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antivano · 4 years ago

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The Ultimate DA: I OC Questionnaire.

Hi DA fandom! I’m seven years late to the party. A few years ago I whipped up this huge DA: I questions template and never released it but I figured why not. It’s got 22 parts and almost 200 questions, free to be modified to your liking for other websites as long as there’s credit. It’s very packed and full, and is all located under the cut. I would strongly recommend copy pasting everything underneath the cut and turning it into your own post (please like/reblog if you do, and tag me in it if you want to!) for your own ease, but you’re welcome to just reblog it and fill it in from there. Without further ado, the ultimate DA: I OC questionnaire. Enjoy!

THE ULTIMATE DA: I INQUISITOR QUESTIONNAIRE by @antivano.

Basics. 1. 1 Introduce the Inquisitor! Name, age, race, gender, sexuality, birthday, class. 1. 2 Any reasons for these choices? Are they named after anyone? 1. 3 Are they happy with who they are? Do they wish they had a different name, another gender or race, wish to be born with/out magic? 1. 4 Does your Inquisitor stick to canon origin stories, or did you change it to fit your story? I.E is your dwarf Inquisitor a mage, is your “rogue archer” Inquisitor secretly a mage, etc. 1. 5 Do they have any artistic, singing, dancing talents? Anything that stands out? Any hobbies?

Appearance. 2. 1 Give a detailed description of what they look like, or add a picture! 2. 2 How do they view themselves physically? Do they believe they’re attractive, or have low self-esteem? Is there any one particular thing about themselves they wish they could change? 2. 3 What about mentally? How do they view who they are as a person? Do they believe they’re a good person? Bad? Do they like or dislike who they are? 2. 4 Do they have any scars, and if so, how and where did they get them? Why were the wounds not healed with magic? Any tattoos or piercings? If they have vallaslin, what colour is the ink? At what age did they get it and what does it represent? Do they regret any of those choices? 2. 5 If they have vallaslin, how did they feel about learning the truth behind it? 2. 6 Which voice out of the four options do they have, or do you have a voiceclaim for them? What about faceclaims?

Personality and views. 3. 1 What kind of person are they? Give a detailed description of their personality. Are they friendly, broody, quick-tempered, impatient, etc? Flaws and strengths? 3. 2 How do they view other species/races? 3. 3 How did they react to suddenly being in charge? Are they a natural born leader, or are they waiting for the first chance to escape? 3. 4 Does their personality change during the events of the game? How so? 3. 5 What is their opinion on magic, templars, seekers, apostates, blood mages/blood magic, the chantry? 3. 6 If a non-mage, do they have any former templar training? How did they get into it? 3. 7 Any political views within Thedas that stand out? 3. 8 How do they view the countries of Thedas? Do any of their views stand out as noteworthy? How do they view Tevinter and the controversy surrounding it? 3. 9 How do they feel about the fall of Arlathan and the Dales? Do they hold all humans accountable? If dalish, does it hurt to think about, or is it so far in the past that they’re detached? Does their opinion on these things change upon learning what truly happened to Arlathan? 3. 10 What are their religious views? If dalish, how do they react upon learning that the Old Gods were just powerful mages? How do they feel about them being locked away? Do they feel abandoned, betrayed, angry? 3. 11 What are some of their favourite things in all of Thedas? The ocean, baby nugs, the colour silver, rainy nights? Any reasons? 3. 12 What is their greatest wish, hope, dream? What is their greatest fear? How do these things affect who they are?

Skills. 4. 1 What was their fighting skill like before they were sent to the conclave? Did they know how to fight, or were they thrown into the fray? 4. 2 How does this improve during their time in the Inquisition? If a mage, do they have any knowledge of how to use swords, daggers, or bows? Were they self-taught? 4. 3 How do they deal with combat? Do they drag it out, hack and slash, or get it over with as fast as possible? How do they feel about death and killing? Was their first kill during the Inquisition, or have they killed before that? How did they cope with it?

Backstory. 5. 1 What’s their backstory? 5. 2 What were they like as a toddler, child, teenager, and now as an adult? 5. 3 Any traumatic or noteworthy incidents that have stayed with them? How did they cope with it? 5. 4 What is the greatest tragedy that has ever happened to them? How did it shape who they are? 5. 5 Do they know the Hero of Ferelden or anyone from Origins? How and when did they meet? Do they still keep in contact? 5. 6 What about Hawke or anyone from DA2? If so, does Varric know that Hawke and the Inquisitor know one another? 5. 7 How did they feel about being sent to the conclave? Did they volunteer or was it forced upon them? 5. 8 Are they happy with where they come from? Do they wish they had a higher or lower standing in society? Have they run away, or wanted to? Family. 6. 1 What are the names of their parents? Are they living or dead? What are or were they like? Does the Inquisitor have a healthy relationship with them? 6. 2 Any siblings, nieces, nephews? Tell us about them. 6. 3 Any children that the Inquisition does or doesn’t know about? Why do they keep their children a secret, if so? Are they mixed race? Where are they now, who do they live with? How do they feel about their parent being named Herald of Andraste? If none, does the Inquisitor want children in the future? Talk about them here. 6. 4 What was their family home like growing up? Did they stay in one place or move around a lot? 6. 5 Who is the Inquisitors closest friend? How did they become friends? Was it always a happy friendship or was it enemies-to-friends? How has it evolved or crumbled during the Inquisition? 6. 6 Is there anyone they aren’t on good terms with? Anyone they can’t stand? Either individual people or organizations (Red Templars, etc). Why so?

Romance. 7. 1 Did the Inquisitor romance anyone from the Inquisition, or were they solo? 7. 2 When did they first begin to have feelings for their love interest? 7. 3 Was there a break up? Was it permanent, or did they rekindle? Are they still friends? 7. 4 How do they feel about their relationship? Is it serious, or fun? 7. 5 Do they fight often? What is it most often about? 7. 6 Are they a flirt? 7. 7 Do they want to marry their love interest, or is it not on their mind right now?

Misc. 8. 1 Do they have a favourite place in all of Thedas? Is there anywhere they’d hate to be? 8. 2 Do you have a playlist for the Inquisitor? A theme song? 8. 3 Do they carry around anything significant to them that has sentimental value? 8. 4 What languages can they speak? Were they self taught? 8. 5 Have they ever been arrested outside of the conclave explosion? If so, what was it for? How long was their sentence? Did they escape or were they let go? 8. 6 Have they ever been drunk? When was their first time being drunk? What are they like being drunk? Do they get any hangovers or do anything they regret? 8. 7 Are they addicted to anything? Have they tried to stop? How does it affect their stay in the Inquisition?

Pick Your Party. 9. 0 Who does the Inquisitor most often bring with them on quests? Do you pick this based on who they’d want with them, or who you as a player needs at the time? 9. 0. 0 Do you make decisions based on your Inquisitor in a roleplay sense, or do you make decisions based on what you as a player wants? 9. 1 What were their first opinions of the companions and advisors? 9. 2 How does their relationship with them change during the game? Have they grown closer or further apart? 9. 3 If allied with the mages, does the Inquisitor and Dorian share a bond from being trapped in a destroyed future together, or were they able to brush it off easily with no impact? 9. 4 Did they help Blackwall find the Grey Warden objects? Did they go out of their way to find them, or was it just right place right time? 9. 5 Did they help Cassandra hunt down the missing Seekers? How did they feel about finding out the truth of the seekers and tranquility? 9. 6 Did Cassandra rebuild the Seekers? 9. 7 How did they react to Cassandra’s love for Varric’s books? Did they help, or tease her? Have they ever read Varric’s books? 9. 8 Did they help Dorian hunt down Venatori agents? How do they feel about the Venatori? 9. 9 What happened during the events of Dorian and his father? Was the Inquisitor supportive? 9. 10 How does the Inquisitor feel about Mother Giselle? 9. 11 Did the Inquisitor become a Red Jenny? 9. 12 What became of Harmons? Did Sera kill him? If so, how did the Inquisitor react? 9. 13 Did they help Solas retrieve the elven artifact? Did they help Mirhis? Was there a fight for the amulet? 9. 14 Did they help Solas and his spirit friend? Was the demon killed by the Inquisitor? 9. 15 Were the Chargers sacrificed? Why or why not? 9. 16 Did they help Varric with the red lyrium, and with Bianca? How did they feel upon learning that lyrium is alive? 9. 17 Did they bring a real Snowy Wyvern heart to Vivienne, or a fake one? How did they react to Vivienne's beloved? 9. 18 How did they react to Cullen’s lyrium addiction? Did they help Cullen become clean? 9. 19 How do they feel about Krem? Have they ever met an Aqun-Athlok before? 9. 20 How do they react to Zevran and the Crows? Do they know anything about them? Do they keep in contact?

Finding a Safe Haven. 10. 1 What was their reaction upon being locked up? Did they immediately resent Cassandra (and/or Leliana) for it? 10. 2 Did they try to escape before reaching the breach? Did they consider killing anyone to escape? 10. 3 What was their reaction upon learning that they could seal rifts? 10. 4 What’s their opinion on Haven? Is it too cold for them, too loud, too quiet? 10. 5 What is their opinion on Roderick? What about other minor characters within Haven? 10. 6 Which path did they take to get to the breach? What was their reason? Do they feel guilty about the casualties of the other path? 10. 7 How do they react to being named the Herald of Andraste? Do they ask people not to call them that, or do they wear the title proudly? How do they feel about Andraste and the Maker in general? Mages, Templars, Seekers, (oh my!) 11. 1 Did they choose to ally with the templars or with the mages? Why? Did they take their companions opinions into consideration or was their mind set? 11. 2 How do they feel about the conflict? Do they think it’s time the mages got their freedom no matter how, or are they staunchly pro-circle? 11. 3 How do they react to the templars and seekers going rogue? Is it a surprise? 11. 4 How does the Inquisitor react to learning of the plot to ally with Tevinter? Do they agree with it, or blame Fiona? 11. 4 How do they feel about Alexius and Felix? What was their reaction to Felix's letter? Did they trust it, or were they suspicious? 11. 5 Did they care about Felix's illness, or was it unimportant to them? Would they have tried to help him, if they could? How did they react to the events of the potential future? 11. 6 How did they react to meeting the King or Queen? What do they think of King Alistair or Queen Anora? 11. 7 How did they react upon gaining the support of the templars/mages? Were they glad to be surrounded by them, or did they wish to be as far away from them as possible? 11. 8 Did they want to relax, after gaining the support of the templars/mages, or did they want to celebrate? 11. 9 How did they react to Corypheus and Samson/Calpernia? 11. 10 Did the Inquisitor try to save as many people as possible? Did they feel guilty about the ones they couldn't save? 11. 11 How does the Inquisitor feel about being a distraction for Corypheus while Haven flees? Did they volunteer? 11. 12 How do they react to being lost? Did they walk until their legs give out, or did they want to curl into a ball of fear? How do they react to being found by Cullen and Cassandra? Did it change their dynamic with either of them? 11. 13 How do they feel about being chosen as leader of the Inquisition? 11. 14 How do they react to Solas telling them the orb is of elven origin?

Skyhold. 12. 1 What are their thoughts on Skyhold as a whole? Do they get lost easily? Any favourite areas or areas that they’ve decorated? 12. 2 Do they change the appearance of Skyhold often with throne replacement or banner decorations? Does the Inquisition object to it? 12. 3 How do they generally judge people in trials? Are they lenient or brutal? Do they enjoy being a judge, or would they rather pass the responsibility to someone else? Do they visit prisoners? 12. 5 Any noteworthy trials? 12. 6 Does your Inquisitor generally use Force, Secrets, or Connections to complete War Table Operations? Why? What does the Inquisitor usually spend Inquisition Perks on? 12. 7 Do they have any pets? What mount do they most often ride?

Phoenix. 13. 1 How does the Inquisitor react to Hawkes presence? Do they get along? Do they agree? Do the tales live up to the reality? 13. 2 Who is Hawke? Mage? Sarcastic? Did they romance anyone? Is their partner with them in Skyhold, or did they stay behind?

Here lies my heart. 14. 1 Who is the Warden contact, and how does the Inquisitor feel about them? Have they met them before? Do they spend time with the contact at all outside of combat and quests? 14. 2 How do they react to the letter the Hero of Ferelden sends? Do they write back? Do the Warden and the Inquisitor then keep in contact? 14. 3 How do they feel about The Calling? 14. 4 What is their opinion on the Wardens? Did they know anything about them beforehand? Have they ever met a Warden before the contact? 14. 5 Would they join the Wardens, if they could? 14. 6 How does the Inquisitor react to Warden-Commander Clarel? 14. 7 Did they bring Blackwall along? If so, are they suspicious that he never heard the Calling? Does it raise red-flags? 14. 8 Did they intend to open a portal to the Fade, or was it accidental? 14. 9 How do they react to being in the Fade again? Do they have nightmares about it afterwards? 14. 10 Do they believe the spirit they encounter is truly Divine Justinia? 14. 11 How do they react to the revelation regarding the Wardens’ involvement in the Conclave attack? Do they exile the Wardens? 14. 12 What would the Nightmare say to the Inquisitor? 14. 13 How do they react to learning it was the Divine behind them in the Fade, not Andraste? Does it break their spirit, or are they relieved? 14. 14 What would be on the Inquisitors tombstone? What about Hawkes? 14. 15 What else do the Fearlings take the shape of, or are they all giant spiders? 14. 16 Who do they leave behind in the Fade? Any guilt or regret? Why do they choose this person? If Alistair or Hawke, how does the Warden or Hawke’s love interest react to their death? 14. 17 How do they respond to Varric if Hawke dies? Do they comfort him? Does it change their dynamic?

No Rest for the Wicked. 15. 1 What is their opinion on returning to Orlais? 15. 2 How do they feel about the ball? Are they excited? How do they feel about the clothes they're wearing? 15. 3 Is the Inquisition confident that the Inquisitor will succeed at the ball, or is there a fear that they'll be kicked out within five minutes? Is the Inquisitor the belle of the ball, or do they barely scrape by? 15. 4 What happened during the ball? Any romance? Did they gather coins, secrets? 15. 5 How does the Inquisitor react to Briala? Celene? Gaspard? Do they agree with Briala? 15. 6 What becomes of Orlais? Who holds the throne? 15. 7 Does the Inquisitor dance with anyone? 15. 8 What is their first impression of Morrigan? Does this change during the events of the game? Do they spend time together? How do they feel about Kieran? Who is Kieran's father? Do they meet? How does the Inquisitor react to Kieran's parentage? 15. 9 How do they feel about the Orlesian Game? 15. 10 Are they a good dancer, or do they have two left feet?

Pride and Prejudice. 16. 1 Does the Inquisitor take the Pilgrim’s Path, or fight their way through? What is their reason for this? 16. 2 Does the Inquisitor ally with Abelas or Morrigan? How do they feel about Abelas? Does it change their view of Elves at all? 16. 3 If Dalish, does Morrigan's attitude annoy them at all? Do they confront her? 16. 4 Do they drink from the Well of Sorrows? Why or why not? If so, does it change them at all?

Run, Kieran, Run! 17. 1 How do they react to the disappearance of Kieran? Are they worried? 17. 2 How do they first react to Flemeth, and then Mythal? 17. 3 If they drank from the Well, how do they react from discovering they are now the servant of Mythal? Are they fearful, determined to find a way out of it, or do they believe she holds no power over them? 17. 4 How do they react to finding out who Kieran really is?

Hope Will Never Die. 18. 1 How does the Inquisitor feel about facing Corypheus for the last time? Do they feel confident? Do they believe they will survive the encounter? How do they cope with the possibility of failure? Are there any tearful farewells? 18. 2 How do they react to the broken orb? 18. 3 How do they react to defeating Corypheus? Are they relieved, unnerved? Are they in disbelief? 18. 4 If they drank from the Well, did the Dragon they mastered survived, or was it killed in the fight with Corypheus's dragon? How do they react to now having a pet Dragon? Does it serve them, or fly away after the battle? 18. 5 How did they feel about Solas's disappearance?

I Know the Mark Like the Back of My Hand. 19. 1 How do they feel about the Anchor? Is it sacred to them? Do they hate it? Have they tried to remove it? 19. 2 Does it hurt? How much? 19. 3 Does it control them, or do they control it? 19. 4 Can they do any fun tricks with it? 19. 5 Has it gotten them into trouble? (ex; glowing in a dungeon and alerting enemies)

Jaws of Hakkon. 20. 1 How do they react upon learning that they will be investigating the fate of the last Inquisitor? 20. 2 Do they gain an alliance with the Avvar? 20. 3 How do they feel about the Avvar? 20. 4 How do they react to Telana? How do they react to her Dreamer abilities? 20. 5 How do they react to discovering the truth of Ameridan? Does this change their opinion of history? If Dalish, how much does it affect them to discover that they were an elven mage? 20. 6 Do they vow to tell the world the truth, or do they continue letting people believe that Ameridan was a human noble? 20. 7 What becomes of Storvacker?

The Descent. 21. 1 How do they feel about the Deep Roads? Did they find the scenery beautiful, unnerving? Are they afraid of heights? 21. 2 How do they feel about Valta and Renn? 21. 3 Did they believe in the Titans? 21. 4 How did they react to Renn's death? 21. 5 How did they react to the truth of Titan's? 21. 6 How did they react to being inside a Titan? 21. 7 How did they react to Valta using magic? 21. 8 ow did they react to Valta staying in the Deep Roads? Were they concerned for her safety? Did they send search parties to later look for her? Any headcanons of what became of her?

Trespasser. 22. 1 How has the Inquisitor changed in two years? What have they been up to? 22. 2 How has the relationships with the Inquisition changed? 22. 3 How has their love life been? 22. 4 Are they happy to get back into the fray, or annoyed? Were they hoping for peace and quiet? 22. 5 How do they feel about Bann Teagan? 22. 6 How do they feel about the people's wish for the Inquisition to be disbanded? Does the Inquisitor agree? 22. 7 How do they feel about the Qunari being involved? 22. 7 Do they suspect Solas of being involved, or does it come as a complete shock? 22. 8 How do they feel about the ancient elven city beyond the Eluvians? 22. 9 How do they react to finding out Solas is Fen'Harel? Did they ever have even a small hint or suspicion that something about Solas wasn't right? 22. 10 How do they feel about Fen'Harel in general? Has it changed their opinion of him? 22. 11 How do they react to their mark flaring up again? Are they angry? Do they become frightened? 22. 12 Do they believe that the fight with the Viddasala will kill them? Do they say goodbye to their companions? What about their love interest? 22. 13 How do they feel about Fen'Harel's plan? Do they agree with him or vow to stop him? 22. 14 How do they react to their arm being ripped off? How do they cope with it? Was it a relief to be rid of the mark? How do they adjust to life without it? Do they use magic to compensate? How does their love interest help them? 22. 15 Do they get married? How is their marriage? What was the celebration like? 22. 16 What becomes of the Inquisition? What was the reason for the Inquisitor’s choice? 22. 17 What happens after Trespasser? How is the Thedas looking? What are your headcanons?

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #the inquisitor #dai #dragon age 3 #oc meme #oc template

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karanoid · 4 years ago

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about top joe discord

LET ME ADDRESS A FEW POINTS:

There has been many fear and anxiety regardless the top!joe discord I made. I understand how it gives my discord a bad reputation. Somebody has kindly reached out to me to ask me addressing several points, which I’m now gonna clarify:

1. I am racist, I asked why, and they said mostly because of my dismissive behavior to people who called me out for drawing yusuf adorned in gold jewelry which made their friends feel unsafe. So, I am a muslim and was raised in a muslim household and community. I am fucking brown.

I didn’t say it because you don’t need to know that about me. What bothers me is how some people feel the need to come to my inbox informing me “maam yusuf is a religious muslim who prays 5 times a day and do all the supplementary prayers all while he drinks alcohol and fuck nicky in the dailies, he wouldnt be wearing gold maam no maam.” as if I didn’t know any better. so please, now don’t do that. If you care so much about the littlest details like wearing gold then you’ll also call out yusuf because he draws living beings and drinks champagne. yes it’s true muslim men are forbidden from wearing gold AND silk but let’s not forget, nothing in the comic and movies imply yusuf has ever been religious. It’s easier to see nicolo as religious because he was a fucking priest. Yusuf was a fucking merchant, it’s easy to see that he’d be less faithful because he would have been travelling and seen many kind of people to broaden his horizons and not contained to a little bubble of hyper religious community. However, let me remind you: whether yusuf AND nicolo are religious or not is entirely UP TO THE AUTHOR/ARTIST. It’s totally fine to make him religious and if you can respect it THATS GREAT, I ALSO LIKE HIM THAT WAY, but please remember it’s not even canon and hey sometimes I just draw things because I like the aesthetics. Also please, do not harass writers for getting a thing or two incorrect, even white people cannot get christianity correct, even between two muslims could be a disagreement whether this fic’s yusuf is problematic or not. I wouldn’t even expect anything more and THAT’S OKAY. Just don’t be an ass to muslims of color in real life and don’t fall into the believe that it’s a religion of violence. you can say that greg made him that way bc he knew nothing better but hey, I have no problem with that. again, it’s fine to make him religious, I’d be delighted but it’s ALSO fine to make him not religious.

2. I think that people only write Top!Nicky out of political correctness. OKAY. I apologize for this. I thought like this because I have accounts telling me that they were pressured into writing top!nicky or they wanted more readerships so I make a BIG assumption. I realized this is only a small part of switch and top!nicky fics and the big bulk of this must be out of genuine care. So yeah, I apologize for thinking that people only write top!nicky out of political correctness. I think writers should be allowed to write whatever they want. Yes this includes top!Nicky. And in whatever kinks they want it. However, this still doesn’t change that the discourses do scare people away from writing top!joe. Write top!nicky however you want, but stop vague-blogging about top!joe. racism isn’t inherent to top!joe and you can always remind people to be mindful with their writings but discouraging people from writing top!joe is not the solution.

3. Top!joe is racist and people in the discord are racist. Okay, I am gonna touch several aspects why top!joe discord is considered racist: (1) because I don’t like to switch them, therefore I am racist. Sorry that’s not how it works. I have a clear preference and that’s just how I roll. Besides, a lot of people in the discord (including me) think either they switch (because they are 900 yo) or joe just doesn’t like bottoming. I’m not the kind of people who refers to reality for fiction I consume but people who prefer to top or to bottom exist (2) i want to be away from accountability and responsibility. Nope. The reason I made it is because I wanted to gather people with same interest as mine.

4. I paint Yusuf as aggressive and the whole discord like him being an aggressive top. I think this is the only reason why the discord is seen in a negative light. Because wow what a coincidence that someone vagueblogged my discord at the day I celebrated about Nicky suggesting 20 years and wrote a post about how Joe is allowed to be angry. And beside someone made the WRONG assumption that we are focusing on Joe’s anger and violence (what). Okay, I don’t know how to break this down. But I will try. First, yes I was overjoyed at the news. Because I’m one of the people that do not like feral!nicky headcanon. I liked it at first bc it was funny but then it was twisted into Nicky being cold. So I don’t like it (lol), I still like it though but like I don’t seriously think that way. However, I never liked the idea that Nicky suggested higher than Joe. Because then his character just doesn’t click with me, there was a cognitive dissonance for me because joe clearly says nicky’s heart overflows kindness, you can see nicky as a medic in the credit montage. Also, from their body language and from the way the movie set em up, I think Joe is the one who suggested higher and I am glad to be proven right. Second, I did write a post about how Joe is allowed to be angry at Booker. People agreed with me, so I was not alone. But the reason I wrote that post is not because I wanted to paint yusuf as aggressive, but because I’m tired at people who think Joe shouldn’t display any negative emotions. I think it’s out of character. I do NOT think Joe is aggressive. That is NOT his wholeass personality. If you looked at my tog art tag, never once I portrayed Joe as anything aggressive. If I do, please show me. Third, people are conflating this with my post where I reblogged with a comment that implies aggressive Joe isn’t racism. Okay in this, the context is IN BED. It’s Joe being aggressive in BED. It’s literally BED ROLES AND FANTASY. I don’t even have a particular scenario in my head when I reblogged that, the original post clearly refers to bed roles with manhandling and kinks etc. like, why would you spank someone in public? Lastly, about the discord, NOPE, most people in the discord agree that Joe is either a GENTLE DOM or SERVICE TOP. But in my opinion, if someone likes Joe as an aggressive top (again, bed roles baby) I really don’t think it’s racism. It’s just... projection?

anyway, back to joe’s emotions, these are posts from a moroccan man (paragraph #7) and a brown woman whose posts I agree with. Let’s be real, people of color are expected to shut up in favor of white people’s fragile feelings.

Now, about racism in fandom. I understand the concern because muslim men are painted as violent and aggressive. You know what I will never forgive those radicals for taking away innocents lives and to leave a lasting damage in how muslims are perceived in the west. However, you have to keep in mind, Joe in the movie is far from being stereotyped. I mean, Gina and Marwan practically greenlit him? Now, you might have concerns that writers are gonna turn him into a walking stereotype which is... okay, I understand that concern. But the solution is to communicate this ‘hey I think you make him too stereotypical in this etc etc’ not “write more top!nicky AND shame top!joe” because again, top!joe is not inherently racist.

also some people mentioned that they hope I recognize racial bias in the ship. dude, that goes without saying, all aspects of your life will be influenced by racial biases. however, this kind of thing is not specific to fandom/shipping. Like I said I’m fucking brown, friends and families with facial features that cater to white expectation are treated better. I did say at the bottom of this post, yeah I did notice why it’s always a brown character who’s always openly mad. And that’s in itself a form of racial bias. Racial biases affect everyone, white or POC, it doesn’t matter. But I got an issue with how people think this is racism. like how convenient, if by falling to racial biases mean you are a racist then what about those white people who created this racial biases in the first place? and I noticed the persons who got the audacity to cry about everything in this fandom is white?? I mean okay, they don’t know what I am, but not everyone is comfortable with sharing their private information like ethnic group, faith, etc. what if they really don’t want to share it? Because like you said, racial bias, whether good or bad will affect me. Now, I don’t know what white people are feeling, I’m not white. However, based on my interactions with them. We’re all just people sharing same interest, it could be they fall into racial biases, but all we shared about are just regular HCs. Even people making a conscious effort to combat racial bias still in essence fall for racial bias. You just cannot escape it.

According to this post, fandom assumes that the bottom is the proxy of writers, I don’t think this is applicable to everyone but let’s just say it’s true and people tend to write about their projection better so I’m gonna assume the racism part comes from the fact that..yeah I do think the bottom usually gets more fleshed out as a result of them being the writers proxy, so somebody posted this in the discord which I agree because yes I do think there’s a lack about yusuf’s background especially when it comes to crusade era:

but since I know most writers aren’t muslims, to me it’s not so much about racism but they simply know nothing about it, and not always out of ignorance either but in this climate, if you get a thing or two wrong you’d get harassed. so *shrugs* I understand the reluctancy. But here’s the thing, this is not about top/bottom issue but because most of the fandom are white so they have more freedom in writing the white character. Anyway, plenty of people have projected themselves into yusuf already, the whole “top/bottom” thing in this fandom is not even a thing. Yes, some writers project on the bottom so if you prefer bottom!joe that’s fine, somebody in the discord is doing a research and it turned out top!joe wasn’t even a CLEAR majority in JULY. So clearly they got their share already?

so please, let’s stop with the vitriol. if people are preferring top!joe it’s clearly because of different preferences. it’s not that deep. it’s the same way with how some people are preferring top!nicky. But we’re being driven out based on a hypothetical scenarios? like what do you want? for us to cease existing??? don’t be ridiculous.

I know people won’t listen to me. So this is my suggestion: LETS JUST IGNORE THINGS YOU DON’T LIKE. LET’S ALL JUST AGREE TO DISAGREE.

#discourse #the old guard #joe x nicky #kaysanova #immortal husbands

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indianamoonshine · 4 years ago

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chapter iii | knightly behavior

summary: every summer you work on your father’s strawberry farm with your three sisters. it’s a way to take a break from the big city but summers in the midwest are hot and they linger. this year, your father’s old and mysterious friend shows up to stay on your land for a reason yet to be determined. din djarin seems dangerous, but kind enough, and the two of you quickly become…well, let’s fact it…smitten.

rating: (18+) for future and explicit sexual content.

author’s note: reader is well over eighteen for obvious reasons. i won’t ever go into physical detail about the reader’s appearance because we include everyone. this fic is pretty much a mix between pride & prejudice and call me by your name except without the und*rage crap we do not condone.

You looked upon him in a way that no one had ever looked upon him before.

And it was strange, he thought, because the two of you had been introduced not even twenty-four hours prior. But in your eyes was a subtle enchantment that made Din forget the misfortunes that brought him to the farm in the first place.

You smile politely at him, albeit a bit drunkenly, as he mends your wound. Your foot is propped against his thigh as you sit prettily upon the bathroom counter. Your eyes shine, cheeks rosy with alcohol and adrenaline. The thorn had been removed, but the cut still bled enough to upset Din. When you flinch at the peroxide, he himself grimaces as though he can empathize with your pain.

“I’m surprised I felt it at all,” you say to him as though you’re sheepish from the fall. “With all the vodka and whatnot.”

Din meets your gaze and catches himself staring at your petal-like lips. He forces himself to look away, as much as it burned, but he was far too concerned with your feelings at the gesture.

there was no way you could look at a man such as him the way he looked at you.

Din places a Band-Aid on your foot, sealing it gently, and inspects it once more. “This is a tender part of the body,” he says. He finds himself squeezing you gently in a show of affection he had not expected. He swallows before adding, “-I would be concerned if you didn’t.”

A flash of mischief crosses your face before you tease. “Are you a doctor, Mister Djarin?”

He finds himself chuckling lowly at the question. His answer was quite the opposite, but you needn’t know the true nature of his lot in life. If possible, he’d avoid being transparent in that regard for as long as fate allowed.

“No,” Din finds himself saying. “And you can call me Din.”

A bold choice, but when you embrace with a gentle smile. “My father always told me to refer to my elders with their respective titles.”

You were funny. Witty. Charming to the last. Din found himself growing more fond of you with each passing moment; even in your disheveled state did he think you beautiful.

He mustn’t become attached. You could very easily become ammunition if he weren’t careful. In his pursuit of sound welfare, you had almost become something of a villain; you were making it increasingly difficult to focus on protecting his own interests. In just a few hours, Din felt an unwarranted dedication to you.

He wasn’t comfortable with it.

But he didn’t know how to stop it.

Those of Mandalorian creed did not devote themselves to anyone outside of the order. They hunt and they seek – they survive. And to be senselessly bewitched by someone of such (what he would’ve once considered) little importance was preposterous.

Nonsensical.

Din hadn’t ever been irrational before. Everything was calculated.

Not anymore.

Din tries not to grin, but he can’t bear it. His body is traitorous. “Funny,” he quips. He releases your foot.

You remain silent for a moment, formulating thoughts of whatever it was celestial beings like you did in quietude.

“How did you and my father meet?” you ask after what felt like eons of stillness. “He hasn’t told us very much.”

Din starts to clean up the medical supplies – bits of paper from the Band-Aid and the hydrogen peroxide he had so carefully dabbed upon your skin.

He falters for a moment. While what he was about to say was the truth, it felt dirty. There was more to your father’s past than what you’d have believed and Din knew it wasn’t his place to expose any of it; he would have tread carefully.

“We met when we were teenagers,” he replies.

You let out a messy giggle – like it caught even yourself off guard. You place a hand against your mouth as though to cover the goofy smile. “So when dinosaurs ruled the Earth, then.”

The age-gap hadn’t been lost on Din.

He opens the cabinet very carefully to avoid bumping your head with it. The bathroom was in older shape compared to the rest of the house, so it came as no surprise when the mirror rattled loudly as it opened.

“I was the one who carried you to safety, remember?” Din meets your eyes, hoping you’d find the humor in them.

You do.

“Yes,” you boff. The twitter that escapes your mouth causes his heart to jump to his throat. “And now you’re mending me after a vicious rose bush attack.”

He cracks a grin, though slyly to avoid sharing any bemusement due to your jesting lip. He couldn’t help it; your devilment was far too pleasant to make him scornful.

“Thank you,” you add meekly, but you’re smiling and it’s more than enough gratitude he required.

He wishes to see you smile all the time.

Din’s placed both hands against the counter, consciously ignorant of the space between the two of you. He meant no harm by it – was simply leaning against the sturdiness of the tile. But as you watch him, there was a sense of longing Din hadn’t beheld in quite some time. He tries to avoid it – whatever it may be – by tearing his gaze away from yours and pushing himself off with a casual grunt.

You blink when he separates himself from you, eyes fluttering a bit carelessly, and expression computing back to its neutralness. He does the same, brows raising in panic at the sensation.

“We met while I was camping in Michigan – the UP.” He scratches the back of his head and leans against the wall with arms crossed.

Anything to look complacent.

He finds himself engrossed by the way your ankles cross over one another and how your legs swing. Your dress had threatened to expose the more fragile parts of you, but you were of sound enough mind to eschew that from happening. Had that occurred, Din would’ve punished himself for looking. He wasn’t a religious man by any means, but what was that verse in the Christian bible again? “And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire.”

Faith didn’t belong in his repertoire, but that particular verse was commonsensical enough to recite.

Over and over again, apparently.

“So you’re from around here then?” you inquire.

“You know that people can visit the Midwest, right?” he remarks.

He was certain you’d simper mockingly – and sure enough, you do. “You’re very bratty for an old man.”

Din takes pride in guessing your responses; it must mean something.

Before he returns, he allows himself to laugh. It’s not full-bodied, but it’s some of the most genuine laughter he’s been able to conjure in quite some time.

“I’m from Chile,” he answers, perfectly amused by your bantering. “I moved here when I was a child.”

He watches as your fingers tap against the tile of the counter. They were well manicured, but cut short, and he guessed that was because you worked with your hands. He respected that – admired it. You clearly come from humble background and trialing youth.

Din could relate to that.

And yet you’re still soft, kind – gracious in your endeavors. And he was not. He was clinical, meticulous in the frayed edges of an odyssey he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue anymore. The two of you were snow and flame, and the old wife’s tale certainly wasn’t true. Opposites don’t attract. Opposites – the grunting, savage neanderthal of the two – are attracted. Someone ripened with softness such as yourself would surely never take rapture in a Neolithic man.

He could dream, of course. And he will.

“That’s very impressive,” you hum, chin raised in speculation.

Din furrows his brows, arms linking themselves around his frame tighter than before. It brought himself a semblance of comfort. For almost all his life, Din was the hunter and never the prey. He was large, foreboding enough to exude the kind of energy the average man could only theorize about, and yet here he stood…before you…

Feeling like the bounty he sought.

“Interesting to have been born in Chile?” he taunts.

Your brows crinkle, nose wiggling a bit to avoid showing your doubtful speculation. It wasn’t a look of disgust – Din was convinced you could never find fault in anyone. Maybe not even him. He hoped for this, anyway.

“No,” you reply. “To be able to keep that information from everyone.”

He shrugs, right brow arching in a show of faux derision. “Who said I was keeping it?” he all but drawled.

Something in his tone must’ve engaged your interest. Maybe you could see right through him; Din couldn’t find himself dumbfounded by the idea. You were smart enough to content with in a war of wit.

He notices how you head tilts in measured consideration. “You’re a very interesting man, Mister Djarin,” you whisper.

A heat flushes him from head to boot. He tears his fixation from the way your eyes swallow him whole – like a boa constrictor might do to a mouse. But he feels no fear for his safety – just his survival.

Because you were going to make this very difficult for him.

|||

TAG LIST: @dancingwiththeplanets, @ficthots, @t3a-bag, @dodgerandevans & there was one more person BUT I ACCIDENTALLY ERASED THEIR MESSAGE I’M SO SORRY TO WHOEVER YOU WERE PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

#SORRY #strawberryfic #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mandolorian x reader #din x reader

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razorblade180 · 4 years ago

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Twin Snowflakes part 25: Date Night pt2

Atlas, city of dreams. It was a name post people overlooked and even more scoffed at. Still, it was a little hard not to believe the title from the way it looked; especially with the hundreds of lights illuminating the snow covered city. Veronica was no stranger to Atlas at night but she still couldn’t help but marvel at the sights passing by her window. They were almost as charming as the boy sitting next to her in the backseat, almost. Her mind still couldn’t believe this was happening. Veronica was going on a dinner date with Nick. How did that happen!? Well...she knew how it happened but it was still crazy! The situation wasn’t ideal but Veronica wasn’t exactly upset about it. Not in the way she had shown earlier. Veronica simply wished this event happened as a result of her efforts more than Valerie’s mistakes. Then again, all’s fair in love and war. If Valerie was going to be childish enough to hurt Nick, then that was all the more reason for Veronica not to pull her punches in winning him over. Not that she ever did, for the most part.

She looked over at Nick to see him sinking into his seat, eyes closed and body relaxed. “He must be more exhausted than he let on. She thought, listening to his breathing. He must’ve sensed Veronica’s gaze on him because his eyes opened seconds later. He caught the girl off guard by turning to her and smiling gently.

“Something on my face?” He asked.

His voice was a little deeper than before because of his short rest. The change made Veronica a little timid. “Uhh no. Hehe, your face is fine!” She uttered terribly. A snicker from Winter upfront made Veronica turn a little red. Her ears fell down as she realized how dumb that sounded. “I mean there’s nothing on it. That’s what I…yeah.” She really wanted to stop talking.

Nick sat up straight and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry I drifted a bit. I took a nap when I got home but I guess I was a little more spent than I realized.”

“No worries. A smooth ride puts me to sleep all the time. If you don’t mind me asking, where did you go? Back at the manor your mom said you went to go talk to someone?”

“Oh, that…” he looked in the rear view mirror to look at Winter, who looked back at with a smile.

“The lady asked you a question. Don’t mind me. It honestly isn’t as big of a deal as you think Nicholas. No need to tiptoe around it with your mother, uncle, and I. We’re adults after all.”

“I know. I just...I don’t know, feel a little guilty if I wasn’t careful about it.”

“You are just fine.” Winter reassured him. “To answer your question Veronica, Nicholas likes to visit his grandparents' graves to pay respects and ponder.”

Her ears perked up. This was news to her. Well, not entirely. She had known Nick liked to pray. He’s done it for as long as she could remember. Anytime things were rough or really important, Nicholas could be found giving a small payer. It was only later did she put together that the habit must’ve been formed during his sister’s time in the hospital. Though not religious in the slightest, Veronica could understand praying in a situation like that, but for his grandparents…?

“That’s a little strange, considering you never met either and one of them wasn’t exactly…” She wanted to pick her words carefully but it was hard not to call Jacques a piece of shit. “Let’s just call your grandfather a not so good influence.”

“Heh, that’s certainly putting it lightly.” Nick chuckled, “I guess I do it because...I’m a hit afraid. For me, I can’t imagine anything worse than passing away and the people left behind, the world, it just forgets about you; as if you had no impact on life. I wouldn’t wish that fate on even my enemies. Also, my grandfather’s wrongdoings in a weird way made my mom the person she’d be to have me and Summer.” He smiled at his own weird logic. “Gotta at least be thankful for that, right?”

His reasonings were flawed in some manner but completely understandable to Veronica. “Same rules apply to your grandmother?”

“More or less. I know it’s a little odd.”

“Yeah but it’s also very much a thing you’d do. Always trying to bring someone peace, it’s like your day job at this point.”

Nick shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

Winter began pulling over to the curbside, finally reaching their destination. A well known set down restaurant called Blended, known for its many different cuisines that specialized in ingredients that involved purée styled cooking; hence the name. Winter watched Nick get out of the car to escort Veronica, only for the girl to playfully roll her eyes as she got out of the car by herself.

“Well at least she’s consistent with her spunky attitude.” Winter thought, actually approving of the act. “You two be safe. Nick, don’t give your mother a heart attack.”

“How would I? This is just dinner, not a battlefield.”

“Knowing you, anything could happen.” She gave a little smirk before leaving them to ponder that diss.

Nick was both flattered and insulted. “Anyways…” he held his arm out which Veronica happily grabbed. The two went off to make their reservation. Tonight was going to be nice. Like Nick said, it’s just dinner. What could happen? The inside of the restaurant blew Veronica away. Elegant marble tile, pearl white cloths over the table, mood lighting,crystal chandeliers scattered about like if they were as cheap as lightbulbs, and the most divine scents imaginable. They had only entered the front door and yet her nose could pick out an array of ingredients in the kitchen. Veronica hadn’t seen the menu but she already knew there was gonna be a steak in front of her before this night was over.

“You know my opinion of Atlas might actually go up depending on this food?”

Nick chuckled at her comment and went towards the counter where a blonde woman in a waitress outfit stood at the ready. “Hello. Schnee, reservation for two. The usual spot please.”

“Why of course Mr. Sch-” the waitresses eyes quickly caught attention to Nicholas’s plus one. “Umm, Mr.Schnee? You know we actually may have a table on the private upper level if you like?” She said with a smile, maintaining eye contact with him.

“No thank you. Too close to the smoking area. I’ll take my normal table, the one by the window.” He said calmly. Nick took a moment to look at her name tag. He hadn’t seen this one before. “Sophia, that’s a nice name.”

Worry crept up on the corners of the waitress’s smile. “If smoke is the issue then may I recommend-”

“Sophia.” He said again. “Is there a reason in particular that I can’t have my window seat?”

“Well...it’s...just….” she fidgeted her hands, doing her best to not look at Veronica and cause a scene. “.....Right this way sir.” Sophia grabbed two menus and quickly went to lead them before Veronica put a hand on the menus. “M-Ma’am?” She stuttered.

Veronica wanted a good look at her but the waitress would barely meet her eyes. All Veronica could get was a side glance and a worked up heartbeat. “Nick, what do you usually drink?”

“Uhhh apple cider?”

Veronica took the menus out of Sophia’s hands. “Cool. Sophia, he’ll have that and I’d like water. Seeing how it’s a usual spot we’re going, Nick could just lead me himself. Thank you. Nick, if you would?” Veronica said, grabbing his arm.

“Okaaaay?” Nick didn’t question her orders. He grabbed the menus from her and walked through the restaurant. It was past the time most ate, but several clanging plates nearby told him there were a few late customers; about three people every five tables or so. Seeing them was easy even with dim lighting, but that also meant they saw him. A few looked up before continuing their meals while others stared for a couple seconds, forcing him to awkwardly wave as he went by.

“Sorry, usually it’s emptier by now. I come at this time to avoid drawing attention of people who always got a thing or too to say about the Schnees”

“Or the company they keep…” Veronica added. Their table was on the right side a little more than half way towards the back, right next to a window that showed the snowy streets and dazzling lights. A real winter wonderland sight. No wonder Nick liked this spot. She finally sat down. “By any chance do you know the owner of the restaurant?”

“Dyle, what about him?” He opened his menu and began reading.

“That waitress felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack. She really didn’t want us sitting here too. Care to guess why?” Veronica reached over and pressed the menu down with a finger, making sure that Nick saw her ears wiggle. “This is why I wanted a bow.”

“Point taken, but I remember saying screw anyway that has a problem with you. I’ve never known Dyle to have a problem with faunus by the way.”

“Was that because he showed that he didn’t or because you just weren’t paying attention?” Vee noticed the waitress walk over. Sophia once again avoided her gaze, in favor of Nick’s. She also made sure to place Veronica’s water on the table but handed the cider to Nick directly.

“Ready to order?” She asked.

Nick had noticed the treatment of the drinks and had been aware of the eye contact. He only wanted a little time to think about everything as a whole. He didn’t have Veronica’s hearing but he did notice the paleness of her skin. “Are you well?”

“H-Huh?”

“You’re pale. Sick, or spooked by anything?”

“Oh, I’m fine…” The woman fidgeted. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Sophia quickly left the table.

At the same time, Veronica took a sip of Nick’s cider. “Well at least this place has good drinks. Be sure to ask for a second. I’d ask myself but you know, playing things safe around our jumpy friend.”

“Yeah….” Nick flipped through another page. “So there’s either one of two things happening right now. One, our waitress is scared of you, or-”

“A certain somebody wouldn’t want her serving us. Me, is what I should actually say. Gee, I wonder who?”

Nick couldn’t deny this was odd. “Again, point taken. However, it would be weird how many times Dyle has served my family, who actively promotes faunus rights. We’ve held meetings with your mother here before and other faunus.”

Vee always loved Nick’s simple logic, but boy was it not doing him any favors tonight. “Lesson time, my dear knight. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt of you not thinking critically with how tired you are at the moment.” Vee propped her arm on the table and rested her head in her palm. “We aren’t our parents. We’re just their brats. Adults know better than to pick on the pups when they’re around their source of income. Also, how many of those meetings were in perfect view from the street?”

Nick paused for a moment, then looked at the view. “.....None.” He closed his eyes, mentally kicking himself. “They’re up top and away from prying eyes.

“Out of sight, out of mind. Out of the way of any potential customers who may think twice of entering. Translation, private seating is a sweet way of saying it’s embarrassing to have you front and center.”

“Veronica, I didn’t-”

“Mr. Schnee!” A jolly voice called.

The teens looked to the side to see a husky redheaded man in a chef’s uniform and a hat as big as his handlebar mustache.

“Dyle.” Nick said, noticing Sophia turning ghost white a few feet behind him.

“How is the young heir on this fine night!? Craving our pastries again I bet! Oh ho ho ho!” The man patted his stomach at his one witty remark. His olive colored eyes shifted to Veronica. “My, my, where are my manners!? I’m Head Chef Dyle! Clearly Nicholas forgot his manners too for not introducing his partner in crime this lovely night. Though I guess there’s little need whenever you have credibility among the higher class? That and those lilac eyes, I’ve served a few times in the form of one fiery huntress who loves my steak! I assume your-”

“Yes, I’m her kid. To what do we owe the pleasure of the head chef himself coming to greet us?” Veronica said, hiding her attitude with fake jolliness.

“One of my little worker bees had told me one of my favorite customers was here yet again. Imagine my surprise to see him without his typical plus one. I tell you, that Valerie sure can eat until I feel a hole in my wallet! Ho! Ho! Ha! I crack myself up. Have you met her.”

“Occasionally. Sports art my thing. More of a cooking contest watcher myself. When I realized I get to try your steak I nearly jumped for joy!”

“Why thank you! Nicholas my boy, you sure bring a surprise each and every time, but you should know better. A table in the back near this drafty window at this time of year, and at night! Up your game. I’d be more than happy to let you two enjoy the comfiest seat in the building. Nothing sets the tone like the second floor. I can get you a private table right this second!”

If that wasn’t a slap in the face, then Nick didn’t know what was. Has this really gone over his head? Nick wanted to believe this was a classic case of misunderstanding, yet that felt inn accurate the longer Veronica looked at him. There was no anger, only a reserved look that poorly hid the fact she was uncomfortable. Nick stopped feeling sorry for himself, choosing to do what his family did best; put on the face that commanded respect. The face of Atlas’s most powerful family.

“Dyle?” Nick spoke, dragging out the chef’s name like a sigh of boredom. Nick focused one the menu in his hands while giving the man an occasional glance with only his eyes. “Do you know why I come here? I’ll give you a hint.” He tapped on the window.

“The...view-”

“Nope.” Nick said firmly, closing his menu. “It’s the view and the respect I believed this place had for its customers. All of its customers, but tonight is making me think I believed wrong. You’ve never been this insistent whenever Valerie and I ate here. I gotta say I’m a bit concerned. Between your behavior and our waitress, I can’t help but feel like this has everything to do with my lovely date and her perfect features.”

“Perfect.” Veronica thought, bashfully folding her ears.

“Dyle, am I correct to reevaluate my beliefs in this restaurant. No lying now. I want your honest answer.”

The jolly man wasn’t feeling so jolly anymore. Dyle’s smile turned into grimace teeth and panicked eyes. “N-No! it’s just...just!” He looked around and through the window for any watchful eyes. “It’s business. Your family should understand th-”

“My family is no longer in the business of just caring about good business. Fail to understand that and you won’t have to worry about yours.” Nick stood up and finally looked at the giant of a man as best he could. He could see it, the resentment and frustration building within the chef. By all means who wouldn’t be upset when against a member of the most dangerous family name, blatantly throwing power around like if it actually earned. Nick understood the look. If Whitley taught him anything, it was that look does nothing but keep the hate alive. Flex power, but wield it generously.

“Dyle, I will choose to believe you are in fact a good man.”

“W-What?” He said, caught off guard by the tone shift.

“If this is strictly business then we’ll treat it like so. Now there isn’t any scenario where I don’t get what I want, but I’m more than happy to get what we all want. The first thing is you apologizing to Veronica. After that you will tell all your staff to refrain from enforcing whatever faunus rules you have given them; followed by creating the best steaks you can ever create for this table. Your work won’t be done though. I do expect a dessert that will blow our mind. It is only after creating such a grand meal with your hands that you can rest easy knowing that it will have a fairly generous contribution to its stability. Indefinitely.”

“You’re...going to invest here?”

Nick sat back down. “That depends on you. A pretty decent offer I’d say. Equality and a good meal in an exchange for financial stability. Is that good with you Veronica?”

“Hmmmm, I say we should sweeten our pot. An easy fix with an official change in this place's mission statement as a public service. One that states on paper that this restaurant is for all. This isn’t a compromise.”

Nick smiled. “You heard the lady. Is it a deal?”

Dyle stood, confused by the offer. By all means it was not expected or heard of. “So this is how a Schnee conducts business now?”

“This is how I do business.”

“Hmph! Then I guess it’s fortunate you have deep enough pockets to back it up.” The man removed his chef’s hat and bowed. “Please excuse my blatant disrespect, Mrs. Belladonna.”

“Apology not accepted, but a deal is a deal and who am I to not capitalize on it for my people? Just keep your end of the bargain and I’m satisfied.”

“Ma’am.” Dyle rose from his bow, swiftly exiting to the kitchen. Veronica took a sigh of relief. Finally the man was gone. Any longer and she would’ve said something worth being glared at.

“Sorry about all of this.” Nick said with a guilty look. “Didn’t expect this level of confrontation tonight. Here I was thinking I was taking you to a stress free spot in Atlas.”

“I don’t see why you’re apologizing. After all, you are the one who told me not to hide my ears. Screw what others think, remember?” Veronica gave him a comforting smile before getting another sip of his cider. “The occasional loudmouth or prejudiced jerk is nothing new. Still… thanks for sticking up for me. It’s usually me being the mouthpiece for others or myself. It’s nice not taking the lead.”

Nick propped his head up on his right hand “Glad to be of service.”

“I can see that. How’d you know the waitress was being forced and not racist herself?”

“I’ve never met my grandfather, but his handy work I’m too familiar with.” Nick said, staring out the window.

Veronica could tell she had walked onto a sensitive subject. Between him trying to avoid talking about the grave in front of his family, it was easy to understand what he meant. She wouldn’t press the issue any further. Now wasn’t the time to get heavy. “You know if you keep looking out the window like that, I might just faint from your handsomeness.”

Nick’s face turned red. He whipped his head around to see his date smirking at him. “Oh why you gotta tease me like that!? It’s embarrassing.”

Veronica could only giggle as the flustered boy did his best to hide his face. “That’s more like it. Just keep smiling for me. That’s all I need.”

xxxxx

While a dinner date had begun in the city, a house breakout had started half an hour later. Schnee Manor had gone quiet. Dinner had ended long ago and all adults had retired to their room. Summer couldn’t ask for more. The young huntress in training double checked her supplies before making the great escape. Black wig? check. Favorite pair of ripped jeans with a nice leather jacket; check and check. She put her guitar case on her back and looked in the mirror.

“And mom said no good would come from mentioning Bleiss? Well...I am sneaking out, so I guess she had a point.” Summer left her room and began carefully walking through the halls with her boots in hand. Can’t be too careful. Even the finest houses can creak. Thanks to Nick being out, the alarm wasn’t on. Escaping would be cake walk. All she had to do was pick an exit that wouldn’t be seen or heard. Pesky cameras and windows made that a bit more of a challenge.

“Mom and dad and probably still catching up with Blake and Yang, so I should probably leave through the-”

“Beautiful night for an escape.”

Summer whipped her head around to see Blake looking at her, arms folded and smiling. Summer’s face went pale. “Es-Escape!? Me!? No...I was just….”

Blake raised her eyebrow. “Just…?”

“Esssscaping- yeah I was escaping.” Summer held her head down in defeat. She really needed to get better under pressure. “How did you know?”

“I heard the sound of glyphs earlier when you said you were eating. Multiple glyphs, launching something outside and around the house. You know it might’ve been less suspicious if you decided to grab whatever you needed, and haul it back to your room normally? No way Yang or I would know if it’s out of the ordinary.”

“Hindsight isn’t always 20/20. Plus I like plans. This one appears to be a bust though.”

“Not exactly. I won’t tell if you won’t.” Blake winked.

Summer’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what? You’re okay with me sneaking out.”

“It won’t earn me any warm feelings with Weiss but it’s clear to everyone in and out of this house that you need an outlet. I do have some conditions however.”

Summer squinted. Now she knew where Veronica got her deal making skills from. “I’m listening.”

“First, cut your parents some slack and go to school every day until after the tournament. I heard you’ll fail otherwise.”

“Ugh, why does everyone want me to- okay, fine. I was planning on it anyway. Next one?”

“Please try and be Veronica’s friend.”

“I’m sorry, did you ask me the impossible?” Summer said, making Blake frown. “What!? It’s the truth. Friendship is a two way street and both lanes are closed.

“Listen, I know my daughter hasn’t been the nicest to you, and I know what I’m asking is completely selfish. However, I’m asking anyway. Maybe if she had actual friends to open up to, then things wouldn’t be so bad for her.” Blake sighed.

“Are you trying to tell me Mrs. Fashion designer with perfect skin doesn’t have a line of people trying to rub elbows with her?”

“Hehe, you’d be surprised… Besides, I figured you would know first hand people like that aren’t exactly friend material, Mrs. Teen Idol.”

Summer bit her lip. “Fair point, got me there.” She folded her arms and began tapping her foot. Blake meant well, but it really felt like she was asking Summer to move a mountain. Especially after the forest incident. “Really twisting my arm here.”

“Could you at least make a strong attempt? You both will be spending more time together after all.”

“Hmmm, fine.”

Blake squinted, “Strong attempt, Summer.”

“I heard you.” Summer turned her head away like the snooty rich girl regular folk saw her as. “Is that all?”

“One more thing.” Blake walked up to the young girl and placed her hands on Summer’s shoulders. “Never forget you’re not alone.”

“.....Yes ma’am. Thanks, I mean it.”

Blake rubbed Summer’s head. She’s grown since the last time they met, yet still oh so small. Not to mention a bit frail. Summer may have looked like her mother but Blake could see how much more gentle she was in comparison. Not that Weiss wasn’t a softie in her own right, but she also had an uncompromising defiance. Blake didn’t see that in Summer. Her defiance by all means could be compromised. With any luck and help, it wouldn’t be. “Okay, I’ve held you hostage long enough. Have fun and be safe. I’ll feel guilty otherwise.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be at my home away from home. If I don’t get lost in the music then I’ll definitely be back before midnight.”

“And if you do get lost in the music?”

“Make sure the bathroom window in the third hall downstairs is unlocked. Sneaking is easier at ground level. Bye now.”

Summer gave Blake a hug then rushed off out of sight. Blake couldn’t help but sigh. “Oh boy, maybe I’m the softie?”

xxxx

“Nick?”

“H-huh!?” The boy shook himself out of his daze. Veronica chewed another slice of steak while giving Nick a look of concern. Nick quickly tried to snap back to reality. “Something wrong with steak?”

“Oh something is definitely wrong, but not with the steak.” Veronica took a sip of her third cup of cider. “Maybe you can tell me what’s wrong? Nick you’ve been spacing out more and more ever since we got our entrees. Is a twin thing happening that I’m not aware of?”

“What? Oh, no, no it’s nothing like that. Sorry I’m just more out of it than I thought tonight.

Veronica nodded. “I see. Well… I guess that’s what happens when your crush hurts your feelings.” She watched Nick’s face turn from shock to guilt in no time at all. “You know it’s fine to talk about it right?”

“No it’s not. This is supposed to be a date and what kind of jerk complains about relationship stuff in front of somebody who has feelings for them? It’s not exactly dating etiquette.”

“Oh absolutely. Just thinking about another woman while there’s one in front of you is a real low blow. Frankly I am a bit bruised by it.”

“That’s why-” his words were silenced by the sweet taste of steak Veronica placed in his mouth.

“Let me finish while you chew on that, kay? Yeah my poor little pride is a bit bruised, but it’s not like I don’t already know where I stand when it comes to Valerie; much like how I know you’ve been doing well to try and set that aside. However, I’m here to tell you that’s flawed thinking. At least when you’re dealing with me. I’d much rather you talk about it with me than mentally check out whenever we’re together. So seeing how this dinner date is already far from conventional, let’s not beat around the bush a talk about the girl on your mind.”

Even though she was clearly being nice, Nick couldn’t help but feel like even more of a jerk! “It’s- it’s okay, really. We don’t have to make a big deal out of-”

“Ten minutes.”

“Huh?”

Veronica pulled out her scroll and set a timer. “It was your bright idea to have a ten minute unfiltered grace period between us. I’m calling in your ten minutes sucker. Deny it and I’ll never agree to doing it like you want.” She hit the timer. “Now spill your guts.”

His own system, used against him. Nick wasn’t sure if he should be happy Veronica remembered it, or upset. “Well played. Fine I’ll talk. Yes, Valerie has me lost in thought.”

“About what?”

“About a lot of things.”

“Nah uh, it’s something specific that has you upset. Might as well come clean now.”

“You’re really not gonna make this easy huh?”

“Nope! Tough love is tough, now speak.” Veronica smiled.

“Sigh, Val...made it seem like I was embarrassing to be around. That I stick my nose into everything. It’s not just her too. Summer said something similar to me butting in as well. The entire thing has been bugging me. Am I really that annoying to them?” Nick slouched in his chair. “Have been pushing them away?”

Veronica clicked her tongue. He opened up faster than she expected. “While I can’t speak much about you being embarrassing since I don’t think you are by any means; I can totally say you do make it your mission to be a helping hand in every situation. So yeah, you do butt in.”

The waitress came back and Veronica quickly gathered their dirty dishes to give to the actually nice woman. “All that being said, that’s nothing new Nick. You’ve always been like that. I’d say it’s actually one of your better qualities.”

“It is?” He said confused.

“Mmmhmm. I’ve never minded it at the very least. There’s a comfort in knowing there’s a helping hand in your corner. Plus it’s not like you blatantly ignore any request telling you to stop. You did give Valerie space when she asked for it after all. As for your sister, she’s all talk. I can tell just from reviewing footage and our short trip to the forest that Summer is quick to depend on you. If you ask me, she’s more annoyed at herself for that than she is at you.”

“I doubt it. They both gave me that same look of frustration. Especially Valerie. One minute she wants to be included whenever I’m in trouble but the next she’s telling me to take a hike. It’s pissing me off.” Nick rubbed his hand through his hair and let out a sigh. This entire thing felt like a complex math equation he didn’t know how to solve.

Veronica could tell by the look on his face how conflicted this made him. How conflicted Valerie made him. Needless to say, she was a bit envious. “Why do you love her so much?” She asked bluntly.

Nick’s face turned red. “Uhhh what?”

“I’m just trying to understand what makes her special. After all, Nicholas Schnee could have a girlfriend everyday of the week, yet he fawns over one. The same one since kindergarten. It can’t only because you’ve known each other for so long. What makes her special in your eyes?” Veronica knew she was practically asking to get hurt but she had to know. What was it that made Valerie different from her?

“D...Do I really have to answer that? It’s kinda sudden.”

“The clock has five more minutes on it and you have a girl willing to listen to gush over another girl. Money can’t buy you a scenario this sweet. Fess up.”

Nick took a long sip of his cider before taking an even longer breath. It would’ve been nice if he could do this for five minutes straight but that would be asking for too much. The only way out was through.

“It’s not the most complicated reason if you’re wondering. Growing up the way I have has had numerous blessings I won’t begin to look down on. Family, money, influence; all of that has been a joy. That being said, I didn’t really revel in being who I am as a Schnee until maybe four or five years ago. Everything I did or everywhere I went, a person would always watch what I would do. Nick is gonna go far. Oh he’s great at that, perhaps he’ll go pro? That sort of thing. Ice skating was just a hobby at first. I did it because it was relaxing and mom liked skating with me. I never paid attention if I was actually good at the moves I tried.”

“But...the people did?” Veronica asked, receiving a nod.

“I didn’t think much of it. I was only around seven perhaps? It actually made me happy. So what if a few people liked my routine? I was on the ice for fun and happened to win a medal. But then, as I kept on skating, a pressure started to form. More eyes started watching me. Waiting for the next medal, talking my skill up, muttering rumors about the contests I didn’t participate in, shaking their heads at my failures…they weren’t looking at me. Only my achievements and shortcomings. Ice skating stopped being fun, again. Mom was always quick to tell me to never pay them mind and eventually convinced me to take a break from it altogether. I could never skate again and she’d be perfectly fine with that.”

“Of course. She shared that with you as an outlet, not a sport. I think she knows better than anyone how cruel it is to make a child participate in performances just because they’re good at it.”

“Yeah, hehe, she really has the perfect playbook of what not to do with a child. It would be cool if it wasn't also sad. Anyways, the break was well needed. People eventually stopped talking and I skated in private. By then I’ve taken up some early combat stuff. Nothing serious. Fencing, a few things a bit more in the huntsman category but for more of sparring and building blocks of it all. Valerie had taken notice one day and got the biggest smile. Finally we can do some real horse playing! She shouted and cheered. Next thing I knew I was being driven to the gym with a hyperactive twelve year old who may have been a little too eager to hit her best friend.” He chuckled.

“And they say I’m feisty. So what? Did she hit you so hard you thought it was cool?” Veronica teased.

“N-Well it was cool, but that wasn’t the linchpin! We were having fun sparring. I was having fun. Learning how she did and showing me the ropes everyday was a blast, until one day I did something really cool I guess. Cool enough that people noticed; and kept noticing. People started talking again about what this might possibly mean for me and began watching my practices. I remember starting to feel the overwhelming stress build up again. It was frustrating thinking that this thing I do for me was about to be taken for the people again. I wanted to cry on the spot. Next thing I knew, Valerie had gotten on this platform to make herself taller and kindly told everyone that they were interrupting our training. To my surprise, they left. It only hit then that I’ve been so caught up in trying to avoid them or please, that I never once tried telling everyone to leave me alone. I asked Valerie how she could easily tell people that also expect so much from her to leave because they were in way. Why would I ever care about their input? I do what I want for me. They’re just along for the ride. S-”

BZZZ! BZZZ! BZZZ! Ten minutes had finally gone by. Veronica clicked her tongue. She reached to shut her alarm off when Nick reached for her scroll.

“It’s only right to finish a story this far in. Not much left anyways.” Nick shut the alarm off to continue. “As I was saying, Soon after that is when I began getting back into ice skating and really started participating for myself; figuring out my agenda in all things I did. Especially tournaments. That’s the gist of it. Like I said, silly.”

“No, I get. Valerie gave you back your enjoyment of your hobbies. Helped make a new lease on life. How could that not be a big deal? If anything it makes me irritated that you have such nice reasoning.” Veronica poked her lips out in a dramatically pouty way before turning head to the window. “Guess I should’ve figured as much. She did to you what you did for me. No wonder you like her. Still, I’m not phoning things in yet. Especially if those are the words she told you.” Veronica stopped herself from clenching the table cloth. “That hypocrite. Not caring about their input my ass…” Veronica let out a little chuckle. That was certainly informative. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“Yeah don’t thank me yet.” Nick put thirteen minutes on the timer and smiled. “I believe it’s your turn?”

Veronica’s pleased expression quickly turned to panic. “Wait, what!?”

“Why do you like me?” He asked without mercy. The flush on Vee’s cheeks was redder than wine. “Y-You can’t just ask a girl why they like you!”

“Oh but you can ask me about my romantic feelings without question.” Vee nodded shameless.

“Yep that pretty much sums it up. Besides it’s not like I asked about your feelings towards me. That’s embarrassing as hell.” Veronica watched Nick purse his lips and gave her a look that screamed “seriously?” It was enough to make her start combing her fingers through her hair and look at the coconut cream pie slice that the waitress somehow managed to put under her nose without detection. “I...specifics are bothersome to explain. Just understand that...Nick, you’ve…” she could feel her heart pound in her own ears. “You’ve given me a lot of strength, hope actually. In ways I can’t begin to explain. I’m grateful; dare I say blessed.”

Those words truly shocked him. It wasn’t everyday a term like that came from Vee’s lips. “Blessed huh? That’s a big deal coming from a nonbeliever like yourself.”

“And despite knowing that you still tell me how you pray for me. Not that I particularly mind that I’m in your thoughts regularly. Also it’s rude to just straight up say nonbeliever. I have beliefs. Now the feelings associated and to what the beliefs are is a different story. Thank you for the prayers nonetheless though.”

“Maybe one day you’ll pray for me, hehe.”

Veronica smirked. “I doubt any deity would heed the words. I’ll keep the praying business to the faithful.”

“Fair enough.” Nick took a scoop of ice cream off his fudge brownie and looked at the timer. “Seeing how you’re a bit resistant to tell me why you feel the way you do towards me, can you at least be frank with me by telling me why you’re so adamant about not getting along with Valerie or Summer?”

Very slumped over. “Of all the questions, you’re set on detective work?”

“This timer thing isn’t even meant for interrogation. I offered this as a way to vent without consequences but you’re the one who wanted to play twenty questions.” He finally took a bite of dessert. “Tough it out” He said, a warm smile on his face from the flavor.

“Sigh, guess I have no right to complain. I wouldn’t say I have any real personal grievances towards them, even though I have a few unpleasant memories of your sister harassing me when we were little.”

“We were five.”

“Well I was six and a hurt tail is still a hurt tail, but I digress. Those two, they’re not the kind of people I find myself liking very much. Summer always wraps individuals into her pity party by acting like she’s making a genuine effort, and then Valerie, sigh, there’s not a thing about her that doesn’t make me want to hit her. I know you like her and wouldn’t say she’s a bad natured person, but…” Veronica held her tongue before she overstepped. These were still Nick’s loved ones.

Nick on the other hand wasn’t satisfied. “Say it, what’s on your mind. Zero consequences remember?”

“You say that but it’s not like we’ll magically forget what we’ve said in this last twenty six minutes.”

“No, but I trust you won’t hold my words and secrets against me. Do you trust me? Good or bad, this is meant to clear the air. I’d be a hypocrite to not let you speak your mind after asking you to.” It was a bit brash but Nick reached for Vee’s hand and held it.

Veronica felt her own breathing slow down at the sight of Nick’s reassuring smile. Her eyes went to her pie to avoid his gaze. He was too disarming for his own good. It made her feel guilty for doubting, as well as relying on him the way she did.

“Valerie isn’t a good friend, not you and I, not your sister for that matter. Yeah she might help out because she’s a good person but she’s far too self centered in my opinion. I mean just take tonight for example. You’ve made plans with her that fell apart because everything you two do are on her own terms. What friend gets upset that another saved them in a training exercise, or uses a pet name that the other person doesn’t like!?”

Nick raised his eyebrow. “Pet name?”

“Summer hates to be called Princess, right? That could be a thing with me personally but with the way she gets so pissed about it I would think Valerie using it would be annoying. Yet she does it anyway. Like how she’s quick to try to act like she’s above something when she clearly isn’t. I-”

“Vee? My hand…” Nick winced, his hand being squeezed like a stress ball.”

“Crap…” Veronica immediately loosened up to look at it. Thankfully her nails didn’t dig into him but she did make his hand red. Veronica gently begins rubbing it in some pointless attempt to relieve the pain. “Sorry I… I shouldn’t lose my temper like that. Ugh I know better too. Maybe steak was a bad idea after all?”

Nick watched as Veronica became fixated on the light injury. Her ears had fallen down and the anger she had while speaking had vanished entirely. All she could do was rub his hand. “It’s fine, honest. I don’t even feel pain anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have felt pain at all. This is the second time I’ve hurt you.”

“Well...I did actively walk into a fight the first time. Faunus reasons or not, a person should expect to get whaled on a bit when breaking a fight up.”

Veronica knew Nick was trying to be nice and there was truth to his words. That still didn’t make her feel much better. “I guess there’s one thing Valerie and I have in common. We get you hurt for needless reasons that could be avoided.”

“Vee…”

“Hey, I know she makes you happy and I shouldn’t really try to persuade you to feel otherwise, but… I can’t help but feel like… if you were to ever allow it one day if you’ll look my way, because…Nick, I think I can make you even happier.” She gently held his hand with her trembling ones.

Nick couldn’t see her eyes but could see how the blush took over her. She wasn’t the only one. How could he not feel embarrassed when Veronica Belladonna, the most brazen girl he knew, was now currently holding his hand sheepishly while her tail swayed side to side. Thank goodness he had set a timer beforehand. The buzzer finally went off and Veronica snapped out of her trance, letting go. Rather than speak further, her pie became the scapegoat, getting devoured without interruption. Nick wanted to say something but even the work up to speaking made her face redder by the second. Besides, the timer hit zero. He had to respect the rules he made. A lot was learned within a short time.

“It’s been some time since we had a talk like that. Thanks, Veronica. I feel like I know you even better than before.”

“Just...eat your dessert, please?” She said, embarrassed beyond belief. How could she say something so compromising like that!? Claiming to make him happier than Valerie was bolder than she meant to be.

xxxx

The rest of dinner was pretty quiet. Both of them couldn’t think of any light topics to discuss after prying into feelings. It wasn’t awkward to speak but felt more, inappropriate, so to speak. Both desserts were finished and the chef had passed his taste test. Nick would keep his end of the bargain. However, the generous tip he usually left for all workers involved was purposely missing. The chef had lost the privilege entirely. The waitress would be in for a shock the next time she checked her savings. No need to punish those in the crossfire after all. Veronica and Nick left without saying a word to anybody.

The two of them walked down the sidewalk in the season's chill embrace. Veronica felt the chill winds creep down her thin dress. It felt colder than in the forest. Not even a single person or car was on the street! Nothing but an ever forming winter wonderland!

“Eugh! I know walking home was my idea but maybe I should’ve thought ahead?”

Nick chuckled. “Maybe so?” He took his dress coat off and draped it over her shoulders. “Better?”

“Yeah but you just got over being sick. You can’t afford to catch another cold.”

“Relax, I got sick because of stress. Temperatures like this are nothing to anybody who lives here. The cold is nothing in the face of a real Atlesian. It’s in our blood!”

“And central heating is in your budget. Speaking of which, shouldn’t that be on full blast in the winter!? I mean my goosebumps have goosebumps.” Veronica shivered.

Nick smiled. “I’m glad you asked!” He took Veronica’s hand and quickly rushed over to a building with an awning for them to be under. “There’s a reason I picked a reservation for today. It’s the night manual resets happen.”

“Manual resets?”

Nick nodded. “Yep! You’re right about it being super cold. The lack of people is a dead giveaway.”

“What’s up with that? I thought Atlas was a city that never slept? It’s like a ghost town now. Nothing but….actually…” Veronica looked around the streets, lamps, and every building. There were noticeable less lights. A far cry from the dazzling show she saw earlier through the window. “The heating system, it’s off.”

“Not entirely. A majority of buildings still have them on but yes, external heating vents get temporarily shut off and rebooted. It’s common in the winter since they have to run constantly. You didn’t think it was weird that it was snowing so steadily?”

“Now that you mention it, I guess it is. Everything was already covered in snow so I didn’t notice.”

“Most snow melts on contact but there’s no getting past it during the cold season. Heater or not heater, you’re gonna see snow fall.”

Veronica breathed on her hands to warm them up. “So why come out when the heaters are off if you can see snow whenever?”

“Because I’m not here for the snow. There’s only one thing Atlas gets to really witness whenever the heaters come back on, because the reboot forces the heaters to come back on at full blast.”

“What would-” Before she could finish, Veronica witnessed it first hand; the sudden burst of heat that washed over her body as the orange glow of heaters returned to pale white city. The previous atmospheric silence had been broken. Pit pat pit pat pit pat pit. The familiar brought Veronica’s attention to the streets. Right before eyes like magic, suddenly and seamless, the winter wonderland turned into rain. Lots of rain.

Any and all snowflakes melted before pitter pattering on the pavement. Rain was nothing new to her and neither was Atlas at night for that matter, but a rainy night lights in the city of Atlas? That was a different story entirely. It was if she was in a new kingdom altogether, the way the lights shimmered on the water in the air and on the ground. Atlas somehow went from looking like a snow globe, to a chandelier.

“Woah~” Veronica was floored. She extended her hand out. The feeling of frigid rain contrasted against the warm so much it made her jolt. “Ah! Man that has a bite to it!” She laughed.Veronica stepped out from the awning.

Nick, shocked by her actions, quickly grabbed her hand. “Hey, your dress!” He shouted with agency. Veronica did not bother with his words. Instead she pulled Nick into the rain with her as she laughed.

“Hahaha! What’s a little water!? I love the rain!! Between the heaters and a pour like this, I’d say this is more refreshing than the showers back home.” Veronica’s grin widened. She took hold of Nick’s hands and began swaying. “Come on, dance with me!”

Nick let himself get strung along into Vee’s antics. He caught her guard by pulling the two of them into a ballroom stance and began to waltz.

Veronica’s ears wiggled. “Oooo look at you Mr. Casanova, taking the lead like that.”

“You’re pretty upbeat for a cat in the rain.” He teased.

“Jokes on you, panthers love water, and people from Menagerie love the ocean. I do have a surfboard after all.” She leaned back to que Nick to support her back. Veronica dramatically stuck her leg out to do an over the top dip before Nick brought her back up, pulling her close.

“Nice moves.”

“You’re not the only one who has to learn etiquette. Gotta stay on my toes for the public too. Pretty easy with a tail for balance.”

Nick chuckled. He waltzed his cheeky date back over to the awning near a heater as she continued to laugh. “I could’ve sworn minutes ago you didn’t want me getting sick?”

“Well someone bragged about being one with the cold.”

“I didn’t say all that now. I’m surprised someone complaining about the cold gets excited to dance in the rain.”

“Yeah well…” Veronica moves even closer to Nick, until there’s virtually no space between them. “I feel pretty warm right now.” She said, looking up into his eyes. Maybe it was the heater, the cold rain, or the warmth from his arms now wrapping around her, but it made Veronica warm to the point of feeling dazed. It couldn’t just be her. Not when Nick’s face was its own shade of red. The two let the sound of rain surround them yet again. The smile Veronica had slowly shifted into an expression of longing. She was so close to him right now. Closer than she’s ever felt. His warmth, his cologne, his lips…; Veronica’s body couldn’t help but lean forward. Right...until…

Beep! beep! The sound of a car horn made both jump out of their skin. They looked to the street to see their waitress waving joyfully.

“Thanks for the tip!” She said emotionally as she drove off.

The surprise brought Veronica back to her senses to see Nick’s face flushed and embarrassed. As well as conflicted. Like how he was back at Penny’s lab. Veronica felt the weight of her actions hit her like a tank and quickly took a step back.

“Sorry! Silly me, hehe. Here I was telling you that I wouldn’t be too forward or force anything, then I pull this! Talk about embarrassing huh?!” There wasn’t a bone in her body that didn’t want to find a hole to hide in. How could she get lost in emotion again!?

Nick frowned. “Ver-”

“It’s fine! Totally my bad.” She could feel her own heart start to race from her recklessness. “Tonight has been nice. We should probably start heading back before-”

Nick took Veronica’s arm and shut her up by kissing her cheek before wrapping his arms around her tightly. Her body went a little stiff before eventually hugging him back.

“No date is complete without a little intimacy, right.” Nick said, doing his best to kill the tension. “Sorry things got weird. I should’ve spoken up. It’s not like I would’ve been upset.” He admitted. “I just...you know. But I hope this is okay at least?”

Rejection is nothing new. Veronica was ready for the sting. However, Nick’s words didn’t sting at all. In fact, Veronica could only find herself hiding her face in his shirt, enjoying this comfort. Her heart stopped racing and she felt calmer than she had all night. This wasn’t rejection. Not by a long shot. A to be continued perhaps?

“This is perfect.” She said, holding her crush closer. “Stay just like this for your date. At least for a few more moments.”

Nick smiled. “As you wish.”

Veronica may not have Nick’s attention like how Valerie does, but at this moment, Veronica had Nick focused on her and her alone. He was hers right now. Veronica couldn’t ask for more. This definitely was an unconventional date, clumsy and hardly what anyone would call romantic. Veronica would cherish it all the same.

xxxx

While the sweet sound of rain soothed one duo, another couldn’t hear it all, it being completely drowned out by applause with bubbling excitement. Tonight may be one of the coldest nights for Atlas, but for a warehouse in Mantle filled with young adults, passion burned in the form of a young woman in black about to conquer the stage with her guitar and vocals. Summer was ready to vent. While Eliza carefully observed from afar.

If she wasn’t here then she might not have believed it. With those clothes and confidence, Eliza was sure she was watching a stranger.“Summer Schnee, you and your brother are one surprise after another.”

The singer grabbed a microphone and looked out to the many eyes ready to cut loose. “ALRIGHT EVERYBODY LET’S MAKE SOME NOISE!”

Summer screamed, receiving nothing less than twice the excitement back. No time was wasted in playing how she played less. Tonight was her night. Problems could wait until tomorrow.

#rwby #rwby twin snowflakes #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #blake belladonna #winter schnee #eliza marigold #veronica belladonna

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sideblogformindtrash · 4 years ago

Text

CW: Mouth whump; self-harm(kinda); self-hatred; restraints; institutional abuse/gaslight(cult type dynamic); religious themes; minor whumpee; religious abuse

Also: for people who asked bout the taglist; usually when writing about Orfeu’s backstory it will feature some sort of religious undertone. If someone is uncomfortable with that particular setting and would rather just be tagged in chapters with Haru please let me know.

They were back.

He had wounds on his wrists and ankles from pulling the rope restraints the night before. Some droplets of wax had left burn marks on his skin.

…He thought he did well. He did the best he could, even if he cried and screamed. But he didn’t pass out. He prayed in his mind all along… He didn’t doubt, never questioned his faith, not for a second. Not even when teeth were ripped from the sensible flesh, filling his mouth with the taste of blood.

And all around him, humming prayers filled the cave-like sanctuary, a choir so powerful it almost drenched his screams of agony.

…They cleaned him with holy water and carried him to bed… Too exhausted to even process what was really going on. Someone stayed there and held his hand, telling him that everything would be okay now. That he was good. He had faced his probation and succeeded… And that was all he ever wanted.

It was relief that carried him into sleep that night. His dreams were of being… Worthy of love, truly worthy for once.

…But then why were they back?

As if mocking him, his reflection smiled, the points of sharp, sharp teeth had already started appearing from his gums.

Freak. Monster. Demon.

He screamed, punching the mirror into a spider-web crack. Blood dripped from his fingers, filling them in crimson.

…He was a monster. How long would he have to atone for his sins? Crimson sins on the white snow, sins that he didn’t even knew he had committed. How long until god forgave him?

And those green eyes, so full of hate, so full of fear, now stared him from each fracture of the mirror, and looking at them is just too much.

He runs outside his tiny room, through the patio covered in dew, footsteps echoing in the emptiness. The sun hasn’t even risen yet, and the darkness reigns supreme. Less than one night, and they are back.

He isn’t really looking where he is going. He clashes against the temple door, opening with an impact that he barely registers. He crashes at the cold stone floor, candlelight casting gloomy shadows.

“WHY?”

He drops like a doll, hitting the floor with his fists, pulling his own hair, screaming at the altar, at the skies, at anyone that can hear, his throat alteady so hurt from the night before... and his eyes are covered in tears. And yet, only the darkness speaks.

Why? Why? Why? Why? – It has no answers, just an endless echo into the void.

…From one of the aisles, a figure approaches him.

“Son? what’s wron-“

“You lied’ He gets up on a whim screaming at Father Benedict “You are liar! Liar!”

The man has no time to register a response, before the boy launches towards him in blind fury, dropping candle holders, statues and anything else on its way. He attacks with tiny nails and childlike rage.

…He is soon restrained by two other Acolytes, who can barely hold him in this state of blind despair. A third one comes to help, and despite immobilized, he still fight, incoherent words that fall on deaf ears.

Until they start to drag him to the stairway to underground. To the cells and the dark. His eyes widen with terror, his body falls limp, his mouth forms a plea…

“Stop” Father Benedict gestures for the Acolytes, having recomposed himself.

They look at each other, frowning, still holding the boy harshly despite the lack of resistance in this state.

“Father, he is dangerous. He attacked you-“

“Yes. But put him on the ground now” The acolytes don’t react, so the old priest voices again “…He who is without sin, cast the first stone”

After a moment of hesitation, they do as they were told, dropping him like a sack.

“…Leave.”

“What, we can’t leave you alone with the demon, Father, he wil-“

“Leave.”

His tone does not allow for any defiance. They leave them both alone, and for a while, just the sounds of the fire can be heard. The boy stay on his knees, staring at the stone floor with a blank, lost mind.

Father Benedict approaches him and kneels, gently lifting the tear streamed face. The boy mouths “Sorry” over and over again.

“Son, tell me what is troubling you.”

“F-Father… I… “ he sniffs “They are back… They are back and… And they are still sharp. They… They were right… I’m… I’m truly evil.”

The priest pulls his chin down, and although he has a brief moment of hesitation…

“Son… They aren’t as sharp as they were before.”

Slowly, the boy lifts his eyes – green, glassy eyes, filled with tears – to face Father Benedict, who has only pity for the creature. Oh, the lost lamb.

A demon. A freak.

“T-they a-aren’t?”

“Being good for God… Is a hard process, child. It’s the journey of a lifetime. Once they are fully back… We can take them out again. And just like this time, they will be a little bit less sharp. Your burden is grand, but God will give you the strength.”

He looks at the altar. Broken statues and fallen candles on the stones, eyes judging him from above.

“F-forgive me Father…” he lets his head hung low “For… For the way I behaved today.”

“I forgive you, Son. As for God… You can confess by the evening and do penitence, child. For now, you should go back to sleep.”

“Y-yes Father. Thank you.”

He got on his feet, cleaning the tears on his sleeves. He smiled at Father Benedict. Teeth as sharp as they had always been.

tagging: @cupcakes-and-pain, @whumpzone, @whump-me-all-night-long

#oc whump #whump writing #and thats why he is also so fucked up :)#its just the teeth btw you can still probably beat the shit out of him and he wouldnt heal #orfeu and haru

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all-my-friends-were-glorious · 3 years ago

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RULES

These will make things so much easier for everyone involved. Please read these, and understand that any steps outside of the boundaries made in these rules are grounds for being blocked. With no warning, no explanation, and no remorse.

1. There will be no shipping if there is no build-up to it. There will be a list of more-likely-to-ship-with characters on each character’s bio, along with sexualities and the like. OCs and crossover characters are welcome to try and ship but do not just jump in expecting a ship. I will warn of ships I have with certain characters but I will never, ever force a ship.

2. HEAVY warnings for: Gore, blood, canon-typical violence, racism, canon-typical racism, antisemitism, canon-typical antisemitism, incest, vampirism, werewolves, demons, religious themes, traumatized characters, PTSD, regressive coping mechanisms, monsters, mental/physical/sexual abuse, unhealthy relationships, drug abuse, drug use, alcohol use, alcohol abuse, witchcraft, cannibalism, supernatural horror, eating disorders, age gap ships, chronic illnesses, incest ships, potentially pedophilic ships, sexual assault, necrophilia, taxidermy of humans/animals, body horror, minor/minor ships, mpreg, male pregnancy, transmasc pregnancy

Know that I will not limit myself or my muses in any way if not asked by a specific partner. I will not write rape on this blog, though it can/will be talked about if it happens. Everything is tagged with cw -tag-. If you need something tagged I will tag it happily, just let me know.

ANY HATE that I get is going to be deleted. I am not going to tolerate it on this blog. If you dislike what I write, simply go elsewhere. I will block people that overstep my boundaries, I’d like for you to do the same.

My NS/FW tag is (Bedroom Eyes)

IF YOU STILL WANT TO FOLLOW BUT DO NOT WANT TO SEE THESE:

For the incest ships, blacklist: cw incest, cw twincest, cw sibling incest, cw father/son incest, cw father son incest, cw cousin incest

For the minor/minor or adult/minor ships, blacklist: cw underage , cw pedophilia, cw pedophilia mention

For the adult/minor ships, blacklist: cw parent child incest, cw father son incest, cw father daughter incest, cw twincest, cw incest, cw cousincest, cw cousin incest, cw sibling incest, cw underage

For the potentially pedophilic (9 year age gap) ship/the ship that engages in necrophilia, blacklist: cw necrophilia, Your Idle Screams Bring You Nothing But Doubt (Firkle and Michael - SouthxParkxAfterxDark), Maybe This Is Danger And He Just Don’t Know (Michael x Firkle - SouthxParkxAfterxDark)

PLEASE NOTE: Stuart in particular is a groomer. He has actively had sex with minors as an adult. Please be aware of this when you interact with him! His age gap with Carol alone is 15 years, and she had Kevin when she was 16. He has actively abused Karen, as well as @southxparkxafterxdark‘s Kyle, and likely others. Do not send hate over this as it will be ignored. If you do not want to see it, block this tag: I've Been Laying Down In The Devil's Lair Sailing Into The Sun I'll Be Baptized There (Stuart McCormick)

For anything else: Please tell me and I will tag whatever you need me to! Just a reminder that I’m not a monster, and I will happily tag whatever is needed. Also you are always free to ask about what things I tag! I will happily get you a list!

3. If you have an OC, I need to know about them. I would prefer an image and written bio, but at least tell me about them and their relation to my character(s). Unless you have a good backstory and discuss with me about it, no family of them that aren’t canon, please.

4. ABSOLUTELY NO EYE TRAUMA OR DEFECATION. At. All.

5. Any sensual stuff over PG-13 rating will be moved to Discord, put under a read more, or faded to black. I only talk/plot over DM. If you cannot do Discord we will figure something else out. I also have Telegram.

6. If you have read these rules please say ‘This is a hymn for the hymnless.’

7. Please read the bios for the characters you wish to interact with, as they are all canon divergent. I now have OCs on this blog, as well, and it is important for that to be said.

8. PLEASE no minors. If I follow you and you are a minor, please let me know. I do not have anything against you, but I am not comfortable rping with underage kids as I am 30.

9. I operate under “reblog karma” rules. If I reblog a meme from you, I will also send at least one ask from said meme to you. I ask that you do the same for me. If you reblog from me constant and never interact, it is an instant block.

10. Sometimes I make incorrect quotes when I’m not feeling good, as it gives me something to do and amuses my friends and I. ANYONE can reblog or like them.

#RULES #Mr Meek Speaks (OOC)

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bumblebee-moreno · 4 years ago

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LGBT EDUCATION EVENT

I posted a bit ago to see who might be interested in an event for anyone to ask me any question they want about my LGBT identities, or the LGBT community in general, and there seemed to be quite a bit of interest, so here we are!

Event goes from midnight to midnight March 30 (starts in 5 minutes, lasts for the full 24 hours).

For those of you who don’t know me (you can skip this part if you already know who I am):

My name is Bumblebee, but you can call me Bee. I am white and use he/they pronouns. I am FTM nonbinary, queer, demisexual, and polyamorous. I work part-time at a non-profit targeted towards trans youth. At the non-profit, I moderate our 24/7 chat (I’m not the only moderator, don’t worry, I do sleep), am a facilitator for our middle school support group (When one of our high school facilitators cannot make it, I also step into that group occasionally). I also help create and present workshops (We are currently in the process of creating a presentation for Microsoft). My other job is as a receptionist for a Veterinary Clinic. (For safety reasons, I will not be sharing which nonprofit I work at, or which veterinary clinic I work at. If, for some reason you find out where I work, please keep this information to yourself). I was diagnosed with ADHD in February, and was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder two years ago. I have lived in the USA my whole life, and was raised in a non-religious household. My extended family is mostly Christian, with a few relatives who are Norse Pagan (we are originally from Norway). I am agnostic.

The purpose of this event:

Education. That’s literally it. I’ve noticed a lot of misconceptions about the LGBT community, and want to combat that with a good ol’ fashioned Q&A.

Here are a few rules before we start:

(I do have a TL/DR at the bottom, but if you have the time, I encourage you to read the full thing)

- This is a safe space.

This means a few things: You can ask any question you like and I will not be offended. Nothing is to be taken personally, it will always be assumed that you are trying to learn, unless you’ve clearly proven otherwise. If you’re hurt by something someone (including myself) has said, you’re free and encouraged to say something about it. All identities are welcome. Everything will be tagged with appropriate content warnings (If I don't tag something you need tagged, let me know and I will happily tag it!)

- Who can participate:

Anyone wanting to learn about anything LGBT, including but not limited to:

Cisgender/heterosexual people who want to become better allies, Writers who want to learn how to be more inclusive, People questioning their gender/sexuality, literally anyone prepared to be respectful to anyone else participating

(I do want to note: this event is open to NSFW conversations. If you are uncomfortable with this, please filter the tag “adult conversations”.)

- Any question is okay to ask.

This is a space for everyone to learn, regardless of their prior knowledge. I will never get offended by a question. I will not be offended by the phrasing of a question. If I am not comfortable answering something, I will explain why, but I will not be annoyed. Part of learning is making mistakes, and I want to be courteous to that.

I am super open, so I will answer almost every question, regardless of how personal it is, with a few exceptions (see the “my boundaries” point.

Yes, this means you can ask questions that you’ve been previously told never to ask. I want to clarify though: I will make it clear when a question is inappropriate to ask in normal circumstances. Since I am telling you beforehand that it’s okay to ask personal or private questions, it is acceptable to do so in this context. However, I will always add a note explaining why you shouldn’t ask people this in other circumstances so that it’s still clear which questions I am making exceptions for.

- My boundaries

I’m not going to share identifying information. That includes: My legal name, where I live, where I work, photos of myself, etc.

I’m not going to share my deadname either, though I am willing to have conversations about deadnames themselves.

I’m not going to share what my plans for bottom surgery are. I am fine to talk about bottom surgery itself, I am fine to share where I’m at right now, and have next to no boundaries about top surgery. But I’m not going to share what my plans for whether or not I’m getting bottom surgery are.

I’ve worked as a receptionist and trans advocate for long enough that I take nothing personally. Because of this, I ask that if you need to get upset or aggressive about something related to this event, please come to me directly instead of attacking a participant. I’d rather you send me hate than sending it to someone who is trying to use this safe space as a learning opportunity. This includes if you’re frustrated with a participant. I’m happy to facilitate a healthy conversation about a disagreement, but I will not tolerate anyone attacking others.

- Hate will be blocked.

When you’re talking directly to me, I’m going to assume you’re well-intentioned. HOWEVER. If you’re directly attacking others who are involved in the conversation, you will be blocked. If you have a problem, please come to me and I will work to resolve it. Sending hate to people other than myself is in violation of the safe space.

- My intention is never to speak over anyone

I don’t know everything about every identity. As a white person, I experience white privilege. As someone who passes as male about 80% of the time, I experience male privilege. I am able-bodied. I try my very best to educate myself, but I am still learning (and always will be).

If I speak on an identity that is not my own, I will always add a note to clarify this. I will only be speaking from the stories shared with me by people who have that identity, and from the additional research I have done.

MY WORDS ARE NEVER THE ONLY TRUTH. I cannot say this enough. Don’t take my words over those of someone who uses a specific label. Even if I also use that label. Everyone experiences the world differently. My words are a STARTING POINT. Please be aware that other opinions and experiences exist. I will try my best to have resources paired with every conversation so you can further your learning, but please be aware that I cannot teach you everything.

If I don’t know the answer, I will do research as well as provide you with sources.

- No question will go unanswered

Yes, this includes questions that come across as “disrespectful”. I have said this already, but I will always assume good intentions unless it’s proven that you’re coming from a place of malice. If a question is phrased in a way that comes across as harmful in any way, I will still answer it AND explain why you should ask it differently in the future or not ask it at all going forward.

If I don’t respond within 2 hours, please message me again: I either didn’t receive it or I am still writing my response. I don’t want to miss anyone just because you think I’m ignoring you, I promise I’m not.

The ONLY time I won’t answer a question is if you’ve made it clear that you’re only here to attack the people using this safe space (I will have already asked you to leave).

- If something upsets you, don’t ignore it.

If you’re hurt by something I, or someone else said, please let me know. My intentions are never to hurt or upset anyone.

You can disagree with people, including me, as long as you’re polite about it.

If you need me to talk to someone for you, I’m happy to do so. If you want a private conversation with me, my DMs are open. If you want to stay anonymous but don’t want your questions posted, use this 🌙 emoji (or just say so), and I’ll make a post trying my best to answer your question without sharing the contents of the ask itself.

I don’t expect you to educate me as to why you’re upset by something: that’s not your responsibility, I can educate myself. I do appreciate anyone willing to talk about differing views or why something upset them, but that is not the purpose of the event and you are under no obligation to educate anyone else. I will do my research the moment someone says something bothered them.

- Please don’t weaponise my words.

Please don’t use anything said here as a way to attack people. This event is to educate people. I hope there’s nothing said here that can be manipulated to hurt people, but I didn’t want to leave this unsaid; the point of this isn’t to attack people who are uneducated, it’s to help educate them.

- Most importantly: Please come into this with a desire to learn

This event won’t be helpful if you’re determined to not learn anything. The purpose of this is to ask questions and learn something. I can’t decide for you that you want to learn. I can’t force you to learn. You have to be willing, or this may seem very pointless to you. I’m not trying to change opinions or beliefs, I’m just trying to spread a little education. If you’re unable to take my words and really think about them, this may not be the space for you, but that’s up to you to decide.

Any topic is okay!

This includes (but isn’t limited to):

- Writing LGBT characters (such as how to incorporate same-sex representation without fetishizing gay people, writing for gender-neutral or non-female readers, making content trans-friendly, etc.)

- What to do when someone you care about comes out

- Coming out

- Transition-related questions (HRT, surgery, binding/tucking, deadnames, etc.)

- Defining terms or labels you’re unfamiliar with

- Working out your feelings about something (such as something you saw in media and need to talk to someone about)

- Various laws (questions about laws may take up to 3 hours to answer, as I would have to research your particular area, depending on the question)

- Literally any other question you can think of that has to do with the LGBT community in any way, these are just some ideas off the top of my head to get y’all started.

TL;DR: This space is open to anyone, any topic, any question just please be open-minded and respectful!

(Just like my first post, I’m including tags for the Pedro fandom because I’ve seen a lot of issues within that community, but this is open to anyone that wants to participate, regardless of what interests you have.)

@phoenixhalliwell

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

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Next Cinderella AU part ahoy!

Conical hats were actually considered very fashionable during the Middle Ages and the early Renaissance. What’s fascinating, however, is how they evolved into two very distinct and oddly opposing styles of hat: the stereotypical “Pilgrim” hat and the pointed hat that witches are generally depicted wearing! Around the turn of the 17th century, the most stylish variation of black conical hat was called the capotain, which is a cone, but with a rounded top -- the hat McGonagall wears in that top sketch is one of these types of hats (her dress is based on this design, which also features a shorter version of the capotain). The hats were originally fashionable among both men and women, but over time, one group of women that was most associated with wearing them were Quakers, a branch of Christianity that broke away from the Church of England and advocated quite liberated views for the era, such as the abolition of slavery, women’s rights, and a refusal to involve themselves in war. They also passionately believed that one didn’t have to attend church in order to be close to God and that one could practice one’s faith out in the world by living and dressing modestly and being active in charity work. (To learn more about the history of how the conical hat evolved into our modern image of “the witch hat,” check out this awesome fashion history video on the subject.) As one can expect, Quakers and Quaker women in particular were not well-taken-to by a lot of European society, especially by the religious movement on the opposite site of the political scale in Britain, the uber-conservative, Bible-purist Puritans. Many of these same Puritan-types got very involved in hunting witches both in Europe and in the Americas (the Salem Witch Trials are a perfect example). But yes...if one looks up pictures of historical clothing for Puritan men and/or “the Pilgrims” (A.K.A. the group of Americans that colonized Plymouth, who were Puritans), they very often wore a variation of the capotain! Although it’s been theorized by historians that the capotains worn by Quaker women ended up being associated with sin and therefore witchcraft, similar hats were also worn by the men who persecuted them. The hats were worn by both sides -- victim and accuser -- and yet most of us today look at the capotain and immediately think “witch” exclusively. Talk about irony.

Greensleeves is often ascribed as being commissioned by King Henry VIII for his second wife, Anne Boleyn (even Six the Musical references this)...but it actually was written in the later half of the 16th century, when Anne’s daughter Elizabeth I was Queen. So yeah, that’s sadly just an old wives tale. But it is a lovely song! The melody for Greensleeves has been remarkably long-lasting, even being rewritten as multiple Christmas songs over the centuries, including the still popular What Child is This?, which was written in 1865.

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you all enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn very quickly threw on her mother’s green-sleeved yellow dress and as many warm wool petticoats as she could before fetching her white horse from the palace stable. She rode up through the gate in exactly twenty-five minutes, to find Orion on his black mare waiting for her. Carewyn was ready to ask Orion if everything was all right, but almost as soon as they’d left the perimeter of the gate, Orion urged his horse into a fast gallop.

“Come, my lady,” he cried over his shoulder, “let us chase that horizon!”

Carewyn had to send her horse charging forward in its own gallop to catch up with him. They rode right through the market and then out of the capitol altogether -- they avoided the road that led toward the Cromwell estate, dashing eastward. They weaved in and out of the rolling snow-capped hills, riding beside and around each other. The freedom of riding alone was enough to bring some life back into Orion’s cheeks, and Carewyn despite herself soon found herself smiling.

When they came to a stop at the top of a hill close to the northern border, Orion looked out over the edge with a handsome, endless gleam in his eye, like that of a sailor looking out to sea. Carewyn once again prepared to ask Orion if he was all right...but once again, Orion dodged the question.

“Do you see that eagle, overhead?” asked Orion.

Carewyn looked up. She did -- it was a truly handsome golden eagle, gliding in a circle through the air over their heads.

“I’ve seen eagles just like that nearly every day, up and down the border,” said Orion. “Shall we see if we can ride fast enough to overtake it in flight? Could we take flight as birds do, without ever spreading wings?”

“Orion...”

Carewyn brought a hand gently down on his arm.

“I know there’s something wrong,” she whispered.

Orion looked at her, his expression losing most of its levity and becoming much blanker and more inscrutable again.

“I understand if you can’t tell me,” she insisted softly. Her blue eyes rested on her own hand on his arm rather than his face -- with the intense concern she felt, she didn’t dare expose them further by looking straight into his eyes. “And I truly don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Your secrets are your own, and I know you have a reason for them.”

Just as I have mine.

“I only...I can tell you’re running from something...maybe even the thing you’ve being running from, every time you’ve come to see me, all these weeks...and I don’t know what to do, to protect you from what you’re so afraid of. Please...tell me what I can do.”

Orion’s black eyes trailed over Carewyn’s face, rippling with many tiny flickers of emotion that were hard to properly identify -- pain? Affection? Anxiety? Evasiveness? Shame? Longing? Who knew?

At last the Prince of Florence brought a hand out to gingerly rest on top of Carewyn’s on his arm.

“Chase that eagle with me,” he said softly.

Carewyn looked up at Orion and then at the eagle overhead as it soared off toward the nearby woods. Then she gave him a small, sad smile and nodded.

“...All right.”

Dislodging herself from Orion, Carewyn steadied her grip on her horse’s reins and flicked them to make it gallop toward the woods.

“Well, come on, then!” she called over her shoulder with the strongest smile she could. “T’would be a shame if I out-rode you in a challenge you set yourself!”

Orion’s face broke out into a brighter, fond smile and he pursued her.

The two rode their horses down the hill and into the trees. Racing side by side, overtaking each other in their strides and then catching up again -- all while Orion smiled so fully and handsomely, and looked at her with such blazing midnight-black eyes -- was a joy that Carewyn had trouble putting into proper words. His expression was full of such silent, and yet unbridled joy -- free, in every sense of the word.

“You should be allowed to feel like that more often,” Orion’s words returned to her. “Free.”

You should be allowed to feel like that too, Orion, thought Carewyn. You deserve to feel this free all the time.

The two rode with speed until they’d finally lost sight of the beautiful golden eagle. Slowing their horses into a calmer trot, they then journeyed through the trees, enjoying the peaceful serenity of the chirping birds and the pools of sunlight scattered across the muddy, snow-dusted ground.

“I’ve never been out this far before,” Carewyn confessed, her almond-shaped blue eyes trailing over the interlaced branches overhead.

Orion looked at her out the side of his eye. “...This close to the border, you mean?”

“Yes.”

Carewyn caught a strange scent in the distance -- something vaguely like the fires she’d tend to back at the castle and the Cromwell estate.

“...Something’s burning...”

Orion nodded solemnly. “Bonfires. The Royaumanian and Florentine camps aren’t far from here.”

Carewyn looked at Orion, slightly startled. His gaze had wandered northward, but it was clear his mind was far from the trees his eyes were idly resting on.

“We’re near the war front?” asked Carewyn softly.

“Yes...” Orion glanced her out the side of his eye. “...Are you frightened?”

“No,” said Carewyn.

She looked through the trees in the direction Orion had been facing.

Jacob could be over there right now, she thought to herself. The idea of seeing her brother for the first time in nine years -- of hugging him again and seeing his relieved smile -- it made her feel like her heart was being squeezed.

Orion’s black eyes scanned her longing, but fearless face, before shifting back in the direction of the trees that obscured the path toward the war front.

“The scales are going to shift again, soon,” he whispered. He could feel Carewyn’s eyes on him again. “The two sides have constantly fought for dominance...lashing out ruthlessly and then retaliating, back and forth, until they’re forced to come to a stalemate, just to catch their breath. Then one lashes out again, and the precarious balance is thrown to the winds once more...”

Carewyn’s blue eyes rippled with concern. “Orion...is something bad about to happen, out there?”

Orion closed his eyes. His father claimed he needed him, in order to lead the Florentine army in the two-pronged attack on Royaume...but it wasn’t unlikely that the King might make do and find someone else to fill that role...

“Hopefully not,” he said softly.

Carewyn reached out a hand and took hold of Orion’s wrist. Orion looked down at her hand and then up at her face -- she had trouble looking at him, but he could tell her eyes were rippling with concern. His heart felt like it was suddenly being harshly compressed, just to fit inside of his chest.

You wish to protect me from what I fear...but what I fear, I should wish to protect you from.

The King’s words returned to his mind.

“When you make mistakes, the people you cherish, that you want most desperately to protect, pay the price!”

But how could he hope to protect Carewyn from the War and the cost it would demand? How could he hope to stop it, when his own father unknowingly would be sabotaging his efforts for peace? How could he live with himself, if he had to chain himself to the War the way the King had -- to fight against the Royaumanians he’d met and broken bread with as equals?

Orion took several deep breaths before speaking again.

“...My father wishes me to join him, at the front,” he admitted lowly.

Carewyn looked up, startled. “...Your father’s in the army?”

“Yes,” said Orion. “He’s...a high-ranking officer. He expects that I will follow his example and lead our ranks into battle.”

Carewyn considered Orion for a moment. “...You don’t want to.”

Orion’s eyes darkened significantly. “...I don’t want to.”

When Carewyn didn’t respond, he pressed on.

“My father believes that the War can only be ended through force -- that justice can be only brought about by utterly destroying our enemy. But...I cannot believe that. I grew up on the border between Florence and Royaume. The town I’m from is so close that one could hop easily from one to the other. It caused some tensions, yes...but it also made it so that at first meeting, or even third or fourth, you never knew what side of the divide a person was on. And so I found myself constantly thinking...what is it that truly separates us? Is it morality? Is it values? Humanity? And yet I don’t think either side can boast having any of those things exclusively. It instead all comes back to a mistake made fifty years ago -- a land dispute that ended more violently than it should have. So many people have died, all because of that...and because neither King has decided to be the better man and choose forgiveness over vengeance.”

Orion bowed his head, his eyes closing solemnly.

“...My father asked me to help him lead the army, in an upcoming attack on the enemy forces -- one that he believes could end the War once and for all. But...”

He exhaled quietly through his nose.

“...I couldn’t accept that burden...so I left.”

Carewyn didn’t respond. Orion scanned her face, trying to read her reaction, but it was proving difficult when she wouldn’t look at him.

Does she...disapprove? he couldn’t help but think. She did think he was Royaumanian -- she didn’t understand that he wanted to protect her brother, not prevent him from returning home...but how could he explain that to her, without...?

“I know that the War could end, if my father’s strategy succeeds,” Orion explained, trying to keep his voice level despite the anxiety he felt, “but this is only one strategy of hundreds, all of which have failed. And even if our side was victorious...however many lives I could potentially save by fighting, I would be snuffing out far more. I realize that this is my responsibility alone, and sometimes one must be willing to do what others will not, to reach their goal...but flowers bloom under sunlight and water, not blood. If we could avoid burning a forest to the ground, wouldn’t it then be easier to bring it back to life?”

“Yes...but if someone wants to set a forest ablaze, you have to act if you want to stop them.”

Carewyn’s response was very soft and solemn, but there was no anger or disapproval -- instead, to Orion’s immense relief, it sounded almost encouraging.

“If you believe that Royaume could make peace with Florence, then you need to speak out for it,” she said firmly. “If you see it and believe in it, that’s great...but you need to make others see and believe in it too, if it’s going to really come about. Talk to your father, make him see things as you do -- and if he isn’t able to, then...well, I’ll talk to Andre, and you and he can discuss it together.”

Her lips spread into a gentle smile and she gave his wrist a light squeeze.

“My own family may have profited because of the War, but the people of Royaume, the common man, would celebrate, if peace could come about without further loss. If Florence would also, then that’s a step in the right direction. There’s more than one way to fight for something...all it requires is enough courage to place one’s goal over whatever risks stand in their way.”

Orion stared at Carewyn for a long moment. As he did, the black of his eyes seemed to melt, gaining a warmer, softer light that resembled candlelight rippling in endless, dark water.

“...Carewyn...”

Before he could say anything more, however, there was a loud explosion in the distance. Carewyn’s horse reared back in terror, which in turn spooked Orion’s, and both Carewyn and Orion had to quickly calm their steeds.

“Whoa, whoa,” Carewyn whispered in her horse’s ear, “easy, boy...it’s all right...”

Orion stroked his horse’s mane with a slightly trembling hand, breathing in and out as he tried to steady his heart rate. He then looked at Carewyn with a more serious eye.

“...Perhaps we should make our way back to the valley. It’s not safe here.”

Carewyn looked northward through the trees again. “Do you think your father’s started the attack?”

“No. Coordinated attacks require both strategy and assignments, as well as the element of surprise. I’d say this is a skirmish between younger, less experienced soldiers -- and if so, it’s likely to run farther afield and cause damage outside the designated battlefield.”

Orion could see Carewyn still hesitating. Although there was no fear in her face, she seemed reluctant to leave -- likely thinking of her brother, more than the risk to her own safety...

After a brief flicker of uncertainty, Orion reached out a hand and took hold of Carewyn’s arm not unlike how she’d taken his earlier.

“From everything I’ve heard from you about your brother, I truly cannot see him not doing everything he possibly can, to look out for your well-being...including looking after himself.”

A second smaller explosion in the distance made Orion stiffen slightly, his fingers tightening that bit around Carewyn’s arm.

“...We should move out of harm’s way,” he said as levelly as he could.

Seeing the paleness of Orion’s face, Carewyn relented at once.

“Yes.”

Bringing a hand up onto Orion’s horse’s reins, she directed both of them around so they could start riding back out the way they came.

As they came around a cluster of trees, however, their attention was caught by the sound of the cry of an eagle and many snapping branches. Carewyn’s horse reared back again, just barely dodging a large clump of golden-brown feathers that collided sharply with the ground.

Carewyn once again rushed to soothe her horse. Orion quickly climbed off his horse and bent down to get a better look at what had fallen.

It was a golden eagle, just as brilliant as the one they’d chased into the wood -- perhaps even the same one. It was conscious, but clearly in pain when it tried to return to the air -- its left wing crumpled up against its side and covered in blood and what looked like grayish ash.

Orion’s black eyes narrowed.

“Gunpowder,” he said. “The poor creature’s wing must have been struck by a stray bullet.”

Once she’d successfully soothed her white horse, Carewyn likewise jumped off its back. She dashed over to Orion, hitching up the skirt of her mother’s gown as she went.

“Can you hold him?” she asked.

The eagle gave an angry-sounding cry, baring its sharp talons at both of them, and it tried to hobble away back into the air with its one good wing.

“I don’t think he wants our help,” said Orion.

Undaunted, Carewyn ripped off some fabric from her outer-most petticoat. “Well, he needs it, whether he wants it or not. Can you hold him, please?”

Orion looked at the eagle. Rather than try to grab it, he met the eagle’s eyes and tried not to blink. The eagle looked back at him with a piercing gaze. When Orion extended a hand, the eagle lashed out its talons again -- Orion withdrew, but didn’t flinch.

“Steady,” he said gently.

He waited a moment, keeping eye contact with the bird, and then tried again. This time he was able to move close enough to touch before the eagle lashed out with its claws again.

“Peace,” said Orion patiently. “We mean you no harm, feathered friend.”

Another loud explosion in the distance made both the eagle and Orion flinch.

“That one sounded closer,” said Carewyn, her voice faintly tense but as gentle as she could. “We need to be quick.”

The flames of his childhood home were returning to Orion’s mind despite his best efforts, and he shut them out as best he could, closing his eyes and breathing in and out several times. Once he’d reestablished his focus, Orion opened his eyes again.

The eagle looked from Orion to Carewyn almost critically. Finally, after Orion reached in for a third time, it let the Prince run a gentle hand over its back. Once the bird was calm, Orion then carefully extended its wing so that Carewyn could reach it.

“This will likely hurt him a little,” Carewyn told Orion. “Please hold him still, so he won’t fly away.”

Orion brought a hand around the eagle, which fidgeted and cried out indignantly, but did not claw or snap at them. With Orion holding out its wing, Carewyn was able to reach into its blood-soaked feathers and dislodge the bullet. The eagle gave an angry, pained cry, and Carewyn very quickly set about wrapping up the wound with the white fabric she’d ripped out of her petticoat.

“There,” breathed Carewyn, her red lips spreading into a smile. “That should help...”

The bird looked down at its wing, gingerly folding up against its side as it surveyed her with a very beady eye. With a soft click of her tongue against her teeth, she slowly extended an arm out, holding it very still like a branch.

“Climb on,” she cooed. “That’s it...”

The eagle peered Carewyn over, but after a long moment, it gradually scooted over and leapt up onto her arm. Its talons dug into the sleeve of her dress with strength, and it was heavier than Carewyn expected, but she with some difficulty just barely managed to hoist it up.

“Your talent with animals shines through again,” said Orion with a wry smile, clasping his hands lightly in front of him.

“You weren’t half bad yourself,” Carewyn said amusedly. She brought a hand gently along the eagle’s comb. “You’re a very handsome bird, aren’t you? You poor thing...”

“You there!”

Both Orion and Carewyn looked up in great surprise.

Striding through the woods toward them was a very tall middle-aged woman. She wore a black capotain hat and an old-fashioned black dress with a white ruff around the collar, and her graying brown hair was tied up in an austere looking bun under her hat. Despite her apparent age, her step was strong and her posture as straight as a general’s.

“What are you doing here?” said the woman very sternly.

Carewyn stood a bit uneasily, thanks to the weight of the eagle on her arm, but she nonetheless straightened up, resting a hand on the eagle’s back almost protectively.

“We’re merely out riding, madam,” she said, not impolitely, but still confidently.

The woman peered down at both Orion and Carewyn with an eye almost as critical as the eagle’s had been as she crossed her arms. Her height made it so she towered over both of them with relative ease.

“Well, through your riding, you have trespassed on my land,” she said stiffly. “And it seems you’ve claimed something of mine.”

Her eyes flickered over to the eagle on Carewyn’s arm, taking in the makeshift bandage on its wing. The golden eagle gave a loud shriek -- the woman extended her arm, and it leapt the distance, landing on her arm instead. The older woman did not struggle to hold it up the way Carewyn had.

Carewyn blinked in surprise. “Then...he’s yours?”

“Do you have others, like him?” Orion asked curiously.

The woman peered down at the bird on her arm with a look that was rather like a scolding, but still affectionate mother’s. “No -- he’s one of a kind. All the more reason why I’m pleased to see him safe, after coming so close to the enemy camp.”

The eagle bowed its head, its gaze flickering back over toward Carewyn and Orion. When another cluster of explosions rang out through the air, however, both the bird and Orion straightened up abruptly.

The woman looked northward, and then beckoned Carewyn and Orion after her with her hand.

“Come with me -- with the armies positioned just north of us and a band of Florentine bandits just south, the safest place at present to wait out this skirmish is my home.”

The woman introduced herself as the Baroness Minerva McGonagall. Carewyn felt like the surname was familiar somehow, but she couldn’t quite place it in her memory. Regardless, McGonagall led Carewyn and Orion out through the trees. Only once they crossed the perimeter of the trees and McGonagall gestured toward the valley below did Carewyn and Orion see her country estate. It was odd that they didn’t spot it sooner, for although the valley seemed to cradle the small chateau, it was a rather beautiful and open estate framed by a wrought iron gate. The property itself was made of aged brick and stone with stained glass windows and overgrown with ice-trimmed ivy.

After holding out her arm so that the eagle perched there could jump down on the railing beside the stone stairs that led up to the front door, the Baroness invited Orion and Carewyn inside. As stern as she’d first appeared, she actually was a very kind host -- after Orion and Carewyn’s horses were settled in her stable, she escorted the two into the dining hall, where she served them some rose water and ginger biscuits. Once inside the house, none of them could hear the explosions from the battlefield -- it was as though the walls cancelled out all sounds from outside even though they must’ve been so close.

Seeing that the Baroness had no servants to help her, Carewyn insisted on taking the dishes to the kitchen and washing them, so as to thank the older woman for her hospitality. Despite being reluctant to accept the help at first, McGonagall eventually accepted it, her lips upturned in a rather dewy smile as Carewyn left the dining hall.

“Your riding companion has a very kind heart, Your Highness,” she said, once Carewyn was out of earshot.

Orion’s black eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly.

“...You know me.”

"Naturally,” said McGonagall. “You do very much resemble your grandfather -- and your father as well, I expect.”

“You knew my grandfather?”

“We met once, a very long time ago,” said McGonagall rather curtly. “Your name would also be Cosimo, correct?”

“I am called Orion,” said the Prince, his level voice dusted with the slightest edge. “By both my lady, and otherwise.”

McGonagall’s eyes grew a little smaller. “She comes from the Cromwell family, doesn’t she?”

Orion’s eyes narrowed that little bit more, but he did not reply.

“I suspected it due to her eyes,” said McGonagall, “but with how gentle they were, I wasn’t sure.”

Her eyebrows rose over her narrowed eyes as she leaned forward slightly and rested her elbows on the table.

“You have quite a predicament before you, Orion,” she said dryly, interlacing her fingers beside her chin.

Orion clasped his hands on the table in front of him, considering the Baroness carefully.

“Yet you decided not to approach me about it until Carewyn left the room,” he said levelly. “Is it because you suspected I knew your true identity, and why your house has been so miraculously shielded from the War raging on your doorstep?”

McGonagall peered at Orion over her hands with something like wry amusement. “Florentines are generally more favorable toward magic than Royaumanians. And considering your grandfather shielded my family after my mother accidentally killed the King and we fled across the border...well, it would be in-character for you, especially.”

“And yet you returned to the land that the King of Royaume had died trying to claim?” asked Orion. “Why?”

McGonagall gave a dismissive shrug. “It was our home. Even if we had to cast and recast illusions every day to prevent anyone else from finding it again, that was a cost we were willing to pay. And one I’m still willing to pay today, to protect those who live here.”

McGonagall’s eyes were drawn to the hallway -- a young man with tanned skin and a sharp nose had just paused in the door frame of the dining hall. His arm was in a makeshift sling and wrapped with what looked like bandages made out of petticoat fabric. When Orion turned around, the young man stared him down with just as beady of a look as the golden eagle from before had.

“The skirmish has ended, Baroness,” the man said brusquely.

“I hope you haven’t determined that by casting any more transfiguration spells, my young apprentice,” said McGonagall with a slightly reproachful look.

The apprentice’s nose wrinkled sourly. “No. The explosions have just stopped -- they probably decided it wasn’t worth trying to fire their cannons blindly in the dark.”

“Very well,” said McGonagall. “Orion, you and Carewyn may leave when you wish. Though I would recommend you steer clear of the border. The bandits in these woods are Florentines, so I doubt they will harm you...but I cannot be sure how they would respond to a Royaumanian, especially one related to one of their wealthiest noblemen.”

Orion nodded. “I understand.”

“Make sure you bring her back to the palace safely,” said the apprentice, his eagle-like eyes still rather critical upon Orion. “It’s the least you can do, considering she doesn’t know the extent of the risk she’s taking, interacting with you.”

He swept down the hallway and out of sight, still holding his arm. Orion was a bit surprised that the Baroness’s apprentice knew where Carewyn worked -- but then, he recalled, he’d seen an eagle flying over his and Carewyn’s heads once, while they were walking through the market together, hadn’t he? Might it have been this man then, as well -- as it likely had, every time he’d seen an eagle while crossing the border?

McGonagall looked back at Orion, her expression a bit more solemn. “I understand your rationale behind not telling her of your identity, Orion...but remember -- deception is just like any magical spell. Even the most powerful ones in the world don’t last long.”

Orion bowed his head. “...I know.”

He knew none of this could last. He knew that once Carewyn knew who he was, everything between them would change, whether he wanted it to or not. He did think that Carewyn would understand -- he desperately hoped so -- but even so, it was sad to him, knowing that his happy times with Carewyn were doomed to be so fleeting...

“I just...want to enjoy my time with her as long as I can,” said Orion softly. “However fleeting it might be...even when it is over...at least then I can cherish the memory of those moments forever.”

McGonagall’s face grew a bit gentler, almost sympathetic. "I see...”

Carewyn returned at that moment, wiping her bangs out of her eyes with her arm.

“Orion,” she said, “it looks like the stars have come out.”

Orion looked out the window. The sky was dark with night and shining with stars.

“So they have,” he said with a soft smile. He turned to McGonagall. “Forgive me, Baroness...but might we sit in the valley outside your home for a short while, before we leave?”

McGonagall smiled. “Of course.”

Orion and Carewyn found a grassy spot in the crest of the valley where they could sit and look up at the stars. Upon learning that Carewyn hadn’t ever gone stargazing before, Orion lay back against the grass and pointed out each constellation above them to Carewyn in turn -- the hero Perseus, his enemy the Cetus, and his future wife Andromeda -- -- the divine twins, Castor and Pollux, otherwise known as a pair as Gemini -- and the queen Cassiopeia, which made Carewyn laugh, thinking of her friend, KC. Carewyn loved listening to Orion’s stories: the way he would vividly embellish every detail and go off on philosophical tangents in the middle was oddly endearing. After he told his first tale about Perseus, Carewyn was reminded of the Song of Roland, an epic about a similarly grand hero, and soon Orion would ask her to sing something in response to every story he told, however weak the connection was. When they reached Cassiopeia’s tale, Carewyn sang one of her favorite songs, Greensleeves.

“I have been ready at your hand To grant whatever thou would’st crave; I have waged both life and land, Your love and goodwill for to have.

Greensleeves was all my joy; Greensleeves was my delight; Greensleeves was my heart of gold, And who but my lady Greensleeves...”

As before, Orion found himself closing his eyes and relishing the feeling of Carewyn’s voice washing over him. At the end of this song in particular, however, when he opened his eyes, he found himself chuckling softly.

Carewyn raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Orion’s black eyes were sparkling like two miniature night skies as they ran over Carewyn sitting just below him. “It’s a lovely song, as always...but I have not ever seen my ‘star twin,’ so to speak, wearing green -- only ever black and blue. You, however...”

He took her hand so that he could extend her arm out like they were dancing, showing off the olive green sleeves of her dress.

“So it seems you are ‘my lady Greensleeves,’” said Orion with a wry smile.

“Oh, stop it,” Carewyn huffed, her cheeks burning as she withdrew her hand.

Orion laughed fully. It was the first time Carewyn had ever heard him laugh so openly before -- it was a soft sound in the back of his throat, like a chuckle, and yet so much brighter and warmer. Despite herself, Carewyn couldn’t fight back a full smile of her own. Her shoulder brushed up against Orion’s as she reclined back onto the grass, her body tilting slightly toward him as she looked up at the sky.

“...There’s a constellation called Orion, isn’t there?”

Orion smiled and traced the stars of the constellation with his finger. “Just there. Do you see his chest? And there’s his bow.”

“I see it!” said Carewyn excitedly. “His arm is arched back, right?”

“Yes -- he’s holding a club in his other hand. He was a great hunter, you see -- the greatest hunter, they say, aside from Artemis, Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt. Some say that he hunted alongside her. Others say she was his one and only love...and that she, likewise, never loved any other man, in all her days.”

When Carewyn didn’t respond, Orion looked down at her. She was considering the constellation very carefully, looking oddly deep in thought.

Orion tilted his head to look better at her face. “Your eyes resemble a dark pool.”

Carewyn looked up, startled.

“They’re so deep and mysterious, I hardly know what is within them,” said Orion. “Yet I would dearly like to know, if you were willing to share their contents.”

Carewyn’s eyes drifted back up to the sky uncomfortably.

“It’s just...I’m realizing that I don’t even know if Orion is your real name,” she murmured. “You said I could call you it...you did not say it was your name.”

Orion’s face became grimmer. His hands clasped over his chest and he too looked back up at the sky.

“...It’s not the name I was born with,” he admitted. “I chose the name myself, when I was young.”

The memory of the older boys at the workhouse shoving him, piling extra work on him, and mockingly bowing whenever he walked by rippled over his mind.

“Clear the floor for the Prince!”

“Why thank you, Prince Cosimo -- you’re too kind!”

“Does the mud add flavor, your Royal Highness?”

“When I was at the workhouse, my name...antagonized the other boys. So, to try to preempt the reactions, I started avoiding telling anyone my name. I would dread anyone ever asking.”

“Like when I asked you?” whispered Carewyn. Even though her eyes were averted, she was clearly very ashamed and upset.

Orion leaned against her slightly, offering her a gentle, reassuring expression. “No, Carewyn. I dreaded it when I had no answer I could give at all. It made me anxious...made me feel like I didn’t know who I was supposed to be...made it difficult for me to interact with much of anyone at all.”

He closed his eyes.

“But...after hearing the tale of the great hunter whose skill put him on the same level as a goddess...I decided that was who I’d be. I’d chase my dreams with just as much single-minded focus -- be just as free and strong of a man, by fighting the monster inside of myself.”

Carewyn looked up at Orion, her eyes rippling with sadness. “The monster inside of yourself?”

“Mm,” said Orion. “Mine is a frenetic beast. It makes it hard for me to think, act, or even breathe, when it’s particularly intense. It makes me question absolutely everything, including myself. It shouts so many things in my ears so loudly that I can’t move or react properly, and I have to break away from everything and everyone, just to silence it. Sometimes it even brings back bad memories that make the experience even worse.”

Carewyn was once again avoiding his eye, but it was largely because she was having trouble keeping her face stoic.

“...It’s terrible, when you feel like you can’t do anything,” she said lowly.

Orion didn’t speak. He wanted her to feel comfortable enough to continue -- after a silence, she finally pressed on.

“When Jacob first went off to War...I felt so helpless. So...alone. And worse...I felt like that’s how I should be. Like I should be alone, and empty, and cold, and in pain, when Jacob was off at War suffering, while I’m stuck here.”

Her eyes darkened.

“There are times when...I think I still should be. Sometimes...well, it’s all the time.”

She closed her eyes, exhaled heavily through her nose, and then looked up at Orion with a firmer expression.

“...But I know I can’t afford to sit around and feel sorry for myself -- not when I need to be strong, for Jacob’s sake. So I don’t.”

Orion’s black eyes softened visibly, rippling with empathy. “No...you certainly don’t.”

He paused. His eyes ran over Carewyn’s face, trailing through her hair hesitantly.

“Carewyn...” he said at last, very softly, “may I...?”

He swallowed.

“...May I rest my head, on top of yours?”

Carewyn’s face broke into a very sweet, tender smile.

“Of course,” she murmured.

Orion shifted over and, very tentatively, leaned back against the grass so that Carewyn’s head rested in the crook of his neck and his cheek rested against the top of her head. He closed his eyes -- she felt so warm...

“I...realize that the beasts inside of us are ours alone to face,” said Orion softly, “but...should you need a hunter to help you beat yours back...I will be here.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes rippled with emotion as she stared up at Orion’s face. Her red lips slowly turned up in a smile that was full of pain, and yet also fuller still of love.

“And I will always help you fight yours,” she whispered. “If you need me...I will fight for you.”

Orion’s expression cleared, losing all tension as a smile pricked at the corners of his lips. He breathed deeply, his heart slowing to a wonderful peaceful beat as he took in the smell of her hair. Carewyn watched his serene, handsome face, and she found herself moving into him that bit more, just to get a better view. For that moment, it felt like the whole world outside wasn’t there -- that the War and the palace and the Cromwell clan and everything she was and wasn’t didn’t even exist...and in that moment, Carewyn realized...

If she was ever truly free, she would want to love the man called Orion with all of her heart.

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