKs and give them the spotlight, like making Lonnie, Audrey, and Doug into the trio in charge of the Rural Development Initiative, exploring the people that have likely been left behind by Auradon’s move into a very automated, information-based economy: farmers, small, out of the way villages, and people who thought they’d be working the same well-paying, low barrier-to-entry, low-skill jobs all their lives, until they suddenly disappeared.

Expose us to the plight of the minorities through Doug’s experiences as the son of the Dwarves, how he thought there was no future for him but the mines, and how Snow White and his family fought damn hard to get him the education he deserved.

Have Lonnie explore how the middle class is better off, but not that much, and how certain societal problems have remained like arranged marriages because singles are so overwhelmed by how much choice they have, along with how Feminism still has a long way to go in that you’re still very much expected to quit your career at some point and become a full-time mother in Auradon.

Get Audrey’s hands dirty, have her interact with her people outside of parties and formally arranged meetings where everything is staged, shiny, and clean, and let her see the reality of the people that she’s going to govern, how things REALLY are outside of her gold-and-jewel-studded bubble as a 1% Royal,  and that her luxury always comes at the cost of someone else’s prosperity, as there’s only so many resources to go around.

For far too long, Disney has been perpetuating the myth of “Divine Right” with their royals and the people who marry into the monarchy: that they deserve their positions because of them being inherently better, smarter, and more ethical people, that they deserve to rule because they are obviously good rulers and the bad ones are deposed in short order, or that it’s only the kings and queens who can actually enact any sort of change in the world, the commoner’s job is to make that happen like they were horses pulling a cart.

Having Ben delegate his tasks, admit that he needs help, and spread the responsibility around not only makes him a more realistic and sympathetic character and less of a Marty Stu, it empowers the other members of the cast and gives them importance in the world, AND it shows real life kids that you don’t need to have been born into royalty or have a crown put in your head to take charge, and lead the way for change for the world around you.

Plus, it can be a great opportunity to show the kids a HEALTHY, sane, safe way to have a high power, high responsibility executive job, that even if you are at the top, you’re still relying on the people below you holding you up just as they are on you, that you will inevitably need several hands of help, and that you need vacation days, breaks from your work, and time to yourself, away from the crush of paperwork, demands, and people demanding hearings.

That you need to and can make a system where the colour of this year’s ball is handled by your Royal Event Planner, you have a clear chart and system of if you really need to take this call or hear out this plea or can have someone else do it for you, and that your primary job as a leader isn’t to do all the work, it’s to figure out how to get everyone to do what they’re best at or can do, so you can all achieve more than if you were all working by yourselves.

I’d also LOVE to see a scene where Ben is kicking back in his room, slowly working through a giant pile of books, interspersed with the VKs and AKs running around, trying to keep this dystopian disaster we call Auradon from imploding.

* I actually have an AU about this. More on it Later.(TM)

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