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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 4 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: something something strictly rewrite something something pls love me something something love u bye. in all seriousness thank u for reading and bearing with me in amongst this clusterfuck…next chapter is the last of the rewrites and so a new one coming ur way within the next week!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

3rd October 2020

Vanessa takes a deep, nervous breath and looks to the ceiling. The disco ball hangs high from it and creates tiny little square reflections, chunks of glitter against the light rigging. The lights themselves are purple and blue, matching those that snake along the balcony and up the stairs and arch over the huge projection of the show’s title card at the other end of the room. There’s another projection, a yellow one that dances across the shiny lacquered ballroom floor as if it’s practising too. The judges’ table is silver and glittering and intimidating to Vanessa’s right, despite the fact that none of the judges are even sitting at it yet. The band and singers are all set up underneath the huge arch of the stairs that Vanessa has practised walking down with Brooke and the other girls and knows she’ll be walking down again in just a few hours’ time.

“Right, Brooke and Vanessa, please. You’re up!”

A little “woo!” goes up from the couples assembled in the dark shadows of the empty studio. Peppermint and Shea are leaning with their backs against a pillar, their eyes supportive but analytical. Crystal and Gigi are sitting in some of the chairs at the far back row, clapping loudly with each new routine they manage to see and whispering to each other secretively between dances. Yvie and Scarlet are both in the front row off to one side, as Jaida and Plastique are off getting some last tweaks done to their costumes. They don’t seem to mind that their partners are away and are talking excitedly to each other, Yvie every so often making Scarlet laugh so hard that she reaches out and grabs her arm or knee or hand. And Monet and Monique are on the chairs behind Vanessa and Brooke, currently screeching their heads off and pushing them forward onto the dancefloor.

It’s Saturday, the day of their first show. It’s half past four and the sky had just been starting to take on that threateningly Autumnal look halfway between grey and navy when Vanessa had arrived at Elstree studios with Akeria, her friend having to listen to her excited babbling at the thought of getting to actually participate in the competition for the first time. Vanessa hadn’t stopped talking since- not when she’d greeted all the dancers and celebrities with similar excitement, not when she’d given all the hair and makeup artists a hug and thanked them preemptively, and not when she’d been non-stop texting Brooke. To be fair, her partner had started it, so excited was she since rehearsal that morning that she’d texted her practically every available moment since. When Vanessa had finally seen her at the studios they had squealed and joined hands and jumped excitedly on the spot in anticipation of seeing their costumes, trying them on, getting to dress-rehearse and experience their first live show together. So Vanessa has been chatting excitedly the entire day.

The only point where she has fallen quiet is when she had seen Brooke in her dress for the first time.

It’s light blue with satin straps that criss-cross at the back, a bodice that is studded with dimantés, and a long skirt with ostrich feathers along the hem. It’s not the most gorgeous dress in the world but Vanessa knows it’s going to look incredible during the routine, and besides, Brooke could wear a bin bag and still look effortlessly beautiful. Brooke had looked bashfully to the floor as she emerged from her dressing room in the dress, her face ever-so-slightly red.

“It’s hideous,” she’d whispered to Vanessa, out of earshot of the costume girls who Brooke hadn’t wanted to offend. Vanessa, without knowing what had possessed her, had put her hand on Brooke’s upper arm and given it a squeeze.

“Shut up. You look stunning,” she’d smiled reassuringly at her, and the flash of gratitude in Brooke’s eyes had been all Vanessa had needed in return.

She’s in her dress now and Vanessa’s in hers too, the exact same but a royal blue instead of the sky-blue shade of Brooke’s. Vanessa’s stomach is fizzing at the thought of them both dancing in full costume, makeup and hair with an audience watching them as well.

The dress rehearsal doesn’t always run in the running order of the show and today is one of those days. Brooke and Vanessa have had to wait for some of the other couples to run their routine through whereas this evening they’re up first. They’re the ones kicking off the whole show, and Vanessa would be lying if she said she isn’t nervous. They have practised as much as they can, they can do the routine well. Now all they have to do is show the other couples what they’re up against. It’s hard, though, for Vanessa to put everything she’s seen out of her mind and focus on her own dance with Brooke. Jaida and Yvie have just finished their Jive, huge smiles on both their faces as they hit every single beat throughout, the moves coming to Yvie effortlessly as if it’s a partnership of two professionals. Before that, Jan and Jackie rehearsed their Cha Cha Cha which contained so much tension and chemistry that Vanessa became convinced that their lips were going to meet at some point in the routine.

“How you feelin’?” Vanessa whispers to Brooke as they move onto the ballroom floor. The band swap around and tune up and the singers glug water behind them. Brooke looks the most nervous Vanessa has ever seen her.

“I’m fine,” Brooke lies. Her eyes dart around in a panic, wide and white. It unsettles Vanessa so she takes Brooke’s hand, rubs her thumb over her knuckles comfortingly.

“Hey. You don’t need to be nervous,” she reassures her, despite the fact she’s swallowing down her own nerves as she speaks. “You’ve got me. It’s going to be okay.”

Brooke takes a deep breath, her lips forming a tiny “o” as she breathes out. She manages to shoot a smile Vanessa’s way, and Vanessa is slightly more at ease.

“Ready to go?” she hears a producer shout.

“Yeah!” she shouts over, as Brooke Lynn drops her hand to give the producer a thumbs up. They sit in the two chairs that form part of the beginning of their routine, there is a click of drumsticks, and a silence falls across the studio. Two notes from a trumpet, the shuffle of papers on a music stand. Vanessa’s throat is so dry. Launch show feels like a walk in the park compared to this.

There’s a one…two…one-two-three-four click from the drumsticks, the music begins, and the pair of them are off. Straight away, Vanessa can tell something isn’t right. Brooke is too in her head and it shows. When they move into hold she can feel Brooke’s hand shaking, feel her pulse through the hand on her back so fast and heavy that Vanessa wants to make eye contact with her, but she can’t- it’s dress rehearsal, and she needs to be a professional. She can feel Brooke’s feet opposite her, though, and she just knows they’re not doing what they’re meant to be doing. Brooke is trying to keep up and failing, and it’s so hard for Vanessa to push through and keep dancing when she knows it’s going so wrong. They reach their bit on the steps and Brooke stumbles, the steps all coming at the wrong time and in the wrong direction. The smile is still plastered to Vanessa’s face even though she wants to stop right there, cut the band off and just talk to Brooke, calm her down and reassure her. There’s a point in the middle where she finally gets to meet Brooke’s eyes and she tries her hardest to make them comforting and gentle in the few seconds they’re facing each other. It hurts Vanessa to see Brooke’s own full of resignation and disappointment. She manages to pick things up a little near the end of the dance but there are still a few mis-steps and blunders, and by the time it’s over and the others are clapping and cheering Vanessa can already see the hurt in Brooke’s fake smile and the slump of her shoulders. She takes her by the hand, squeezes it urgently.

“It’s just the dress run, okay?” she murmurs to her, panicking as she sees what could be tears welling up in Brooke’s eyes. “You can do this, baby. You know this.”

Brooke nods harshly, blinks once, twice, three times, and the tears- if they were ever there to begin with- vanish. Vanessa wonders whether or not to hug her and then allows her heart to take over. She pulls her in, reaching up to loop her arms around her neck and burying her face against her chest. As Brooke squeezes her waist, she decides that it was a good decision.

Of course the hug can’t last forever but their hands are joined as they leave the dancefloor and return to their seats. Nobody from costume comes over to make adjustments so they can watch some more couples, not that Vanessa particularly wants to. Monique and Monet are still in their chairs. Vanessa is reluctant to face her friend but a tap on her shoulder prompts her to turn around anyway.

“Hey,” Monique hisses, and as Vanessa turns around Brooke does too. Monique’s smile is caring and comforting as she addresses them both. “Don’t worry. First dress run is always off-puttin’, it’s a new environment and the lights are down and the band’s so different to a track. You’ll be great tonight.”

Vanessa is thankful for her words as they seem to put Brooke at ease a little more. She thanks Monique and, wanting to move the spotlight off the pair of them, asks Monet how she’s feeling.

“Ready! Excited! We’re gonna wipe the floor with all you bitches,” she teases playfully. Monique laughs supportively beside her and Vanessa wants to roll her eyes at how much of a ridiculously obvious lovesick puppy her friend is.

“Well, it won’t be hard after what just happened there,” Brooke jokes, her tone not dissimilar to Eeyore’s. Vanessa raises her eyebrows at her and points a finger in her face, channels a bit of her Abuela’s tough love.

“Hey! I’m not letting you talk like that, you’re amazing. We’re gonna be flawless tonight. Just you wait.”

She punctuates her telling-off with a tap to Brooke’s nose, which finally makes her crack a proper smile. A producer shouts over for Monique and Monet, and Vanessa and Brooke clap for them and wish them luck as they take to the stage in matching little glittery playsuits, assembling themselves in their starting positions. Vanessa takes the opportunity to talk to Brooke properly now they’re alone.

“What happened?” she asks. Brooke lets out a heavy sigh.

“Just like Monique said. It’s all so different to the studios and everything just…I don’t know…threw me off, I guess,” she mutters, picking at a bit of feather. Vanessa takes her fidgeting hand and holds it gently between both of hers. The gesture seems to surprise Brooke, and all of a sudden their eyes meet, green opposite brown.

“Brooke Lynn, listen to me. I want you to know this. You can do this fucking dance.”

“I know I can!” Brooke whines, exasperated. Her expression is pained and pouting. “That’s what fucks me off about the whole thing. We’ve done it literally perfectly before. I feel like the only time I was worse than when I just did that dance was the day we started learning it.”

“Well, that’s good! I’m glad you know that,” Vanessa says firmly, enthused by Brooke’s determination. “So. What’s our game plan for tonight?”

“Do it perfectly again,” Brooke says instantly, and Vanessa squeezes her hand between the both of hers. She can’t stop the grin that creeps onto her face at Brooke’s decisive tone.

“Let’s do that, then.”

Brooke’s returning her smile and hasn’t taken back her hand and the world seems right again.

Monet and Monique’s Cha Cha Cha is the best they’ve seen so far- granted it’s the only one they’ve seen so far, but it’s good. Monique’s choreography is funny and clever and as they dance the pair tell the story of a backing singer (Monet) upstaging the star (Monique). Despite the fun they’re having the pair of them manage to only make a couple of mistakes, and Vanessa is cheering for them at the end. Courtney and Blair are next, and God, Phi Phi had been right when she’d said they had a lot of work to do. Blair plods her way through their Tango and visibly shows the mistakes she makes on her face, but Vixen still claps and cheers once they’re done as if she’s just witnessed a piece of modern art. Their performance seems to cheer Brooke up significantly, and Vanessa can practically read her mind- at least we won’t be as bad as that. As if Brooke’s able to read hers, she leans down and gives Vanessa a smug grin which makes her heart skip a beat.

They don’t stay to watch the rest of the couples. Instead they practise as much as they can in Brooke’s dressing room, which embarrassingly makes Vanessa nervous to even be in. Brooke’s all business, though, and they mark as much as they can of the dance in the space that they have.

They do it perfectly all three times.

Hair and makeup’s waiting for them, though, so they eventually relent and join the other couples who are all assembled in the huge room either getting combs and brushes swept through their hair, sponges dabbing at their face, or sitting and chatting. The pair of them are out of breath after their impromptu rehearsal, and when they enter the room a whoop goes up from Willam, who’s sat beside Courtney. Come to think of it, they both seem to be joined at the hip despite not being partnered and it’s as if the two of them are salt and pepper shakers, never one without the other.

“Oh! Strictly curse! Strictly curse! Dressing-room fucking!” she cries out, eliciting a laugh from half the room to Vanessa’s embarrassment. Before either of them can defend themselves, Phi Phi cuts in from her position in the hairdresser’s chair.

“They were probably rehearsing. Which is what we should be doing after that fuck-up of a dress run.”

Vanessa’s intrigued by the mention of how their dance went, but instead she ignores the comment and nods her head gratefully. Brooke replies, and Vanessa doesn’t miss the blush that’s crept onto her face. “Yeah, post-rehearsal sweats, not post-sex sweats. Sorry, Willam.”

Willam’s undeterred, and she shrugs lightly as she chomps on a cereal bar. “Give it time. I’ve never been wrong yet. I gotta sixth sense for this kinda shit, y’know.”

“Ooh, how come?” Courtney asks, crossing her legs and batting her lashes Willam’s way. Willam immediately swivels away from Vanessa and Brooke to give Courtney all of her attention, and Vanessa rolls her eyes long-sufferingly at her partner.

“Strictly curse, Jesus. As if,” Vanessa laughs, but it comes out more bitter than she’d wanted it to. There are still memories she associates with that phrase, she can’t help them, and even though time has passed she’s still got scars that are slowly healing.

Brooke gives a snort beside her, but Vanessa sees the way she doesn’t smile with her eyes, the way she looks almost wounded. Is Brooke…disappointed? Vanessa scrambles to follow up her comment.

“I mean, you know, some good comes out of it all the time. Obviously like Shea with Sasha…I just think…”

“It’s not something you’d ever fall victim to,” Brooke nods slowly, understandingly. Vanessa shakes her head.

“No, no, that’s not it at all! Like if I developed a connection to someone on the show like that, then of course!” she explains quickly. All at once she sees a small twinkle appear in Brooke’s eye, and it sends a spark of electricity up her spine. She feels she has to justify her earlier remark and she swallows before deliberately forcing her tone to be light. “It’s just, you know…obviously after what happened last year.”

Brooke makes a face as if someone’s just dropped a very heavy object on her foot. “Right. Right. Of course. Fuck, sorry, of course you have every right to hate people talking about it so much.”

Vanessa gives a soft laugh. It still hurts and the humiliation might never dissipate but she tilts her head and smiles at Brooke. “Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

They drop the topic, chat about the show instead and Vanessa explains to her how it’ll all work. The pros will do their group number first (Vanessa will change into her costume for that later, a strappy silver leotard with a fringed skirt that hangs low on her waist), which the dancers have been rehearsing all week. Then the judges come out and sit at their table and do a bit of chit-chat with Michelle. Then each of the couples come down the famous stairs and are introduced, and after that the show kicks off. With them. They are opening the whole show, Vanessa’s brain reminds her, and her stomach does a somersault. While they chat a couple of the other girls join in. Scarlet sits herself down in a free chair opposite them and chips in in between bites of mango, and Yvie pipes up every so often from her position in the makeup chair.

“Are the judges really terrifying?” Scarlet asks nervously, biting down hard on a piece of fruit. Vanessa shrugs, pulls a face.

“I mean, I wouldn’t know really. Never competed before, remember?”

Vixen pipes up from her place in the hairstylist’s chair. “Bianca can be a bitch but she’s alright when she ain’t behind the judge’s table. I think half of it is just her playing into the panto villain stereotype. Kennedy is just happy to be there, she always gives fair scores. Laganja is on a different planet, she’s hilarious. Always marks high. Shangie is lovely but you know she undermarks half the time and plays favourites the other half.”

“Well, I’ll just need to make myself one of her favourites,” Scarlet flips her perfectly curled hair and shrugs.

“You’re already one of my favourites,” Yvie says nonchalantly. Scarlet fixes her photoshoot-ready smile onto her.

“The only correct decision,” she points at her approvingly. Yvie laughs a too-loud laugh that makes Vanessa roll her eyes at just how lovesick and useless everyone in this cast seems to be. Then again, she supposes she can’t really talk. Scarlet’s talking to Yvie now as if they’re the only two people in the room. “How’re you feeling, baby?”

“Just excited! Ready to go and get some tens,” she laughs, although Vanessa knows she’s not really joking.

Vixen raises her eyebrows, amused by the girl’s cocky remark. “Reign it in, girl. They never give out tens on the first night. You wanna score above twenty-five, that’s a successful first week,”

“Well, at least nobody’s going home this week,” Scarlet shrugs easily. She’s right- there’s no vote in the first week, and all the scores are instead carried over to next week’s show. But Vanessa doesn’t see that as a chance to relax. Scores are combined with the public votes so she knows a high score in the first week puts them in a good position for the next. She knows she’s thinking ahead too much but she can’t really help it. This is a long game, like Akeria said on launch night, and Vanessa is playing it to win.

“How’re you feeling, Scarlet?” Yvie asks back. Scarlet pouts. Vanessa thinks it’s more than a little for Yvie’s benefit.

“I’m just nervous! I hope I do okay.”

“You’ll be amazing,” Yvie tells her, and Scarlet’s smile is back on her face. Yvie smirks as she finishes her sentence off with, “Like me.”

The girls all laugh. Brooke takes out her phone and scrolls it a bit, nudging Vanessa after a while.

“Cute backstage video?” she offers, and Vanessa nods happily, glad to see Brooke a little less subdued. Vanessa leans into her as Brooke tilts the camera at them both.

“Hey family, we’re just about to get our hair and makeup done, hoping they can do something to fix this,” Brooke jokes, gesturing around her entire face. Vanessa shoves her.

“Shut up, girl, you’re gorgeous.”

The compliment is out before Vanessa can stop herself, but she doesn’t miss the way Brooke’s smile gets slightly wider. She ignores the compliment with her words but her face acknowledges it. “We’ve just done our dress run, it went horribly-”

“Oh my God, the lies you are telling today!!” Vanessa’s jaw drops. She knows it hadn’t gone well, but she just doesn’t want Brooke being so down on herself.

“Tell me we weren’t bad.”

“We weren’t bad!!”

“Well we weren’t good, either,” Brooke laughs, and Vanessa has to hand that one to her. “So you guys better vote for us next week, because we’ll need it.”

“Yeah, vote, vote, vote!” Vanessa nods enthusiastically.

“For Willam and Phi Phi!” Willam ducks her head into shot, and Vanessa pushes her away as she bursts out laughing.

“Brooke and Vanessa!” someone from hair calls, and Brooke pulls a face at the camera.

“Ah! Right, that’s us! See you all later, love you,” Brooke squeals into her phone and stops recording. In lieu of a story she decides to post the video on her grid, with the caption:

bhytes: 1 hour to go! Mood: terrified! Lucky I have @vanessavanjie dancing with me!

Vanessa is heartened by the tag, promises herself she’ll reply with something later. As the hair stylist sprays Brooke’s hair to within an inch of its life, Vanessa watches in the mirror as Brooke scrolls her phone, then pauses, a stifled smile creeping across her lips and a hand reaching up to touch her face self-consciously. Vanessa narrows her eyes with interest and, refreshing the page, finds that five new comments have popped up on the video Brooke’s posted. Three of them are a series of emojis, one is well-wishes from Brooke’s One Show co-star Nina, and one in particular catches her eye.

branjie5ever05: you GUYS i can’t take it you’re so good together!!! like an old married couple!! can’t wait to see you dance! branjie 5ever!!

Vanessa allows herself to wonder if that was the comment that had made Brooke’s face light up before her mind tells her how utterly ridiculous she’s being.

Hair and makeup is a blur and once they’re done, Brooke takes Vanessa’s breath away for a second time. The pair of them never really get to see each other with a full face of makeup on- they would just sweat it off in rehearsals- so this is unfamiliar territory to Vanessa. Brooke’s beauty hits her all over again just as it had on launch night, and Vanessa feels herself dissolving into a bashful mess whose tongue has been cut out.

“Wow,” Brooke says quietly, her tone of approval sending another little spark through Vanessa’s body. The atmosphere is already so electric and Brooke doesn’t need to add to that but she won’t complain. Brooke gives her a small smile that’s almost shy as she manoeuvres herself out of the makeup chair. “You look so good.”

Vanessa smiles, mutters a soft thanks to her. Brooke keeps going.

“I mean, better than good, obviously. Really pretty,” she stutters out, and Vanessa has to try not to laugh at how endearing she’s being.

“Well, same to you, boo. If anything goes wrong, which it won’t, all you need to do is smile at the judges and then maybe they’ll ignore it.”

Brooke rolls her eyes, gives a small laugh. “Ugh, please. I’m not Scarlet, I’m not going to simp for the judges.”

Vanessa lets out a howl of a laugh which causes some of the other girls to turn their heads. She yells an explanation. “Brooke Lynn just used the term ‘simp’!!”

“What? Did I not use it right?” she blinks, unamused. Vanessa butts her head into her arm and hugs her, trying to explain how funny she finds a thirty year old TV presenter using a term she’s only ever seen on Twitter.

If Brooke’s Insta post is a countdown to the show starting, then their time is eventually up. Vanessa feels like Brooke hugs her extra tight before she goes out to do the pro dance, clingy in the best kind of way. They won’t be separated for long but Vanessa still feels her heart hammering in her chest as the dancers begin to assemble on the ballroom floor, walking through the audience who are silent in anticipation (or perhaps under strict instructions from the producers). There’s a countdown and Vanessa tries to forget that, unlike the launch show, this is live, her dancing instantly beamed into the living rooms of everyone watching. The lights begin to come up, and the commentator’s voice booms through the studio.

“Live on Saturday night, this is Strictly Come Dancing!”

The audience cheers, and the band play the first notes of Boogie 2Nite. Vanessa can hardly breathe as she watches Akeria and Phi Phi open the dance, not a single error between them as they kick and spin each other around the floor. When Vanessa and the other pros join in at the swell of the chorus there is another excited cheer that ripples through the studio and makes Vanessa’s smile hurt her face. She gets to her solo and feels as if she’s igniting as the lights beam down hot onto her and she spins, kicks one leg high into the air, melts and then finishes with a stag jump that she knows wasn’t perfect but she’s too full of adrenaline to care. She partners with Monique and the two of them have matching grins on their faces as they dance, Monique spinning Vanessa round, round, round until she’s almost dizzy. As the dance comes to a close, Vanessa hits her pose right on the last beat, holds it, and then after waiting for the audience to finish applauding she runs backstage along with the other girls, hurrying into costume to change into her quickstep dress. The wardrobe team help her change and before she knows it, she returns into the line that the partners are all forming at the top of the stairs, waiting for their names to be called out. As soon as Brooke sees her, her face lights up in a smile and she wraps her in a tight hug. She smells of hairspray and fake tan and peppermint chewing gum, and Vanessa never wants to step out of her arms.

“You were so amazing. Well, everyone was. But you were the best,” Brooke murmurs into her ear before she lets her go, and Vanessa’s whole body tingles at the praise. There’s hardly time to reply, however, before a runner is telling them that they’re to come down the stairs in just twenty seconds, and stand in the spot they’d been given earlier that day during the dress run. Vanessa’s palms are sweaty and she’s self-conscious of them as Brooke takes her hand.

“Introducing your Strictly Come Dancing stars!”

The commentator’s voice is loud through the speakers and Brooke’s thumb strokes Vanessa’s skin between her thumb and index finger as they look at each other affirmingly before stepping out onto the stairs. The lights are blinding in Vanessa’s face but she’s still smiling and waving at the top of the stairs as the audience cheers for her and Brooke.

“TV presenter Brooke Lynn Hytes, and her partner Vanessa Mateo!”

Vanessa sneaks a look at Brooke and she’s already looking at her. The coincidence makes them both giggle before they walk carefully down the stairs, Vanessa telling herself not to trip on her way down. They make their way to their space and watch and clap for the other couples while the anticipation fizzes in Vanessa’s chest. They’re first. They’re first. They’re first. If she’s this nervous, she doesn’t know how Brooke must be feeling. Eventually all the couples are assembled, and Michelle is introducing them.

“And kicking off the whole show…it’s Brooke and Vanessa!”

As the audience gives a whoop and their VT plays Vanessa takes Brooke’s arm and looks at her, making sure she’s okay. To her relief Brooke returns her gaze steadfastly and there’s a little sparkle in her eye. She doesn’t seem as anxious as she was before. The couples leave the ballroom floor, Monique, Akeria and Crystal making sure to tap Vanessa on the shoulder on their way past and whisper a quick “good luck” to her and Brooke. They sit on the chairs that the set people are running about assembling, and Vanessa hisses across to Brooke.

“You good?”

Broke nods to her. “We’ve got this.”

Vanessa’s nerves instantly leave her body. Brooke’s truly back in the room and her head is in the game. There’s a countdown of five from a runner and the commentator’s voice booms overhead again.

“Dancing the quickstep…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

The drum kicks in and their performance has begun. Already it’s nothing like the dress rehearsal. Brooke’s smile is genuine and easy during their silly interview-style bit, and when Brooke takes her hand as she rises from the chair Vanessa can feel her pulse again but it’s not heavy and frightened like before. It’s full of adrenaline and excitement and as Vanessa rests her hand on her upper arm and Brooke rests hers between her shoulder blades, something just seems to click. They’re off across the dancefloor and Vanessa knows Brooke’s steps and hops are in time with hers, the intricate footwork coming so naturally to her. As they go to cross the floor again, Brooke’s smile seems to falter as she stumbles. Vanessa doesn’t let this deter her and as they meet each other’s eyes she gives Brooke a wink.

“Beans on toast!” she reminds her mid-dance, and Brooke’s confidence is back as they do the next set of steps perfectly. Their feet are going so fast that Vanessa can’t even pick up on whether or not Brooke’s made any more mistakes yet, but the majority of their first dance has been good.

They reach their little section on the steps, and Brooke gives the slightest little falter as she makes eye contact with Bianca. The judge never gives anything away so her steely gaze might have rattled her, but as soon as they’re off the steps and back in each others’ arms Vanessa gives Brooke’s hand a squeeze.

“Almost there, last section!” Vanessa tells her encouragingly. They’re back to kicking, stepping and hopping their way across the ballroom floor to their seats where they finish, and as Brooke hits her final pose and Vanessa hits hers the audience gives a loud cheer. As soon as they’ve held it for a few seconds, Vanessa squeals, jumps up and meets Brooke’s waiting arms. She knows they’ve got to go over to Michelle to be interviewed but she holds the hug for a few more moments than necessary, raising her voice over the roar of the crowd as she speaks against Brooke’s rapidly rising and falling chest.

“You did it! So incredible!!” she gasps, all out of breath. To her shock, Brooke rests a hand on one side of Vanessa’s face and plants a kiss against the other.

Vanessa doesn’t know if the past five minutes could get any better.

They make their way over to Michelle. Brooke’s got one arm slung around Vanessa’s shoulders and Vanessa’s not moved her arm from her hips since their hug. Michelle is waiting for them with a bright smile on her face, seemingly as happy with their performance as they are.

“Congratulations you two, what an opening to the show!” she smiled encouragingly, and Vanessa gives Brooke’s waist a squeeze. “Brooke, how did it feel performing tonight?”

Brooke’s out of breath as she talks. “So amazing. So, so amazing. Dress run went so badly and just having the real thing go so well…wow. Just the best feeling.”

“I told y’all she was good!” Vanessa pipes up proudly beside her, and Brooke gives a laugh and pulls Vanessa in closer to her side.

“Judges! What did you think? Shangela?”

Vanessa’s heart stands still as she comes to the first judge, smiling gently at her desk.

“Well first of all, what a way to open the show! So much fun, and Vanessa, so great to have you as part of a pairing this year, that choreo was something else.”

Vanessa can feel Brooke’s eyes on her and she flushes pink from the praise, stutters out a thank you.

“Brooke, great job tonight, you lost your footing a little bit on the steps there, but overall a gorgeous start. Just work on strengthening your core, holding your frame a little bit better, and once you do that? Lovely, gal!”

Vanessa turns her head to see how Brooke’s reacting, She’s smiling and nodding and taking it all on board. Laganja speaks next, growing animated as she gives her feedback.

“I think we have one to watch here, mama!” she cries, and the audience gives a cheer. Vanessa looks up encouragingly at Brooke, gives her waist another squeeze because she can. “So much amazing potential! You just have a natural eleganza, all light and frothy like a latté! A couple of mistakes, girl, work on not showing that on your face. Cuz when you show it, we all see it, you know? But all that aside, well done.”

Bianca’s up next, and Vanessa clenches her core in preparation. The woman could watch Torvill and Dean dance Bolero on ice and still find something to say. “Uh, I thought the footwork needed tightening up, there were bits that were just a little bit too haphazard for me, your elbow was drooping just a little bit which is not great, you did lose your footing on the stairs here…”

Vanessa can feel Brooke drooping a little beside her, a bit like her elbow had allegedly been doing. The audience boos Bianca like the pantomime villain that Vixen had mentioned, but the woman’s face cracks into a small smile as she finishes her remarks. “But what I do love about you is your energy, you have a lot of great potential as Ganja’s pointed out, and I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do when you get just a little bit more technical.”

The audience seems appeased and claps her comments, and Brooke has perked up at Vanessa’s side like a flower that’s been given a drink. Michelle turns to Kennedy, the final judge to give her comments.

“Brooke! I think you started out a little bit nervous, and what was nice was that as the dance went on you kinda came out into your own a bit. You have a lovely feminine and elegant way of moving which is really nice to see in an all-female partnership, and you seem really comfortable in hold with Vanessa, which is lovely.”

Vanessa tries to fight the blush that washes her face at Kennedy’s comment and doesn’t succeed.

“Just work on your presentation a little bit and your confidence and…yeah. I’m living for you, miss, you’re gonna be dangerous.”

Vanessa is heartened by the way Brooke’s face lights up at the praise. Michelle thanks the judges and waves them off upstairs to be interviewed by Divina, her co-host, and the pair of them pick up the hems of their dresses and entwine their hands as they dash upstairs to the auditorium (or, as it’s commonly known between the dancers, the Divinatorium). Most of the other pairs are there having watched them dance while they wait for their turn, and they all clap the pair of them as they nudge their way through.

“You did it!” Divina smiles, giving Brooke a hug as she meets them both. “Congratulations! Now, nice comments from the judges- I know Bianca got a bit pernickety there, but how do you feel about them?”

“Really happy, yeah! I just can’t believe what Vanessa’s managed to do with me in the space of two weeks, she’s been amazing. It’s all been down to her.”

Vanessa can’t help the rays of sunshine that feel like they’re emanating from her face as she looks at Brooke. Divina turns to her.

“Vanessa, you’ve been benched for a couple of years now, how does it feel to have a partner finally?”

“You know what, it was worth the wait. She’s been an absolute star,” Vanessa beams, wrapping her other arm around Brooke’s waist and pulling her close just like Brooke had done once their dance had finished.

“Worth the wait! Too cute, you two. Well, the judges’ scores are in.”

Vanessa’s stomach gives a dip. She feels Brooke’s grip tighten on her shoulder as the voice of the commentator rings across the studio. This is the moment they’ve both been waiting for. They’re about to get their first ever scores.

“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”

Bianca holds up her paddle. Vanessa blinks and tries not to pull a face. Because what’s on the paddle is a number, a number that doesn’t correlate with the dance they both just did.

“Five.”

Hardly wanting to look away, she keeps her eyes fixed to the screen.

“Kennedy Davenport.”

“Five!” Kennedy is holding up an identical paddle. Vanessa can’t help it- she scrunches her face up, turns to Brooke.

“Five?” she shakes her head. Brooke shrugs and smiles but Vanessa knows the scores are hurtful to her. They’re being undermarked- okay, she knows the dance wasn’t perfect and they made just a couple of mistakes, but it was at least a six, perhaps even a seven.

“Shangela Wadely.”

“Five.”

Vanessa shakes her head, trying to keep a smile on her face but wanting to storm down the stairs and give those judges a piece of her mind.

“Laganja Estranja.”

“Six!” the girl cries happily as she holds up her paddle, and the audience lets out a cheer. Vanessa relaxes a little, and she can feel somebody pat her on the back encouragingly.

“Happy with those?” Divina asks a little gingerly, and Vanessa jumps in before Brooke can say anything.

“You know what? It’s week one, and it’s a start!” she shrugs firmly. She’s not going to let this dent her confidence or Brooke’s. This isn’t the first time she’s been undermarked or disappointed in her career and it sure as hell won’t be the thing that knocks her or Brooke down.

“The only way is up,” Brooke agrees beside her, nodding fiercely.

“Well, we all thought you did amazing,” Divina reassures them both, and Vanessa flashes her a grateful smile. Divina explains to the TV audience that they can’t vote until next week, and that the judges’ scores will be carried over to the next show. She closes their interview and the audience claps them and just like that, after all the buildup, their first dance is over and they head backstage.

The moment it’s just the pair of them, Vanessa instantly pulls Brooke into a hug because God knows if Brooke doesn’t need one then she definitely does. They’re in the cream-painted corridors where the dressing rooms are, and the light is harsh and bright around them when all Vanessa wants is just a moment of darkness. She wants to be under her duvet, pulling it up high over her head and letting the shadows envelop her. As her arms circle around Brooke’s waist she lets out a sigh. Brooke returns the hug and Vanessa takes a deep, calming breath as she feels the older woman’s strong arms wrap around her shoulders and pull her in close to her chest. Vanessa’s back is against the cold paint of the wall and it’s contrasting so much with the warmth Brooke’s body is giving off. They stand like that in silence for a moment, each of them grounding the other, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s heart through her chest. It’s intimate and gentle, and not a single word has been spoken between them but Vanessa can sense a shift in the atmosphere. She feels something change between them, a difference that somehow pulls them closer together and connects them in a way that they hadn’t been before.

“That was undermarked. You were amazing,” she whispers in annoyance against Brooke’s chest. Brooke’s arms tighten around her in response.

“We were amazing,” she whispers back. Vanessa’s not sure why they’re whispering, but she likes it, makes the moment seem more theirs somehow.

The thought appears in her head and it’s out before she can stop it. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Brooke shakes her head above her and repeats her words back to her instantly. “No, I’m lucky. So, so lucky.”

Giving another sigh, Vanessa lets her arms slide down to her side and, taking her cue, Brooke slowly releases her, but not before resting her hands on her shoulders and giving her a smile that seems to say so much without saying anything at all. Vanessa wonders how long that hug could have gone on for if she’d let it.

“Put it out of your mind. We move,” she says decisively, and Brooke gives a single nod.

“Tomorrow’s a new day, and next week’s a new week.”

They link arms and go to be interviewed for the socials and, after the moment she’s just shared with Brooke, Vanessa knows that her smile won’t have to be faked.

#rpdr fanfiction #bet you look good on the dancefloor #ortega #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #monique heart #monet x change #willam belli #courtney act #phi phi o'hara #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #background jankie #background momo #background scyvie #background crygi

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dollsorwhatever · 5 years ago

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Crystal Star

So I feel REALLY stupid for freaking out about my LOL OMG dolls not getting here fast enough, but I was really tired and overworked and was looking forward to them for weeks so I’m fine with my outburst lmfao Anyway, Target got Crystal Star in stock yesterday, with faster cheaper shipping than Amazon so I ordered her on Target and cancelled my order for her on Amazon, and she showed up today!

Luckily she came to me with a good face and hairline! After the stress of acquiring these dolls I was worried they’d all be jacked up as punishment for my impatience lmfao She is significantly more impressive IRL than she is in pictures, I originally wanted to wait for her but I decided I don’t want Dollie and got her instead lol

I didn’t take any freshly deboxed pics because there are tons of them by now, and I wanted to wash her helmet hair lol Her outfit is INCREDIBLE in both design and quality, the fabrics are rich and heavy and the construction of her bodysuit is stunning:

The belt is sewn on in two places but removable, and her neckline is made of actual threaded beads instead of a chunk of plastic sewn on! The halter (which isn’t removable, its just hanging inside the neckline in this pic lol) is also made with threaded beads and sewn onto the neckline, and it also has real clasps in the back!

Her crystal accessories are all transparent, with an iridescent overlay on everything that looks amazing (especially with the lightup stand shining on them)

Her shoes OOF gorgeous. Finally, her massive skirt- it’s GIGANTIC, and made with beautiful fabrics. it feels heavy, it lays beautifully, and the underside is entirely covered with thousands of tiny sequins:

Every single aspect of this doll screams luxury. The stand is an absolute monument, it’s HUGE and beautiful:

And it lights up in a couple different places when you press the crystal on the bottom right corner:

The light stays on for only a few seconds, I kinda wish you could leave it on. Would make a cute night light! Onto the doll! I didn’t take any photos of her stock hair, basically it’s covered in product in one massive finger wave, with a tendril pulled to the side in a smaller finger wave. The tendril comes with a little bit of tinsel rooted in, but it came out with the slightest tug. Luckily, because I despise tinsel lmfao. Here she is after a wash and condition with scalding hot water, then gently towel dried:

She has beautiful, soft curls that frame her face beautifully. And here it is after I twisted it into four large curls, to keep the curl pattern intact while it dries:

Beautiful! I’ll leave her to dry like this, then smooth some Volks Treatment mist through her hair and comb out her curls once it’s all dry. My only qualm with this doll is that her torso is entirely the wrong color lmfao. Idk if it’s like that for all of them, and I know for a fact that Cosmic Nova (the only other OMG with this skintone)’s torso matches her head and body, so idk what’s up with this one. It’s not as obvious IRL but it is a little weird. Otherwise this doll is incredibly well made, every single detail is thoroughly and thoughtfully designed and certainly on par with (and maybe even better than) MGA’s previous holiday Bratz dolls! I also wish she came with a regular stand so that I could display her alongside my other OMGs, but that’s me being nitpicky lmfao. Amazon FINALLY shipped DJ and she will be here tomorrow, I’m praying she isn’t bald under her pigtails because I have restyling plans for her. And luckily I was able to find Nova and Snow, the last of the OMGs I wanted for this season, at Walmart today- literally the ONLY Walmart within a 20 mile radius that still had them! They’ll get styled over the weekend. Well, Snow and DJ will. Nova is gonna sit for a bit because her tinsel, unlike Crystal, isn’t coming out easily and it’ll take me several hours to remove every single strand and I just don’t have the energy for that right now lmfao. I may get Dollie eventually, but I hate her outfit and her bangs need to be ripped out, so I’m not needing her that bad. The new Bigger Surprise doll coming on the 14th will be MINE though.

#LOL surprise #lol surprise omg #lol #omg #doll #MGA entertainment #collectomg #crystal star #bratz #holiday #winter disco

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cosmiciaria · 5 years ago

Text

Radiata Stories review! (spoiler free - long post!)

I am SPEECHLESS. I can't believe I spent so many years without knowing about this game. My friend thoroughly recommended it to me but with my ps4 and many other pc games, I just wasn't in the mood for a ps2 oldie. But here I am, and I want to spread the word: play Radiata Stories.

In the world of Radiata, the land is divided into regions that belong to different races: elves, dwarves, orcs, humans (and ronsos – no, sorry, wrong game – but you can't fool me there's a lion guy who looks like Kimahri from FFX). These species have been at odds since time immemorial, and thus the dragons – Earth, Water, Fire, Wind, Silver and Gold – have guarded their beings from above.

We follow Jack Russell, a 16-year-old who dreams of becoming a knight. We accompany him to the entrance exams, only to see him fail miserably against a girl, Ridley Silverlake. Despite his clumsiness and obvious embarrassment for having been defeated, he's allowed to join the Radiata Knights, alongside Ridley, only because he's the son of an important late knight. They form a new brigade called Rose Cochon, under Captain Ganz Rothschild's leadership.

This trio will be sent into action in no time. Their dynamics are fun and there's a bit of rivalry between the two new knights, but they get things done. Ganz is proud to finally be able to be captain of his own brigade, and regards his two pupils with care and wisdom. This seems to be the flow the story is going to follow.

An important quest arrives: Rose Cochon brigade must reach the Elf Region and ask the Light Elves leader for a favor. However, things get tough in their journey there: a blood orc attacks the Dark Elves village, and the brigade plunges in to fight and defend.

In the battle, Ridley gets mortally wounded. Jack gets all frantic and desperate, and the brigade asks for the Elves' help. Lord Nogueira, the Dark Elf leader, decides to do the unthinkable for non-humans: the only way to save Ridley is to perform the transpiritation ritual, a spell only available for elves that allows them to take the soul of a dying fellow and use it to heal another one who might still live.

The ritual is successful, and Ridley's soul is fused with that of a small elf who'd died in the battle. Everything seems to settle down for a bit, with Jack and Ganz returning to Radiata City filled with good hopes for Ridley.

The next day, you're fired from the Knights.

This is where the game opens up for you!

From now on, it's just you, Jack, in the middle of a big city, paving his way to the top of the Vancoor Theater guild, the guild of warriors. Since the only thing you can do is fight, better to put it to good use and earn some money in the process!

The game offers a variety of things to do. You can start recruiting people as party members. You know, like, in Dragon Age, you can recruit characters into your team? Or, in any other rpg, that you have a team of five or six characters, maybe some more? Yes? Ok, here in RS you can recruit (listen to me) over 170 characters. Yep, you read right. Mind you, you can't recruit them (catch 'em all) in your first playthrough, but just so you know, yes, this game is that big.

Some people will ask you for a favor before they're added to the 'friend list', but others will join your right off the bat. Once you have a respectable team of four party members that you choose, you can begin doing solo missions, which are the guild's assignments to you and will redound in money and goodies. You get to know the other guild's members, you get to fight alongside them, you get to know and care for the civilians in the city. With a night-day system, if this game is anything, is alive.

NPC's have their own schedule: following the clock in the top left corner, they do and say different stuff depending of the moment of the day you approach them. They're walking around the city, performing random things, making them seem alive. Some events are only available at night, some others only during day. Some people will be nice, others not so much. Some parts of the city will shine, others will look depressing and dirty. Birds chirp, trees are swept by the wind's fine breeze, mosquitoes swarm around – this game breathes life into its pixels in every corner.

Now that we're on the aesthetic aspect, I must admit, this game looks gorgeous. With a very prominent anime artstyle, still it aged pretty well for today's standards: sometimes the lighting was too real, the sunlight pouring from the mountain's side, the character's long shadow stretching onto the road. The animations are good as well, as are the physics: I am beyond amazed by how well clothes and hairs move as flawlessly as if they were real. Each of the recruitable characters have a different victory pose and they have different lines for everything. Some particle effects are really nice, since I didn't think there existed the technology for it back then. The main city is huge, and when I say huge, I mean, every door you see, you can enter, and inside you'll find at least a two-floor building with objects to interact with and people to talk to. And don't even get me started on how BIG the Vareth Institute is in itself – and all that stuff is optional! The world is also vast and filled with brimming elements, although don't be fooled by the illusion of 3D: this game is, mostly, a 2D experience when you want to go from point A to point B.

You'll spend a good chunk of your game doing tasks for the guild. In the meantime, Ganz is somewhere playing the bandit and Ridley is hearing voices in her head. In this 'middle' part of the game, the story seemed to drag on forever for a bit: I wanted to go on with the main plot, and, while you can actually do that (just hit the sleep option over and over until a cutscene appears), the game tends to make you go through long and tedious solo missions to get that Grind™ you need. Dungeons are not long or too big in reality, but the number of encounters (which are forced on you since you can't avoid enemies by circling around most of the times for the 2D aspect) turns what should've been a walk in the park into a dragging hell. This portion of the game, I'm not going to lie, seemed a bit too long for me. And since the gameplay mostly consists in pressing the circle button and hearing Jack yell "Ha! Haiiyaah! Ha! Haiiyaah!" for ten hours straight, yeah, it can get boring.

But I guess the game was trying to make you feel at ease, comfortable around these walls. You're training your fave party members, you go with them everywhere to play the warrior and earn some money, you get occasional messages from Ridley telling you everything's fine – until the plot makes a halt and suddenly you must choose.

I'll keep this spoiler free, but this game is almost fifteen years old, so these are no news: there will come a point where the plot branches into two possible paths, the Human side, and the Non-Human side. I can't tell you which one is right, for there seems to be pros and cons in both, so I'll let your heart decide. For what we care now, I chose the Non-Human side, completely convinced with my decision, only to see myself doubt in many instances.

At this point, your plot shakes. Your comfort zone breaks. Suddenly, things are changing: your team is not there anymore, Ridley acts weird, where the hell is Ganz, what's going on with the dragons? Who am I supposed to trust in this world full of people who just want to exterminate each other?

I won't spoil it. I'll just say, that whatever you choose, please stand firm by your decision. You'll need that conviction, because the game is going to make your ground tremble a few times. And with those endings that await you – man, I don't know if I want to finish either path.

So, to avoid spoilers, I'll talk about the characters a bit!

Jack is your main protagonist, as you could've guessed. He's your average shonen main guy, at least in the beginning hours. He's clumsy, he wants to be a hero, and he even mocks shonen protagonists by saying that he'll awaken to a dormant power and save the world with his friends. But life hits him hard, accuses him of things he hasn't done, and so Jack evolves across the story. His character development is subtle, but it's there: he starts off as a brat who wants to fight, ends on a mature note, with some quite insightful thoughts and reactions I haven't expected from him. Normally, the shonen guy remains a shonen guy; this doesn't happen here. Jack ends up being an adorkable character, worthy of respect, sympathy, and a force to be reckoned with.

Ridley remains a calm force during the game. She's collected, she's well-educated, and she knows her way around. At the beginning, she can't stand Jack much, but as days go by, she starts to consider him as an equal and true friend. In the Non-Human path, her romantic feelings towards him are crystal clear: there's a small spark between them, that flickers every now and then when the plot allows them a moment's respite. Only them and a handful of other characters know the truth behind the transpiritation event, and as such there's a profoundly deep connection that keeps them together, although they're separated most of the story.

Ganz is ma fave boi and he must be protected at all costs. A young and promising man, Ganz was created to be likeable. You can't help but sympathize with his funny appearance: chubby, huge armor, huge sword, and funny moustache. But he's also a man of wisdom, with a golden heart. He's righteous and wants to do good. And he deserves all the love in the world.

Other notable characters are Genius, a scientist who's obsessed with the transpiritation thing that went down, and may know more about the plot than it seems at first glance; Natalie, a guarding woman who works as Ridley's not-so-secret bodyguard; Larks¸ the leader of the Knights and whose motivations remain a mystery to me even to this day – I can't read into this character at all!; Lord Zane, the leader of the Light Elves, who laughs maniacally when no one is watching and I can't bring myself to like him; Gawain, Ganz's father, who disappeared 16 years ago since his best friend died; and Cross, Ridley's fiancé, who just wants to be the best hunter and paves his way to the top of the knight ranks by any means necessary. I hate this guy so much, his only trait is 'I am a bad person' and that's it, he's so cartoonishly evil it makes me want to punch the screen. Probably you see more of him in the Human path, but unless he has a very tragic backstory to redeem him, he's not likeable at all. I mean, you can say that he has ambition and he gets s*it done, but still, damn him, and his voice actor, UGH.

Despite some minor thingies, the relationship between the characters is gold. Jack and Ridley are cute and make me wanna draw the meme of NOW KISS every two seconds. Jack and Ganz are companion goals. Ganz and his father – I loved that they kept their interactions personal and off screen. Idk why, but this story is about Jack, and yes, I care for Ganz as well, but his trouble with his father was his own, not Jack's, so I guess this is a director's decision which I'm 100% behind.

The plot can get predictable at times, but there's also a healthy amount of plot twists that made my jaw drop in a few occasions. I mean, I guessed who the bad guy was since the beginning, but let's face it, it's pretty obvious and the game doesn't hide it. There are other things that made the plot unfold worth my time, like trying to recruit that awesome character, or like what is the deal with Jack's late father, or what the hell is going on with Ganz, and what will happen to the city now that I'm on the Non-Human side? And the game answers them all (I read that the manga answers even more questions, so treat yourself).

All in all, RS is a vast jrpg experience, with high replay value and tons of things to explore. The world seems small, but it isn't. There's always a reward for those who wander off. For a ps2 title, this game is giant. And in the good sense. I thought I had seen the pinnacle of the ps2 era with Final Fantasy XII, but I'm highly considering changing my view on that one.

The endings are bittersweet in both paths. There's not a complete happy ending, I warn you. Things get darker towards the end, and the story knows how to subvert expectations in the good way. Remember Jack saying he wanted to be the hero like in a shonen anime? Well, not happening in this game guys. At the end of the day, this isn't a shonen story: this is a Radiata Story (roll credits), and like in every country's history, sometimes blood must be shed for events to take place and situations to unfold.

I am beyond pleased with this game. I'm considering playing through the Human side now – but first I need to recover myself from this Non-Human ending. I'm not ready to face more tragedy yet.

Go play it. Just do it. You won't regret it.

And pray that Tri-Ace develops ONE DAY a decent sequel.

#radiata stories #tri ace #jack russell #ganz rothschild #ridley silverlake #square enix #videogame #videogame review #review #ps2 #valkyrie profile

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dorkyungsoowrites · 5 years ago

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Alight & Alone

Pairings: Jongdae x ???

Genre: Thriller/Angst/Fluff | Fantasy AU

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4k

Description: A traveler comes to rest at an abandoned town, and his desire to learn its history lead him to where legends lie.

A/N: Requested by Anon Crystal. I am...so sorry, but also not. Hope you enjoy.

There are several types of dragons. The standards like fire and ice that horde treasure and live on mountains or in caves. Terrorizing those that come near them. The lesser known without wings like earth that have scales of bark and help the forests flourish, or water that swallow and spit out the tides. Ones with four wings and three heads. Dragons with feathers instead of scales that are not much different from parrots in the jungle. There are even celestial dragons. Ancient and made of the stars themselves. Resting in their nest of galaxies.

Then there are a few not many are privy to. Dragons only in legend. Never confirmed by the eyes of man or elf. Whispered about to children in foothill villages to deter them from going too deep in the mountains. Beasts that skulk in shadow. Some of the stories even going so far as to say they are the shadows. Light the chief protector to wanderers.

They were only stories to Jongdae. Fear mongering to get children to behave. So when he came to an abandoned town set into the base of a mountain on his journeys, he decided it was the perfect place to camp. Carved in stone with gilded towers and marble inlaid streets. He wrote notes on the architecture as he strolled further in. That's what he did. He was a historian, of sorts. Recording the world as it is for future generations. Court scholars only record the city's goings on. He wanted to know more. How did the town by the marshlands farm? Who repairs the trade routes? Do villagers in the North even speak the same dialect, or because they're intermingled with the elves and satyrs more do they see the language in the city as the trade tongue? What folklore would he hear in each region? It all fascinated Jongdae. So he kept his books and quill on him at all times in a satchel. Ready to write and sketch crude drawings of each new place.

That town he camped at was new. Unfinished. Piles of chiseled stone sitting by halves of homes and stairs that lead to nowhere. It wasn't on any maps, and it made him reflect on the conversation he had with a woman in the hills East of the mountain. She had pointed at this exact area and spoke a tongue he did not know. He had guessed she was leading him to the next village, but as he approached the gate at the mouth of the mountain he thought maybe it was a warning. At the very least the items in front of the enormous carved stone were a sign. A berm of ashes and chunks of charred logs up to his knees. With the wind the pile should have been whipped away years ago. And three entire tree trunks pinching the doorway and ground. A barricade.

The scent of sage caught his senses. To the right stood an effigy staked into the ground blackened by soot of a tall figure wreathed in strings of herbs and flowers. A bundle of sage still smoked at its feet.

Jongdae sat on a nearby boulder and sketched the sight. It was curious, and so he decided to explore further. Looking for a smaller entrance. One they would have made for emergencies where the main gate wasn't an option like a fire. Around a jagged bend was what he was searching for, though blocked by rocks. The place above seemed intact. It wasn't a collapse. He could have missed the unassuming door all-together if he hadn't been seeking it out in daylight. So he moved the rocks. Tossing them aside onto the intermingled grass and stone until he could force it open. The wooden door giving way to the inside of the mountain. Heavier than it appeared. Jongdae grunted with effort, and the hinges howled in protest. Echoing down the tunnel.

Before stepping through he waited to catch his breath. Staring into the long void of darkness. A curtain of black hung on the doorway, impervious to sunlight. Air thick and heavy and stale. So Jongdae cupped his palms and raised them close to his face. Whispering magic into being. A wisp of a glowing orb to light his way. Blue-ish in hue, and once Jongdae opened his hands, it hovered just above his height over his shoulder. Then he walked into the mountain.

Daylight abandoned his sight. The friendly iridescence he conjured guiding his footsteps. His nose rankled at the scent of something rotting. The kind of foulness that settled rancid on the tongue. Lips curled down in disgust. Glancing around, his eyes widened in horror.

There was a corpse behind the door. It appeared tall enough to be human or elven. Jongdae had jammed and crushed the decaying body by opening the door. The flesh sliding off the bones without muscle or tissue to bind it. The white of the jaw and cheek showing through the tears in its face. The clothes and hair gave him a better idea of what it was. Though dirtied, the robes used to be green and silver. An embroidered emblem of an arch made of a tree on their breast. Precious metal chains and rings adorned their neck and hands with no jewels, and their auburn hair hung to their knees. The mark of a highborn in elvish society. The more extravagant their hair and hairstyle, the higher they were. The corpse was someone from a noble elvish house. Drooping, discolored, mangled...but not alone. Two other smaller bodies were tangled on the tunnel wall beside the first with the same emblem on their sleeves. As if all three had been huddled together before Jongdae opened the door. Suffered and starved and scared in the dark.

The traveler swallowed the lump in his throat and moved further in. Following the curves of the tunnel until he came to a wall. It could have been mistaken for a dead end if it weren't for the seam in the stone. He pushed it open and came into the main hall. The height of the ceiling and general expanse of the room he couldn't measure in the dark, but when he took a step it echoed rather well. He took a more relaxed breath in the enormous space until something fetid balled in the back of his mouth. The air was still and soaked in decay. Not as strong as the cramped tunnel, but sitting like a fog near the ground. Jongdae turned left and muttered to the orb. Cajoling it to be brighter.

More bodies were strewn about near the main gate. Leaning on pillars with their throats slit to the bone or run through with a sword in a dried pool of blood. Near a dozen that he could see. None in armor, but all armed. Jongdae wandered the area. Searching overturned carts of marble, and behind a huge boulder only partially carved into a head for a statue, and further in to other rooms. Cart tracks leading to each one where tables lined the walls with tools for inspecting the quality of gems and minerals. Empty carts in all except one that was partially filled with gold coins. The longer Jongdae stayed, however, the more he looked over his shoulder. Watching for moving shadows. The heat of eyes on his back crawling up his neck and forming beads of sweat. His hands shaking as he left the corridor of inspection rooms and followed cart tracks to a mine shaft. Tugging on the laces at the top of his shirt.

A ramp lead his footsteps around the circumference of the large quarry. Taking him deeper underground. He avoided looking over the roped railing. Afraid the blackened chasm would swallow him whole and break his neck, but exploring all the same.

After every other full rotation there was a level dug outward with columns for support. The first was more inspection areas with carts of coins. Jongdae skimmed his fingers over one of the piles with a curious look before continuing. The second was nothing but blacksmithing stations. The third down had various tools and saws for cutting. Jongdae didn't linger in that one for very long. Most of the equipment was broken, and he spooked himself by kicking a pebble over the edge of the ramp where he couldn't hear it hit the bottom. Instead he heard stone scraping stone overhead. Jongdae shook his head. Perhaps his disturbing things made a pile fall down somewhere. There was nothing to be frightened of. But he still clung to the walls. His ears still perked. The silence of the abandoned mines impressed upon him. Surrounding him with absolute and complete nothing.

The next two levels were the largest, and had all the smelters inside. Afterward it was just the ramp and uneven walls from where the previous inhabitants mined. Jongdae considered going back to the surface until he saw another small rock at his feet. He decided if he threw it down the center of the shaft and heard it clunk to the bottom he would explore, because that meant he was near to finding the missing pieces of this mysterious town, but if he didn't then it would wait until morning. He peeked over the railing, white-knuckling the rope, and felt his heart leap into his throat.

There was a soft white glow coming from deep in the ground. Just two levels away. Had some survived the skirmish up top? Was this their discovery? Was it natural or magical?

Jongdae, reinvigorated by the possibilities, practically sprinted down the ramp. He jerked to a halt at the end. Splitting off the side was a cave, but the entrance was blocked. A magical ward shimmered and distorted his vision through to the other side. He quickly raised his hands to it and felt for the energy. Making him shudder. The trap was to shock any who touched it with lightning. So Jongdae pulled out his waterskin, mumbled an incantation, and splashed the barrier. It jolted, rippled and flashed, the entrance seemingly warping in and singeing the air before bursting all at once. A few darting sparks over his toes the only remnant until those faded as well. Leaving Jongdae a path inside.

What he found left him speechless. Simply trying to take in the splendor of the gorgeous area. The cave was twice his height, with crystals large and small jutting from the walls, and hanging from the ceiling. Even around a small natural spring to the far right. Clear, or some slightly frosted over. The light from Jongdae's floating orb bounced, reflected, and refracted off almost every surface. Coloring the cave in a wonder of rainbows and stars. Shining on him like he had the finest linens tailors could only dream of making without magic. It was almost blinding. He smiled, looked at the pieces of galaxies on the back of his hand, and laughed. Until he caught sight of something.

A flash of a reflection in a larger crystal. The elven noble from the emergency exit. Flesh dripping off their face, dagger gleaming in the light. Limping its way closer as if to slice his throat open like some of the other corpses. Jongdae's heart skipped, and he gasped. Whipping around to see nothing but the cave entrance. Backing further inside its bright, jagged walls. His blood raced on edge through his veins. Glancing over each shoulder.

Then there was the scratch. Like talons on stone. Slicing through the air and scoring his heart. Then the rumble. Like a growl that hasn't left the base of the throat yet. He wiped his face with his sleeve.

Then his vision morphed the mound of crystals by the spring. It sighed and rose. Unfurling like loosely coiled ribbon. Revealing a stretched tail and an elongated neck with a head. The creatures flesh under the crystals like stained glass. Its eyes found his person straight away. The prismatic irises color was being drawn into the slatted pupils, and it mesmerized the traveler. Paralyzing his feet on the spot.

He clamped his eyes shut tight and opened them again, but the creature was still there. It was closer, in fact. Wings folded tightly to its body. Claws scratching the ground. Head low. So Jongdae did what any level-headed scholar would do when confronted with a dragon.

"Uh...um...hello?" His voice trembled fiercely.

The spines on the creature's head flared and flattened. Tossing the light around and striking his eyes. Making him wince and glance down. There was a particular patch of purple from the base of its neck that gleamed on the floor of the cave. It crept closer to his feet like the setting sun through a window.

"It-it's marvelous to...make your...acquai-acquaintance," he bumbled. "Ha-have you always lived in this splendorous place?" He waited a few shallow breaths. "People call me Jongdae; history keeper an-and wandering wizard. Sort of. How shall I address you?"

The rumbling ceased, and its head raised. "Why do you keep the histories? Should they not be shared?"

The voice that had spoken surprised Jongdae. It was quiet and feathered. Not deep and ferocious like other dragons. A bit jilted as well. Not the cadence of a natural trade speaker.

"I...intend to share them," he replied slowly. "But I must finish recording them first."

The creature dipped and slunk around Jongdae. Startling him. Circling, curling around and looming over his form. Compressing him into a tiny space to avoid any sharp pricks from the edges of the crystals. The air turned thick in his lungs. Pressuring him to appease.

"Do you steal these histories, Keeper?"

"One can-" He cleared his throat. "One cannot steal what is freely shared."

"So you are not a thief."

"Of course not."

"Where else has your wandering brought you?"

"Well...I came from the royal city in the South, and went fairly straight North until now. Following the Western coast for the most part."

"A far journey."

"Yes...I suppose..."

It circled him once more. Eyes piercing and overwhelming. Then its tail flicked at his hair. Causing it to bounce and stick out.

"I apologize," Jongdae began. "But, I still do not know your name, and I feel it impolite to call you by anything else."

"Call me whatever you wish though I may refuse to answer the same for I have no moniker. Or it was granted at a time too lost and I have forgotten it. Your Keeping would have served very well then."

"Indeed, I suppose it might have..." he answered, unsure.

"You will show it to me."

"What?"

"The records of your keeping."

"We-well they are very dear to me, and I...I fear your fire, or whatever the case may be, could turn my life's work to ash."

"It is my shape that fails to assuage your trepidation? Well, I suppose I can't very well grasp a book with talons." The creature unwound away from him, and began to glow from within. Rays of light shooting out, glinting, glimmering, until it was nothing but a blinding blur, and Jongdae shut his eyes. When they re-opened there was a woman in front of him. Or, the shape of a warrior woman. Muscular and tall. Its skin was still as colored glass not unlike the crystals surround if they were polished. And instead of flowing hair there was a soft white light that floated behind her--their--shoulders like water. The angles of their face cut like the finest, most precious jewels. A refined and elegant ethereal creature. He was captivated.

"How did you...how have I not heard tales of such a wonderful being?"

"Perhaps you have but cannot recognize it," they replied. "I may take endless forms in this space as well as in the minds of men."

Jongdae's features sank. "The effigy outside."

"Indeed," they nodded and stepped closer. "Another baseless monster. I am not so malicious as others would claim, but the village insists I'm an evil spirit or beast summoned only to torment, and steep the world in chaos if I were let free."

Jongdae hadn't realized how close they had come until their hands were on the strap of his satchel. Lifting it up and off his body. He watched as they pulled out one of his two books and set the satchel on the ground. Opening its pages as they strolled to the wall.

A gentle smile formed their mouth. Fingers stroking down the parchment. Skimming over the ones without pictures. "It is no wonder your kind chose to copy important information in this way."

"My kind?"

"Surfacers."

"So you have always lived in this mountain? How can you speak? Know all these things? Was it the miners?"

The smiled dimmed. "Come. I will absolve your curiosities of the sinister sight above." They shut the tome and turned away.

Jongdae followed them further in to the wall opposite the spring. They went to their knees, and so he did the same. Sitting beside them and a large, clear crystal. They laid his book on the ground and put their hand up to the crystal. It came to life at their behest, and images shone under its surface. Blurred around the edges. First of the one beside Jongdae in that very same spot.

"I was born of the crystals in this cave," they spoke. "A sibling to light and earth, and it is the earth that speaks to me, and to every place else it lays. One and the same." The image shifted to the palace in the capital. "The crystals are the perfect meeting place. The light is the guide. It is timeless and formless until reflected. It bends and bares itself to those who know how to master it. And you can follow it backwards as well." The image shifted again to that of humans and elves hollowing out an entrance and building streets. Jumping through year after year of the mines above being built. "For ages too long for counting I watched the civilizations on the surface flourish. Learned their languages, their customs, their names. I saw their knowledge in these crystals...and yet I have never left the shelter of this mountain. When the miners came, I gave them small visions. Guiding them where to dig. I was so excited...soon I could see the world with my own eyes and talk to others with my own voice.

I gave them stone and marble, and gold. They only had to leave the crystals alone, but soon they found the vein leading to my home, and could not keep their true nature at bay." Their voice grew harder. Tensing against a quiver. Fingers grasping the side of the crystal. The images changed to that of the elven noble with crystals caged in their jewelry, and a scared creature in a cave. "They would have stripped my family away until they were nothing but broken fragments trapped in a chain around someone's neck. With each piece they stole from the ground I felt myself crack a little inside. So I replaced the visions of my home. Implanted the idea of a shadowy monster to frighten them away. I did not anticipate its effects on everyone in the town."

The visions changed to that of families leaving with their children. In-fighting between miners, arguments with the elvish nobility, workers growing restless and paranoid. The population dwindling. Until a faction went mad. Barricading the front gates, and piling the stones at the emergency door. Trapping the remaining people inside with what they believed was a monster.

Jongdae's eyes filled with tears. Tone shattering against the building waves of emotion. Raising his eyes to their face. "So lonely an existence...lonely then and even lonelier now. How did you stand it all those centuries?"

Their gaze emptied. The visions fading on the crystal. "One does not notice anything absent until there is hope of more."

The traveler reached out carefully, and slowly let his hand form to the back of theirs on the ground betwixt their bodies. Blood rushing in his veins. "I'm so sorry..."

Their skin was cool to the touch. His fingers still quivered. Without warning they twisted and wrapped him in an embrace. His tears dammed up in his shock. Taking in a larger breath and sighing. It should have been like running into a window, or figurine. They should have been delicate and firm. Instead what he felt was any other woman's flesh squish to his. Fingertips anchoring themselves on his back. A cool mist on his cheek.

Jongdae slipped his palms to their waist, and around to the spine. Pulling them closer. Smoothing up and down. Feeling the realness, and the chill, and the desire for companionship. His face flaming. And he shivered.

Their shoulders shook once then one hand loosened. Fingers plucking through Jongdae's hair before sinking deep. Buried to the root. Face in the crook of his neck, and they sat. For hours it felt like. Steeping in his new knowledge. Planning how to record it on parchment, and realizing over and over with a pained chest precisely how desperate this creatures life had been. His heart feeling heavier with every new thought of their isolation, and the irreparable damage those villagers caused. To live their entire life alone with only windowed visions for friends, and to give up that dream of freedom and adventure to protect themselves.

After a while passed Jongdae let up, and they released him in turn. Allowing them both to stand. Jongdae gathered his books in his satchel, and slung it over his shoulder.

"Come outside with me," he propositioned. "If the villagers could only meet you they would understand. We could all understand. I can write a letter to the palace petitioning for this area of crystals to be protected. They would be endangering your life otherwise. They would have to do it. People would never dare touch a forest of Nymphs, why not magical crystalline caves? If only they knew you were here."

They took a step away, hugging themselves and shaking their head. "No," they refused softly. "No, the villagers would never forgive me. I would be dead on the spot. I cannot leave. There would be no one to speak for the histories. To protect them."

"Only one hour in the sun then. To begin. We won't even leave the base of the mountain. I want to show you all the things you had wished for gazing into those visions. Don't you long to feel the sun on your face? The grass beneath your feet? What about sailing? I'll take you sailing. We can journey the world together."

"...together?"

"Yes, oh there's so many places I want to take you. The amethyst waterfalls, the hanging roads, the upside-down city. It must be well into the night by now. I already set up camp. I'll rest outside and come back in the morning. It's a big step, but the first is the hardest, and you'll have me to help, a little at a time."

"You will..." they whispered. "You'll stay with me? Like this?"

Jongdae grinned warmly. "I will return come daylight. I promise."

They hesitated, but dipped their head to acknowledge his words. With that new hope planted, Jongdae made it up the spiraling ramp into the main hall. The end of his sleeve wet with perspiration where he had been dabbing his face. The orb he conjured still drifting above him. He searched for the tunnel he came in through. Running along the wall in the dim dark. Palms pressed to the stone. The gap he left in the doorway had not showed itself, and his hands felt no seams or abnormally smooth cracks.

The reek had not weakened either. Cycling in his nostrils. As time crept on, Jongdae's heart picked up pace. Mind sprinting, tripping and doubling over on itself. Eyes darting, squinting. Pacing every wall in case he tried the wrong one. Then he returned to where his memory lead. Fingers splayed on the mountain. His shallow breaths concentrated in his ears. Panting, pushing for an exit. The giant main gate to his right, an ugly silence to his left, and behind him...a light glinted.

#Jongdae #jongdae fanfic #exowritersnet #chen fic #exo scenarios #exo scenario #exo fanfiction #jongdae x oc #fantasy!au #thriller #angst #fluff

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thescribesloft · 6 years ago

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Jeweler’s Hands Excerpt: Stormheight

@ps-nippets, @shamelesslypoetic, @quilloftheclouds, @alinakerrin, @thelimeonade

Beryl raised her hand and for the first time, Obsidian noticed she was wearing gloves made of soft cloth beads. She reached her hand up and pressed her palm against a series of plates in the solid, black and red gate. She traced a line in the stone and Obsidian saw the outline of a circle light up up in the waning light, the electric charge used to deter unwanted visitors deactivated. Before it faded, he caught a glimpse of what the circle really was; A Dragon.

Skeletal, the Dragon formed a circle with its own body, devouring its own bony tail. Each rib in the circle was perfectly symmetrical, the bones neatly tucked in among each other like ivory beads on a bracelet.

Obsidian watched as the gate swung open with a deep crumbling sound, the creak of rock grinding in his ears. The Dragon split directly down the center as the gate opened into separate doors.

Beryl swung back up into the saddle and quickly guided her mount through the gate. Obsidian, caught by surprise, clutched the animal's mane in his fingers as he was lurched forward.

Before his lay a barren valley surrounded on all sides by the sanguinite walls, caging in the cool lava fields in a deadly embrace.

In the center of it all, perched atop a huge chunk of rock amid a sea of ever-heated magma sat Stormbreach's capitol. The ultimate fortress, impenetrable within its nest of dragon flame. A grand, ironically wooden bridge interlaced with stone arced across the chasm, resolute and unwavering, the rails made of solid black and red iron. Dark green and blood red pennants embossed with the skeletal Dragon fluttered from tall posts at both ends of the bridge, ragged in the stale, overheated air.

The palace of Stormheight loomed up ahead, imposing and and dark, with its terraced roofs and terracotta shingling. There was something inexplicably ancient about the edifice, as if it had been pulled straight from a storybook by the hands of some forgotten giant and dropped in their midst without another thought. More of the megaliths of heliotrope were erected beside the palace, badly mimicking trees, the branches square and awkward, bits of mottled stone crumbling upward in an attempt to imitate the leaves of lifeforms that wouldn't dare grow there. More Dragon-lions crouched at every corner, in various stages of snarling and biting, teeth and claws perfectly carved to instill fear in the observer. They contrasted with the charred wood and singed paper of the palace walls. Scenes depicted Dragons in all their glory, fighting ancient battles and advising mankind decorated the porous paper walls in bright colors,despite their dark surroundings, as if the whole place didn't even belong in that lava-filled hole. Everything was rough and charred as if it had endured the rage of an angry Dragon, but maintained much of its precision and geometry, giving it severely dangerous look.

Huddled around the palace in a thick cluster like a clutch of young hatchlings was the village of Stormheight. Each small building easily more grand than Colorsfall or Silvercling; everything charred and burnt, but not rundown and fading. Even the smallest home was engraved and inlaid with precious metals. Rather than crystals and colorful gems and stones cascading down the roofs of Colorsfall in perfect strands of radiant, prismatic hues or drops of moonlight that grew from the ground into vines of pure silk like a soul poured out of a celestial vase in the gardens of Silvercling, the village of Stormheight was washed by the blood of the mountain and the coal-black bones of some ancient Dragon.

They picked their way across strange, glossy flat lands, hooves clopping the surface like glass. Obsidian found himself gazing at his own reflection mirrored back at him within his namesake. Entire fields of obsidian spanned the valley for miles, shimmering resplendently, just as mysterious as the boy named after it. Every so often they passed by small steaming pits that spewed forth boiling, foul-smelling water. The earth puckered and heaved, belching toxicity as if it was ill and badly needed care. Yellow clouds blanketed the ground, choking any life that had even attempted to show its face there.

They halted at the end of the bridge, the pennants flapping in a sudden breeze. The sentinel were here as well, sitting obediently, watching. Beryl once again dropped from the saddle and approached the bridge.

Almost immediately, the head of one of the sentinels turned toward her with a grinding, crunching sound, it's eyes darting. It watched Beryl with imitated life, animated by something unseen and, to Obsidian, unknown. It moved like an animal, but its movements were stiff and jolting, as if it was frozen in an everlasting shell. It jerked its stony eyes toward Obsidian and he saw no soul within its depths, only the emptiness of carved stone. It leaped fluidly from its pedestal and stalked toward him with sudden animistic hunger, as if his presence had brought it to life somehow and, though it was still clearly stone, it behaved like a real animal, muscles rippling as it zeroed in on the boy, completely ignoring the horse he sat astride. The veins in the suddenly alive stone crawling across its ugly face like ripples in a silent pond.

Beryl spoke to it then, stepping in the creature's path, the language foreign and yet familiar. She spoke with care, choosing words that seemed almost as if she were speaking backward. The Dragon-lion ceased its predatory movement and cocked its head, listening. Eventually, it gave the animal equivalent of a nod and retreated back to its position and Beryl returned to Obsidian. She slipped into the saddle once again and urged the horse forward yet again, this time toward Stormheight.

People stopped to stare as the pair clopped through Stormheight's village. The streets were squeaky clean, except for various clumps of coal cast aesthetically about in artful heaps. Soot lined the cracks of the perfectly spaced cobbles, making the road look like a two lane chessboard. Suddenly the earth rumbled and Obsidian instinctively glanced at the ground should he need to flee the back of his mount. He gasped as the cracks between the stones pulsed red hot. He stared at the road, baffled that the villagers simply kept walking as the road continued to flash and black as if nothing had happened.

The villagers themselves ambled about in leather, velvet and silk of varying dark shades, most notably cream, forest green, burgundy, and black. Not a single strip of cloth was frayed or torn, but the clothes had a distinct, fashionably charred look. Here, jewel-colored hair was also the norm, but piled in more elaborate designs; braids spun into towering spirals held firm by charred chopsticks, some still smoking, having been recently pulled from the flame. No one seemed to mind the heat or the ash-filled air, in fact it seemed to invigorate everyone. Pendents carved from chunks of hardened coal, obsidian, pumice, and other volcanic substances graced heaving breasts, contrasting pale collar bones.

Here the dress code was less restrictive for males but still attractive. Creme-colored silk shirts browned from fire around the edges seemed to be the favorite fashion of choice, usually unbuttoned with the buttons gleaming in the dim sun. Multitudes of volcanic glasses hung around their slender necks in sharp, jagged claws. In Colorsfall, the trend of jewels surgically installed within the skin was only just becoming popular. In Stormheight, it was top fashion. Stones of every size, color, and shape grew from translucent skin like bubbles in newly boiled water. Women preferred reasons to expose as much skin as possible, so stones embedded along the back, shoulders, hips, and thighs were routinely requested. For males, intricate designs clustered on the chest, brow, or along the arms were more pleasing. Some individuals went so far as to embed entire pieces of jewelry into their skin, working twine, leather and even wire within their bodies.

A young woman approached them, beautiful with strands of still-smoking coal turned white nestled within the tiers of her voluminous hair. She bowed as she came close, standing a respectful distance from the horse. Beryl nodded her consent, but kept a protective arm around the boy.

Obsidian watched the woman stare at him. She admired him unabashedly, her eyes roving his bare chest, messy ebony hair, and chalky pallor. She gasped as her eyes met his and she leaped forward, forgetting social boundaries.

“Wow! Those are some gorgeous slits!”, she gestured at his eyes. “What kind of plates do you use?” She reached toward them, but Beryl intercepted her, smacking the offending hand away with a crack. The woman yelped and stepped back and Beryl kicked her mount. They left her in a cloud of soot.

#Jeweler's Hands #fantasy #dragons #Stormheight #lava #scary castles #jewelry #gems #jewels #rocks #stones #sorry for the bad grammar and spelling!

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feelieking · 6 years ago

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Season 11

Season 11 of the modern Doctor Who has now wound up, and I’ve been trying to collate my thoughts about it. (Not to mention actually making myself write them down – gods, I hate the process of typing things up!) It’s been an odd beast – pretty much any other season, I could tell you what I loved and what I hated, but I don’t think I loved or hated anything here. Bear in mind that this post will have spoilers for the entire series and the New Year special.

First thing’s first – Jodie Whittaker was a controversial casting choice (although I feel that a lot of the controversy was manufactured.) She’s fantastic – right from the moment she falls through the train roof, she *is* the Doctor.

The three companions are all great but, as many other commentators have said, there are too many; character development – especially that of Yas – has really suffered. Compare with season 10, when the first three episodes focussed hugely on Bill. By the end, it really felt like we knew her. (And as an aside, with no disrespect intended towards the current cast, how amazing would a series starring Jodie Whittaker and Pearl Mackie have been?) While Graham, Ryan or Yas never spent a whole story locked in the TARDIS doing a science experiment, it still feels like we know them a lot less as people.

Possibly the most successful of the three companions has been Graham, whom we’ve seen dealing with the death of his wife and trying to build a relationship with his step-grandson. A lot of commentators were sceptical about the casting of Bradley Walsh, but he has turned in a subtle a nuanced performance. Ryan’s main character hook was his dyspraxia which, after the first episode, barely seemed to feature – a dyspraxic friend of mine has commented that he’s still waiting to see Ryan fall up the stairs. Yas… has a frustrating family and wants more out of life. That’s about as much as I can think of to say. It’s a shame, because all three actors are fab – although it feels sadly ironic that, of the four main companion figures in the first episode, the most intriguing and well developed is the one who falls to her death.

Visually, this series has looked gorgeous. The cinematography is beautiful, especially the overseas location filming. But most episodes have barely any guest characters, which oddly makes them feel empty and cheap. Occasionally the lack of guest cast suits the tone of the episode – the Ghost Monument being the prime example – but oftentimes things feel pretty barren. One visual element which I do feel disappointed by is the new TARDIS set – there are lots of fantastic ideas there, but over all it’s just not doing it for me. The previous set, more than any other, felt like a space where people actually lived; this feels far emptier and, while there are lots of great individual elements on the console, the big chunk of “crystal” in the middle looks cheap and nasty.

On the plus side, I love the new title sequence and theme tune. The incidental music has been excellent as well, in spite of fears from some corners of twitter that there was some how an inverse relationship between melanin and musical ability(!) Murray Gold was extremely talented and wrote some truly magnificent pieces, but sometimes his incidental music got too bombastic and intrusive. Segun Akinola has been a real breath of fresh air.

As for the episodes themselves, the ones set in the past have tended to be the best. The Withfinders was my favourite episode of the season, with a strong plot, proper emotion, and some meaty guest roles. It was let down by the last ten minutes, where everything suddenly got really schlocky, which was a shame; it would have been nice if the fantastical elements of the script could have been given the same degree of care as the human elements.

Rosa presented us with someone trying to subvert the course of history, and our heroes having to keep it on track, something that I don’t really think the series has done since the Meddling Monk stories back in the 60s. It was a novel approach that worked really well. Some commentators have said that the episode was too heavy handed with its anti-racism message, but I’m not convinced that “racism is bad” is a topic that either could or should be approached with much of a degree of subtlety.

Demons of the Punjab was a beautiful episode, filled with emotion that could have easily been mawkish, but never was. I feel it could have been made even better, however, if they’d been brave enough to do it as a pure historical, without any alien or sci-fi elements.

The modern day and futuristic episodes were a mixed bag. The first two were probably the most successful, focussing on the Doctor and her companions and running them through the gauntlet. Arachnids in the UK started off well, but fizzled out towards the end, and I don’t remotely buy the idea that slowly starving to death is a “humane” end. I enjoyed Kerblam! and It Takes You Away a lot – the latter succeeded for me with its lovely moments between Graham and Grace, but suffered by abandoning its eerie haunted house plot and style a bit too early.

The season finale was… underwhelming. The Doctor saving the day with technobabble and throwing lots of levers in the TARDIS is always going to be disappointing, and Tim Shaw, despite having a really great voice, is a mediocre villain at best. One of the big failings of this series that that there hasn’t been a really strong villain or monster for the Doctor t play against; the alien threats have either been schlocky, generic (hello Sniperbots), forgettable, or not a threat in the first place. The return of the Dalek on New Year’s Day felt like a real step in the right direction in that regard (I loved the junkyard casing) but that was undercut by, again, too much of the episode involving the Doctor throwing levers in the TARDIS to sort things out, and the inexplicable deus ex microwave.

Overall, the word I’d use to describe this season is mediocre – nothing sang, and nothing stank. For me, Season 10 was the strongest series of modern Who by a country mile, so Season 11 had a tough job to follow it up. There’s clearly a lot of potential here and, again, Jodie and the cast are superb, so I really hope that that potential is properly seized up for Season 12.

#writings #doctor who

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darkwing-katy · 8 years ago

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Second Chance - Part Five

Heeeeeeeey everyone. How’s it going? I’m sorry this took longer than usual for this update, but to make up for it, this is like...a loooong chunk. I will always try to update on Sunday, but sometimes it might take an extra week if I have too much going on. Thank you to everyone who has reblogged, commented, or messaged me about how much they love this fic or asking to be included in the tags! You all make me so happy, and I’m so grateful to have such awesome readers! As usual, special thanks to @sannvers for editing!

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 10,486 (holy crapoli!)

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress offers you a second chance to save him.

Tagging: @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @hobbithorse19 @leah5684 @princessbelgoof @captainskyline @theoncergames @geeky-girl-394 @were-allstoriesinthe-end084 @brooke-supernatural16 @certainasthesvn @jordyhaley @superlokidwholock @smilesnjh @prongspower @bitchingqueenoferebor @scarletdarkholme @hemmingbaes @bae-kage @areuslow @lovelylpevensie @uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @moonbeams-and-pie @17gnomes-in-a-trenchcoat @superwholockedrosx @panda-reads-stuff @ultimatetrashlord @elenawrit @the7thsilence @blackxthexbeast @rainwing-galaxy @arkhamsnight @imoyu-trashblog @martapetrovic @ciaprincess @juggernaut-jones @admerxin13 @fangirlx26 @epicfallenismine @izzymaria1994 @loveablelulu13

Previous Chapter

The next morning saw you laying on your bed, staring at the canopy and cradling your bruised knuckles. Someone rapped at your door, drawing your eyes to it briefly, but you returned your gaze to the lavender curtain above you. “(Y/N)? Are you awake?” It was Belle. Of course it would be her. You were surprised she’d actually waited until morning to come to you.

You ignored her. You didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

The knocking persisted. “Are you awake? You’re usually up by now.”

You allowed your gaze to wander to the gold pillars supporting the canopy.

“I’m coming in, whether you’re awake or not!”

Sure enough, you saw the door open out of the corner of your eye. You acted as if you didn’t notice Belle enter the room and close the door behind her. You remained staring at the golden pillars until she sat down on the bed next to you and cleared her throat.

“(Y/N)?” she asked tentatively.

You sighed, sensing no point in continuing to ignore her. “What?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What happened last night?”

Straight to the point, as usual. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied.

She scoffed. “Don’t you lie to me, (Y/N). I haven’t seen you that mad since…well…ever.” Her brown eyes flicked to your hand. “What happened to your hand?”

“Nothing.”

She reached for it. You tried to pull it away, but she was too fast. You hissed in pain as her fingers grazed against your knuckles. “What. Happened?” Belle repeated, more firmly.

You tugged your hand out of her grasp and stared at it. “I punched him,” you muttered.

“Gaston?”

Well, I guess it’s not like I’d punch anyone else. “Yeah, Gaston,” you replied, spitting out his name.

“Why?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why? Do I need a reason?” Belle said nothing, so you continued. “I punched him because he’s a narcissistic jerk with a hero complex who manipulated his best friend into a terrible situation and then abandoned him. And then he had the gall to say that he would’ve been fine if I hadn’t ‘barreled into him’—which is what saved his arrogant ass—and that he was ‘too pretty to die’ and I just lost it, Belle. I lost it.” You felt your anger resurfacing as you spoke. “I thought he’d change! He’s been in a cell for a few days now; surely he must realize that it’s his attitude that landed him there! And yesterday, earlier, he was asking about LeFou and I thought, ‘He’s actually showing concern for someone else. He’s changing.’ But that was before I talked to LeFou and found out that Gaston was just using him as an ego boost!”

You stopped, suddenly realizing you’d almost been shouting. Belle sat there patiently, waiting for you to finish your rant. When you gave no indication of continuing, she put a hand on your arm.

“Are you mad at him, or are you mad at yourself?” she asked quietly.

You blinked stupidly at her. “What?” you asked, confused.

“You’ve always known he’s arrogant. You’ve always known he’s selfish.” She dropped her hand and scooted to the foot of the bed, where she faced you directly. “Did you really think that he would change so easily?”

You stared at her. She has a point, you know, the little voice in your head whispered. People don’t change that drastically in 48 hours.

“No,” you mumbled, “I guess not.”

“So then who are you really mad at—him for acting the same as he always has, or yourself for thinking he’d suddenly become a better man?”

“Why do you have to know me so well?” you muttered, a little annoyed.

She smiled gently. “Change takes time and effort and willingness. You can’t change anyone; they can only change themselves if they are willing. That doesn’t mean you can’t encourage them, though.”

“I know.” You also knew that was only a part of why you were so upset with yourself. She was right about you making assumptions based on your own hopes, but you were also upset because despite all of the horrible things LeFou’d revealed to you, you still loved Gaston. Not for one moment last night had you ever wished you hadn’t saved him, not when you’d yelled at him, not when you’d punched him, not even when you’d cried yourself to sleep. And that scared you. How could anyone love a man like that?

With a groan, you flopped down onto the pillows. “I don’t want to see him today,” you whined. “But I didn’t give him any dinner so he’s probably starving.” Good, the voice hissed. Let him starve a little.

“I’ll bring him some food a little later,” Belle said.

You lifted your head to look at her. “No, you don’t have to,” you protested.

“I know. But you’ve helped me with him for a long time. It’s only fair that I return the favor.” She jumped off the bed as you opened your mouth to argue against her, effectively cutting you off. “Besides, I’ve been meaning to speak to him.”

“Belle, you don’t ha—”

“I’m well aware, (Y/N). I’m still going to.” She smiled at you. “I can handle him for one day.”

“Can you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Your faith in me is so inspiring.” She made her way to the door. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m pretty sure the last time you said that, you managed to disappear for a week,” you called after her. You heard her laugh as she exited and left you alone once more.

Her words had helped you to feel a little better. You sat up and stretched. Your hand stung, but there was nothing you could do about it. “He deserved it,” you told your hand. With a deep sigh, you got up and began to get ready for the day. When your hair was sufficiently braided and you’d gotten your light green dress on, you headed to the dining area. Everyone else had already eaten, so you merely grabbed a handful of grapes from a fruit bowl and started popping them into your mouth. You weren’t quite that hungry yet, although you were sure your appetite would return come lunchtime.

Well, what now?

But you knew where you wanted to go today. You grabbed an apple and dropped it into a pocket that you’d sewn to the dress.

Today you wanted to sit in the ballroom.

You found it easily—you were slowly getting used to the vast size of the castle (although there were many rooms you hadn’t seen since Belle had shown you). Once again, you were struck speechless at the sight of the grand room. The floors were made of polished marble with gold patterns, with a monogrammed WD in the center. The walls were also white with gold, and there were multiple giant chandeliers made of gold and decorated with crystals that shimmered in the sunlight that streamed in through the tall window on the opposite side. You stepped into the room, your footsteps echoing on the floor, but instead of walking to the center, you went up to the wall on your left and studied it. Your hand found a gold accent that you traced over, and you simply walked around the room in that manner, examining the details of the walls.

When you’d gotten closer to the piano, you finally stepped down and went to it. You couldn’t play, but you could still admire the ivory keys. The body itself was a pale blue, with (of course) the gold accents you were beginning to associate with Adam’s home. As you admired it, you realized it was not, in fact, a piano, but rather a harpsichord. You laughed at yourself as you realized this—how stupid were you?

You moved on towards the window, seeing that it went out onto a small balcony. You pulled the double doors open, allowing fresh air to stream into the room, and stepped out. The balcony led to the castle grounds, but you had no desire to go there. You just wanted to drink in the sight.

You lost track of time, though it couldn’t have been too long before you heard a tittering voice and footsteps. “Oh, Maestro, it is just so divine to be back in here!” a heavily accented female voice sang happily.

“Mi amore, we were in here yesterday,” a male voice, equally accented, replied, though you could hear the humor in his tone.

“Si, si, I know. But after so long stuck in the East Wing—oh, I don’t think I could ever tire of this room. So many memories—,”

“All the songs, the balls—”

“Us, making beautiful music together as meant to be—,”

“The dancing!” You heard a girlish squeal along with in-sync footsteps, and the two voice laughed. You turned around to see a gorgeous dark-skinned woman in a huge lavender-and-white gown. Her white wig was piled high atop her head, and you wondered how she could spin around so easily with the weight of it. Spinning her was a man in a light blue coat and ruffled shirt. His wig was blonde rather than white, and while a small chunk in the back was pulled into a slight ponytail, the majority of it was poofing out every which way.

“Oh, Maestro!” the woman sang, her voice creating a delightful sound. He pulled her in close, and the two kissed passionately. You blushed, embarrassed at intruding on their moment.

“Oh, but I can smell fresh air—the window must be open!” the woman said as they pulled apart. They both turned towards the window…and you. “Oh! Hello!”

You gave a weak wave. “Bonjour,” you replied, even more embarrassed now that they’d seen you.

“I’ve seen your face around the castle—you must be Belle’s friend,” she chirped, giving a small curtsy. The man—the Maestro—gave a slight bow as well.

“Yes. I’m (Y/N).” You gave a returning curtsy, unsure of the proper response.

“I am Madame de Garderobe!” the woman trilled, rolling her ‘r’s heavily. You were pretty sure they were both Italian. “And this is my life partner, mio tesoro, the Maestro Cadenza!” When she introduced him, they both gave each other an adoring look.

“Cara, non posso vivere senza di te,” Maestro Cadenza wrapped his arms around Madame de Garderobe and pulled her close. “My soul mate, my divine diva.”

You couldn’t help gawking at their obvious show of affection towards one another. Your parents loved each other dearly, but they would never be quite that open about it. In fact, you’d never seen anyone that passionate in public. You felt a hint of awkwardness at the scene, but you also felt your heart warm at them. They love each other so much they can barely contain it, you realized. It was amazing to behold.

“What brings you here, (Y/N)?” Madame de Garderobe asked, still wrapped in Cadenza’s embrace.

“Oh, I, uhm, just love this room. I’d seen it before, but I wanted to take the time to really look at it, you know?” You rubbed your arm, hoping that they wouldn’t think you odd for saying such a thing.

“It is a beautiful room, is it not?” Cadenza nodded at the chandeliers. “Back before the curse, the Prince would throw balls almost every night, filled to the brim with the most beautiful of women—but none as beautiful as you, mi amore.”

“I’ve never been to a ball,” you admitted sheepishly.

Madame de Garderobe gasped. “What? Oh, you must attend one! We shall have to convince the Prince to throw a celebration ball so that you can experience the magic and the glamor of this room in its full splendor!”

You grinned at her. “That sounds amazing!”

Cadenza shook his head in agreement. “That is a wonderful idea, cara! You know what that means?” He spun her around once more and led her to the harpsichord.

Madame de Garderobe giggled. “Si—we must practice together!” She glanced back at you. “You are free to stay as long as you like. We don’t mind having a fresh set of ears to duet to!”

You laughed at her enthusiasm. “I’d be delighted to stay for a little bit. Is it alright if I remain out on the balcony, though?”

“But of course!” Cadenza gestured towards the balcony with a flourish. “Be our guest.”

You sauntered back to the balcony as the two began creating their music. They did a bit of a warm-up, which you suspected was more for the Madame, then they launched right into it. You were amazed at the way they complemented each other—they were perfectly in sync. Madame de Garderobe’s voice reached pitches you wouldn’t have thought possible for a human, and Maestro Cadenza’s hands never hesitated, even for a moment. You leaned against the railing and smiled.

This is a perfect time to read, you thought, staring back into the ballroom. Too bad I don’t have my book.

You frowned as you remembered that you’d given your book to Gaston. I suppose I could always go to the library and get another one. But you hated stopping in the middle of a book, even if it was one you’d read before. It made you feel as if you were betraying whatever you were currently reading.

You bounced from one foot to another. Do I go grab it? Or do I deal with it? He could be asleep…but I’m not that fortunate. He’ll be awake. Your emotions were evenly divided—you were still mad at him (and yourself), but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to see him again, if only to see how much damage your punch had done.

You sighed. So much for Belle dealing with him today. There was no avoiding the man, it seemed.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t take your time.

Rather than going back through the ballroom, you exited using the balcony stairs. From there you made your way to the front door of the castle, which was also opened to let in the summer air. You walked slowly up the stairs to the second floor, pausing every now and then to examine the gold railing. When you reached the small open door that led to the cell tower, you sighed. Now or never, right, (Y/N)?

You began the long trudge up the stone steps. The things I do for a book. Since you were moving so slowly, there was hardly an echo as your feet hit the ground. At least I won’t wake him if he’s asleep, you thought. That made you feel a little better…but only a little.

As you drew closer to the cell, you heard Belle’s voice. You stopped, fully aware that you were eavesdropping.

“But can I give you some advice?” you heard her say.

Advice about what? you wondered.

Gaston snorted. “Advice?”

“Stop.” Belle’s voice was crisp. “That right there is exactly what’s preventing you from your so called ‘dream life’. You know it, I know it, (Y/N) knows it.”

I have no clue what she’s talking about.

“You think I’m incapable of change.”

“Gaston, no one is incapable of change. Not even you.”

Belle’s footsteps rapidly approached, and you ran down a few stairs before deciding the best course of action would be to act like you were only now coming up. You spun around, bracing yourself against the wall so as not to trip, then carefully schooled your face into one of neutrality.

Belle soon came down the stairs. “Oh, (Y/N). I thought you were going to wait a while before coming back?”

You let loose a groan that sounded false to your ears but hoped came across as annoyed. “Yes, that was the plan,” you muttered, “but I left my book here. And you know me—I refuse to move to another book until I finish what I’m reading.”

Belle nodded, but you saw a hint of suspicion in her eyes. “Right,” she agreed hesitantly. “I could get it for you. I don’t mind.”

“No!” You resisted the urge to slap yourself for being abruptly loud. That’s not helping my case at all. “I mean…I can do it. I’m already here. I might as well.”

Belle continued to watch you with narrowed eyes, but she stood aside to let you pass. You did so, cringing once she was out of sight. If you hadn’t been acting suspicious enough, your lack of curiosity in her visit to Gaston was a surefire sign that you’d heard part of the conversation. Oh well. Too late now.

You slowed as you reached the cell. Gaston was sitting against the wall, head tilted up and eyes closed. An ugly bruise was beginning to purple from where you’d hit him. You doubted you’d done serious harm, but skin was easier to damage than bone. Hamlet was lying on the floor next to him. You opened your mouth to get his attention, but he beat you to it.

“What now, Belle?” When you didn’t reply, he opened one eye. “I said, wh—oh. It’s you.” He opened his other eye and rolled his head to better see you. “Have you come to yell at me some more? Or perhaps you want to punch me again. Not many have punched me and gotten away with it, let alone a woman.”

“I…I just came to get my book back,” you murmured. You imagined that you’d be angry the next time you saw him, but now that you were face to face with him…you didn’t know what to feel. You were still angry, yes, but the rage of last night had vanished for the most part.

Gaston exhaled deeply. “Of course.” He gestured to the book. “Well, come and get it.”

You opened the door and took a step into the cell. “I saw Belle leaving,” you said nonchalantly.

“Mmm.”

“Did you two discuss anything interesting?” You reached the book and bent down to pick it up, avoiding looking at him.

“Other than our friendly altercation last night and a lovely rehashing of all my misdeeds? Nope.” You saw the leg next to the book shift.

“Really? That’s all you talked about?” You were being risky by prodding so much, but you couldn’t help it. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back, didn’t it? You spared a glance at him.

Gaston was watching you, his green eyes boring into you. You felt yourself blush at the intensity of his gaze—it was like he was trying to figure out if you knew something. “Do you think we discussed something more?” he asked carefully.

“N-no,” you stammered. You retrieved the book and straightened. Once you were taller than him, you felt a little bit more confident. “I was just asking.”

His eyes squinted, but his face didn’t change otherwise. You were surprised to notice there were dark circles under his eyes. Is he not sleeping well? You suddenly remembered that you’d promised yourself you’d bring him a pillow or something last night. As if I didn’t feel guilty enough. “You’re staring.”

“What?”

“You’re staring,” Gaston repeated. Oddly enough, he wasn’t smirking. “Admiring your mark?”

Your eyes flicked to his bruised cheek and back to his eyes. “No,” you whispered. “I’m not proud of it, but I also don’t feel bad about it.” You turned to leave, but something made you look back at him. You opened your mouth to ask if he’d enjoyed seeing Belle again, but stopped at the sight of him. He wasn’t looking at you; instead, he was staring thoughtfully at the wall across from him, his hand gently rubbing the bruised cheek. You closed your mouth and left him to his thoughts.

As you walked back down the steps, you began flipping through your book. Any true desire you felt towards resuming your reading had gone, but you felt obligated to read now that you’d gone through the trouble of retrieving it. As you turned the pages, you noticed that the corner of one page was slightly turned down. You opened the book to that page and saw it was at the point where Hamlet left to speak to his father’s ghost. You paused on a step and frowned at the words. You’d been much further than this when you’d stopped, so why was this page marked?

I wonder if…no. He wouldn’t, would he? You glanced upwards behind you. Gaston isn’t known for his love of reading. But is it possible that he’s that bored? As you wondered this, you felt that lovely feeling of guilt you were getting so well acquainted with. If Gaston was truly that bored in his cell that he would actually begin reading a book—a Shakespearean book, no less—then had you just deprived him of that when you’d retrieved the book?

You closed the book and resumed walking. “Why is this so complicated?” you demanded. The walls gave no response, and you went through the open door and back down the main staircase. You didn’t feel like returning to the ballroom anymore, though you were sure the Maestro and Madame would be glad to have you. With a sigh, you leaned against the gold railing, closing your eyes to try and determine what you should do next.

“You look like you could use a cuppa, dear.”

You opened your eyes and spun around. Mrs. Potts was standing behind you, having just come from the dining area. “Oh! I didn’t know you were there,” you said, clutching the book to your chest.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just wandered out here and saw you sighing. You seem like you have a lot on your mind.” She smiled kindly. “When I have a lot on my mind, I find that a nice cup of tea helps me to slow down a bit.” She motioned towards the dining room. “Would you like some?”

Somehow, you felt as if she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Which is why you smiled at her. “Yes, thanks.” You followed her into the room and sat down in the chair closest to the unlit fireplace. You could see silhouettes walking about in the doorway that led to the kitchen, although you were still unfamiliar with most of the staff, so you didn’t really recognize anyone. Mrs. Potts bustled into the kitchen and returned pushing a gold cart with a hot teapot and two teacups. She poured the steaming liquid into the cups, then set one in front of you and the other at the chair next to you, where she then sat.

You gingerly picked up the teacup and blew on it.

Mrs. Potts did the same and took a small sip. She sighed happily. “Ahh, there’s nothing like tea for your troubles. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You made an affirmative sound and lifted your cup to your lips as well. You were using your non-dominant hand, which made you move slower, but you managed to get the cup to your lips without spilling it. The tea was hot, but even as it burned its way down your throat, it still gave you a small measure of comfort.

“How are you, (Y/N)?” the older woman asked, turning her chair to see you better.

You took another sip and coughed. “I’m fine, thanks.” She nodded, although you could tell by her body language she didn’t believe you.

She continued to smile, however, and continued. “Pardon my presumption, but when I saw you out there, you looked like you needed to talk with someone. I know that you’re close with Belle, but sometimes it’s nice to talk to a fresh set of ears.” She lifted the tea back to her lips. “If you ever need such ears, Mrs. Potts is here.” She began to drink.

You set your cup down and stared into it. She was right. You needed to talk to someone, and it couldn’t be Belle, because then you’d have to admit you eavesdropped on her conversation with Gaston. She probably wouldn’t be mad about it, but you weren’t ready for that conversation yet, as curious as you were. Maybe talking to someone unfamiliar with the situation would help.

Mrs. Potts waited patiently while you mulled. You finally looked up at her and made your decision. It can’t hurt.

“I’m just a little confused, I guess,” you said softly. “I don’t know what to do.”

She said nothing but instead reached for the teapot and poured herself some more tea.

“I...I’m fond of someone. But he’s an idiot, and manipulative and egotistical and rude and I feel like I shouldn’t like him the way I do, if that makes sense.”

You felt yourself blushing as you admitted this to the older woman. “I guess I’m not sure how I should feel about him. Should I seek such a man’s favor? Or should I treat him as just an acquaintance?”

Mrs. Potts set her cup down and leaned forward. “You can’t control who you fall in love with, dear. You can tell yourself that you shouldn’t, that you can’t, but that won’t stop your heart.” She smiled, momentarily reminding you of your own mother. “Just look at your friend Belle. She fell in love with what many would consider a monster. The Prince was rude and impulsive at first, and she made sure to tell him off when he was acting as such. The more time they spent together, however, the more she saw beyond his beastly exterior, and her heart fell in love.” You took a long sip as she continued. “He found himself feeling the same way, and the love he felt for her helped him to change himself into a better man. Could not the same happen with the man you are fond of?”

You sighed and nodded. “I know that’s possible, and I know that I can only encourage him to become a better person. But when I think about all the things he’s done, the lives he’s almost ruined…and that doesn’t stop me from caring about him.” You looked up at the chandelier that sat above the table. “Does that make me a horrible woman?”

Mrs. Potts took your hand in hers. “If anyone ever told you that just because you love someone, no matter who he is, you send him to me, (Y/N), and I’ll have a word with them.” Her voice was steady and low, betraying strength beneath the motherly exterior. “No one should ever make you feel ashamed for seeing the good in anyone. Not a stranger, not a friend, and certainly not yourself.” Her hand gave yours a firm squeeze. “Have patience and have faith. It will be hard for you, but there’s always hope for him. Never lose that hope.”

She released your hand, and you gave her a grateful smile. Part of what she’d said you already knew—Belle had told you—but hearing it from someone else did make you feel much better. And now you knew what the next step was.

“Mrs. Potts, I have a slightly odd favor to ask of you.”

She grinned. “Fire away, dearie!”

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” you complained to the walls as you leaned against them. You glared at the large bucket filled with scalding water. “This would be fine if I could use my other hand!”

Mrs. Potts had granted your request for soap and hot water, and, thankfully enough, hadn’t asked what it was for. Her words had given you the confidence you needed. Which was why you were now slowly making your way back to Gaston’s cell, fully intending on setting the water and soap down and leaving him to himself. He needed a bath, plain and simple. Since you couldn’t bring him to a washbasin, you’d have to bring the bath to him. It had been a brilliant idea.

Until now, when it’d taken you twenty minutes to get two-thirds of the way up the stairs. Your bruised hand throbbed every time you tried to grab the bucket with it, so you could only use your non-dominant hand to carry it (unless you wanted to deal with the pain, which, at this point, you were seriously contemplating whether it would be worth it).

The things I do for love. You hoisted the bucket up another few steps.

“Oh, merde.” You hadn’t gotten him clean clothes. Well, not yet, at least. That could wait until later when you brought him a pillow and blanket. Right now, you had one task and one task only.

He’d better appreciate this. Not that I care that much, but a little appreciation would be nice. I mean, I only saved his life and made sure he wasn’t too hurt and yes, maybe I contributed to that a little, but he deserved it, so I don’t care. You huffed and finished your thought out loud, “Well, not that much, at least.”

Another ten minutes, and you were almost there! Thank God, you thought in relief.

“I have to say, it sounds like you’re taking your time with something,” Gaston called. “Need a strong man to help?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he would hear you. How could he not? The water bucket made a loud thunk every time you set it down. “I’ve got it, thanks,” you called back, then muttered to yourself, “I don’t need a man. I’m a strong, independent woman who can carry a bucket on my own. It might take me longer, but I can do it.”

“Suit yourself.”

Then you were there, at the top of the stairs. You shook your arm out a little before gritting your teeth and lifting the bucket once again. You reached the door and opened it with your bad hand, wincing at how your fingers stung when you flexed them. Instead of lifting the bucket to carry it in, you dragged it, which allowed some of the water to slosh out. It had cooled on the journey; it was no longer scalding hot, but rather a nice warm.

“What’s this?” Gaston asked, leaning forward to peer into the bucket.

You straightened yourself and pulled out the soap and a washcloth. Suddenly, you felt embarrassed at the whole situation. If he chose to use this small privilege, then he would soon be naked in this very cell. Your cheeks, thankfully flushed with heat from the trek up, warmed even more, but you were certain he wouldn’t notice it.

Without saying anything, you tossed the soap at him. He caught it easily and sniffed it. “Soap?” he asked. You nodded, still too embarrassed to speak. The washcloth you simply draped along the edge of the bucket so that he could see it. After another moment, you withdrew the apple you’d gotten earlier and set it down next to the bucket. Please, don’t let him say anything. No lewd comments, no jokes. I think I might die if he does, you mentally prayed.

God must’ve heard you, because while Gaston looked like he wanted to say something, he didn’t. You were honestly surprised.

Not knowing what else to do, you turned to leave. You shut the door, but you felt like you needed to say something, at least. But what?

“Claudius killed the king,” you blurted.

Gaston set down the soap and looked at you, confused. “What?”

“In Hamlet. Hamlet talks to his father’s ghost and learns that he was poisoned by Hamlet’s evil uncle Claudius. In case you were wondering.”

You expected him to deny reading any of it. Surely he’d scoff and say something along the lines of, ‘I wasn’t’ or ‘Did you really think I’d read any of that?’

Instead, he surprised you for the second time today. “Oh,” he said simply. “Murder. How…nice.”

You nodded. “Murder most foul,” you replied, quoting the play.

There was a moment of silence. I guess I should leave now, you thought.

“Does Hamlet seek to avenge his father?”

Is he actually wanting to know? Is Gaston actually interested in a book? “Wouldn’t you?” you asked, turning and beginning to walk away. You thought you heard him scoff, but then you were gone.

“Belle! What are you doing?”

Your friend was currently saddling Phillipe. After you’d left Gaston, you, Belle, and Adam had all eaten lunch together. Once lunch was done, the two of them had gone off on their own while you went to the library and forced yourself to read. You were almost finished with Hamlet now, thankfully—ever since realizing Gaston had been reading it, you’d wanted to just finish it and perhaps return it to him. But you’d decided to go on a short walk around the castle grounds and stretch out your legs before reading the final act.

And that’s how you’d found Belle.

She laughed. “I’m going to town to visit with Papa. Would you like to join me?”

You considered her offer while she pulled her hair into a messy bun. It would be nice to talk with Maurice, but what if you ran into LeFou? After the conversation last night, you didn’t feel like speaking with him again, at least not for a while. He was still mourning the loss of his friend, and despite knowing that Gaston had betrayed him, you were afraid you’d feel guilty about hiding the fact that his comrade was indeed alive. As long as you couldn’t see LeFou, you could ignore that particular wave of guilt.

“No thanks, Belle, but I appreciate the offer,” you said with a smile. She shrugged. “But you could get something for me.”

Belle hopped up onto the horse and began making herself comfortable. “Of course. What do you need?”

“Could you get a shirt and some pants from your dad?” Gaston needed a clean outfit; there was no avoiding it. You were too afraid to ask Adam for his clothing. You were certain he’d be more than happy to give them to you, but the idea of asking a prince for clothes was just too much.

Belle raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

You sighed. “It’s for Gaston…” you muttered.

The eyebrow rose further. “For Gaston?” she repeated slowly.

Your cheeks flushed. I hate you, cheeks, you thought venomously. “He needs clean clothes. Even you can’t deny that.”

Belle tilted her head at you. “I wouldn’t deny it. But why don’t you just ask Adam?”

“He’s a prince! You don’t ask princes for their clothes, particularly if it’s for the man who tried to kill them!” You waved your arms as if that would emphasize your point. Belle rolled her eyes.

“(Y/N), just ask him. It’s not a big deal.” She tapped Phillipe’s flank with her feet, and the horse began trotting forward. “He’ll understand.”

You watched her ride away, frustrated. “Well, that was maddeningly unhelpful. I’m so glad I have her as a friend.”

You sighed and decided to return to the library. Might as well finish reading, right? Upon reaching the library, you plopped down into a comfty chair and pulled your legs up, Hamlet at the ready in your good hand. It took you a few minutes to get into it enough to push back thoughts of Gaston, but every now and then, a line would pop out at you that reminded you of him. You had to force yourself to keep reading, otherwise the thoughts would consume your mind and you’d never be able to finish it.

King Claudius: Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.

KING CLAUDIUS puts LAERTES’ hand into HAMLET’S

Hamlet: Give me your pardon, sir: I’ve done you wrong But pardon’t, as you are a gentleman This presence knows, And you must needs have heard, how I am punish’d With sore distraction. What I have done, That might your nature, honour and exception Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness—

Well, you thought, pulling yourself away from the text, I can relate to that. Maybe not in the exact same way, but I am. You found yourself staring at the unlit fireplace further down the room. I’m not mad, I don’t think, but could this be considered punishment for the way Gaston’s been treated? No matter what I do, I feel guilty when I think about him. A mental image of his bruised face flashed in your mind’s eye. See, exactly like that. Why must you do this to yourself, (Y/N)?

A soft noise came from behind you, and you snapped out of your reverie, turning to look at what had made the sound. It was Adam, hands behind his back, dressed a tad more regal today than he’d been the other day. He wore a navy blue jacket over a white shirt with tan breeches and boots, and his hair was pulled back into a ponytail. You set the book down and scrambled to stand up so you could curtsy (the formal attire made you feel obligated), but he smiled and motioned for you to stay as you were with one hand. With the other, he pulled out a plain white shirt, nicely folded.

“I heard you needed this?” he said easily, offering the shirt to you.

You eyed it suspiciously. “How in world did you know?” you asked.

He chuckled. “I have my ways,” he replied mysteriously. He let that hover for a moment before continuing. “Also, Belle rode past me on her way out and mentioned that you needed a shirt for a certain prisoner.” You made no motion to take the shirt from him, choosing instead to continue eyeing it. “It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Why are you doing this?” you couldn’t help asking. Yes, (Y/N), question the prince. That’s always a good idea.

Adam took a step forward, and for a moment, you thought he was going to lean against a table. He didn’t, though. He remained upright, maintaining his royal air. “I know what it’s like to be considered a monster,” he answered. He offered the shirt to you again, and this time, you took it. It was softer than any other shirt you’d ever held, likely due to it belonging to a prince of all people. “I know it’s hard to understand. Belle’s told me everything, including how you’re continually flabbergasted by how accepting I’ve been thus far. You needn’t worry that I’m going to suddenly demand retribution against him.” He furrowed his brows. “I might’ve before the curse. Actually, I know I would’ve.” He paused for a second, and you tried to imagine how different he must’ve been before. How awful did you have to be before an Enchantress cursed you for an indeterminate amount of time? A part of you wanted to know more, but you knew that the past was gone. Adam was different, and while his past would always haunt him, he’d chosen to move on from it. “In his defense, he might’ve actually believed Belle was under a spell of mine, and who knows? Perhaps he truly wanted to protect the village to a degree.” The prince shrugged. “As long as he makes no further attempts on my life, I see no reason why I should demand recompense other than what he’s already suffering.”

He even sounds more like a prince, you noted even as you absorbed what he was saying. “Thank you,” you said softly, hoping that he could hear how grateful you were in those two words.

Adam’s demeanor relaxed, just a hair. His smile softened. “You’re very welcome.” His blue eyes flicked to the book propped against the armrest of your chair. “I’ll leave you to your book, then. Please don’t be afraid to come to me for anything.” He gave you a small bow, which you returned with a low dip of your head, then he turned.

You watched him exit the library in brisk strides. Belle is a lucky woman. You snorted to yourself. Or maybe I should say Adam’s the lucky one for winning her heart.

You set the shirt on your lap and went back to your reading. Adam’s words had a calming effect on you, and you read the rest of the depressing play without being distracted by stray thoughts.

Belle hadn’t returned by dinnertime, but Adam had told you that was to be expected. The two of you had sat at the dining table in silence but with books opened. You had no clue what he was currently reading, but you’d moved to another Shakespearean script: A Midsummer Night’s Dream. You’d almost chosen another tragedy (Macbeth called to you for some reason), but decided against it. You needed a humorous play next to counter the depression of the previous play. And you’d never read this one before, so you might as well, right?

After you’d finished your soup, you knew it was time to visit Gaston again. Not only did he need a dinner of some sort, but you also wanted to bring him the shirt and a pillow…and maybe return Hamlet so he could finish it if he so desired.

Could I be carrying any more things? You glanced over the items in your arms. Yes, to be honest, I probably could.

Thankfully, you’d always been one for carrying multiple items at once, both at your old home and in town. You considered yourself a master of balancing things on each other, even if one of those items was soup. In addition, you had the benefit of pockets to hold the smaller items. He’d better not be naked when I get there.

You froze, one foot in the air. No. He wouldn’t. Would he? Your mind started summoning images of what that might look like, and you felt heat rise to your face and down your neck. No, I don’t want to think about this—stop it! You forced your foot down, hoping it would stamp out the images.

It didn’t work. Once you’d started, you couldn’t stop, no matter how flustered you were getting. After all, you’ve seen parts of him, and you liked what you saw, didn’t you? That dark, dirty voice was back.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up,” you muttered.

Oh, come on, (Y/N). You’re a grown woman. You’re allowed to indulge in your fantasies. It’s only natural. Your rebel mind created the scenario: you’d get to the cell door, and there Gaston’d be, relaxed and completely bare and giving you that damned devilish smirk with those green eyes watching and knowing exactly what you were thinking and then your eyes would wander down and—

STOP IT RIGHT NOW, (Y/N)! YOU’RE AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS.

“Oh, God, please don’t let him be naked. If I’ve ever done anything good in my life, anything at all, please don’t let him be naked,” you prayed under your breath, trying to reign in your feelings. You stood at the open door for a minute or two, giving your face a chance to return to its normal coloring, then you stepped forward, eyes pointedly staring at the ceiling.

If he is naked, just throw everything and run.

You opened the door and let your eyes glance towards Gaston.

Oh, thank God. You sighed in relief. Gaston was leaning up against the wall (as usual), and while he didn’t have his shirt on, his breeches were still firmly on. You quickly examined the rest of the cell and saw that he’d turned the small stool upside down so he could set his shirt, which looked damp, on it. The sight caught you off guard, and you found yourself staring at it.

“Ahem.”

You blinked and faced Gaston, who was watching you, head cocked to the side.

“Hello.”

“Oh! Uhm. Right. I mean, hello.” You nodded down at the tray of food that was in your good hand, indicating that it was for him. You frowned when you realized you had no good way to get the tray off of the pillow unless you used your bad hand.

For the third time today, Gaston surprised you. He jumped up from his seated position and lifted the tray off the pillow easily. “Oh, uhm, thank you,” you said, caught off guard by his help. And maybe a bit by his bare torso.

“You’re welcome.” He grinned, and any of the somberness from your earlier meeting that had remained was gone.

You rolled your eyes. “I could’ve figured something out,” you said in your defense. “But thanks anyway.”

His grin turned into a smirk. “Anything to help a beautiful woman such as yourself.” He examined the tray, which contained a bowl of soup, a huge loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese, more fruit, and a tall glass of water. “All this for me? You shouldn’t have.”

You could hear the sarcasm in his tone, so you decided to play along. “Okay then.” You dropped the pillow and grabbed the tray back from him. “I guess I’ll just return this.” You turned as if you were leaving.

You heard him make a sound of protest, then he moved in front of you. You felt your eyes glance at his muscular chest, but forced them to return to his face. “When I say ‘you shouldn’t have’, I don’t mean it.” You couldn’t help it—you laughed. Had he thought you were serious?

Once you laughed, his face relaxed, prompting a chuckle from him. Something about the way he chuckled warmed you, and you found yourself grinning at him. You offered him the tray once more, which he readily accepted. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to starve you, Gaston.”

He winked. “Because I’m too handsome to starve?” he asked hopefully. You shook your head and sat down on the floor, not caring if it dirtied your skirt.

“Because I’m not that kind of person, you idiot.”

He sat down next to you, leaving a small amount of space between the two of you (which made you both grateful and a bit disappointed). He picked up the loaf of bread and tore off a piece, which he dipped into the soup. “I appreciate that.” He took a large bite out of his bread, then continued to dip it into the soup.

You drew up your knees and pulled a book out of a pocket.

“Oh, not again! Are you going to read the whole time?” Gaston pouted, pausing in his eating.

“Well, it’s not like you’re talking to me. What, do you want me to just talk to you while you eat?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

You sighed and set the book down. “Okay. What do you want me to talk about?”

Your eyes wandered to his shoulders when he shrugged again. Okay, this is gonna get distracting if I don’t watch out. So talk about something that’ll keep you focused. “Hmm. Okay. Well, the castle is huge. I don’t know how much of it you saw (when you stormed it and tried to kill the Beast, you added silently), but it’s amazing.” You scooted back so that your back was resting against the wall and made yourself a bit more comfortable.

“Uhm…I mean, it’s a castle, so of course there’s lots of rooms. And there’s a lot of gold everywhere. The prince is fond of gold, I guess. Oh, there’s a huge library, filled with more books than there are people in Villenueve. And it smells like parchment when you walk in. There’s plenty of soft chairs for reading in, and tables that are stacked with books.” You smiled as you pictured the room that you’d been reading in not too long ago.

Gaston snickered. You raised your eyebrows at him, demanding an unspoken, ‘What?’ He swallowed the food in his mouth before replying. “Of course you would talk about the library. You and Belle and that love of books…” He chuckled again. “It’s amusing.”

Now it was your turn to pout. “Hey, books are wonderful! What do you have against them?” You crossed your arms as you waited.

Gaston turned so that he was directly across from you (and his torso was in your direct line of sight). “I don’t have anything against books or even reading. I just don’t understand why you would want to waste time when there’s so many better things to do.”

“Like hunting and drinking beer?” you shot back. “Because that’s so productive.” The sarcasm was strong in your voice.

“What purpose is there to embracing a fantasy world when you already have everything you could ever want or need?”

“Are you trying to tell me that right now, you have everything you want and need? Because I’m inclined to disagree there.” You nodded at the cell.

Gaston scoffed and set the bread down. “Well, no, not presently. But I did before.”

“See, that’s not true at all! You wanted Belle and you couldn’t get her.”

“That’s because someone kept getting in my way.”

“Now who’s living in a fantasy world? Do you honestly, fully and completely, with all of your heart and mind think that if I hadn’t been there intervening, that Belle wouldn’t have rejected you?”

“She might’ve given in eventually!”

“Haha, you said might’ve! That means you at least have some part of you that understands that she wouldn’t have!” You pointed a finger at him triumphantly.

He opened and shut his mouth as he tried to think of a response. Finally, he seemed to realize that you’d caught him, and he squinted at you. “Fine. I concede that there was always a small chance she would never choose me.”

You grinned, happy that you’d won the argument. “That’s what I thought,” you couldn’t resist taunting him. He rolled his eyes and picked the bread back up.

“So, then, I suppose the library is your favorite room in this castle?” he asked, jabbing the bread into the soup, clearly agitated at your victory.

“Actually, it’s not.”

He made a questioning sound through his mouthful of food.

“There’s a ballroom. It—it defies description.” You pictured it and tried. “It’s giant and round, and you could easily fit a hundred couples on the dance floor, which is polished marble with gold seams. There are chandeliers that illuminate it at night (or so I suppose; I’ve never been in there at night). You walk in, and you can just imagine the splendor of a party.” You could feel your mind losing itself in your imagination. You got more animated as you got lost in your own world, waving your hands to represent the dancers and swaying your body slightly. “The gowns, the music—there’s a harpsichord played by the maestro, and he’s accompanied by his wife, a world-famous opera singer. Everyone’s dancing, spinning and smiling and you can feel the excitement in the air—it’s just…it’s absolutely…” You frowned, unable to think of the right word to describe the sight.

“Breathtaking,” Gaston murmured.

You pointed at him. “Yes! Breathtaking! That’s the word!” You beamed at him, glad he’d found the word you needed. “It’s breathtaking.”

You paused, allowing the fantasy ball you’d created to take over. When it faded away a few seconds later, Gaston was staring at you, the bowl of soup empty by his side. Something about the way his green eyes were boring into you, almost as if he was able to picture the same scene…but then why was he staring at you rather than the wall? And he was leaning towards you, though whether it was conscious or not you couldn’t tell.

You blushed at the intensity of his gaze. “What?” you asked bluntly, hoping to break his concentration.

He blinked, leaning back. “What?” he repeated, his voice a little lower than it’d been before.

“You were staring.”

“Are you lodging a complaint?”

You blushed even more. “No. I mean, yes?” He grinned, filling his demeanor with its usual cockiness. “Wait, what? You were the one staring, not me!”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching me this whole time. One could say you’re taking advantage.”

“WHAT? H-how?!” you spluttered. “You’re the one without a shirt on! I think you want me to stare!”

He winked. “You can’t deny it, (Y/N). If you wanted me to put my shirt back on, all you had to do was ask.” He stood and began walking to the overturned stool with the damp shirt.

Yes, because a wet shirt is going to be so much better…

Your eyes widened at the thought, and you scrambled to your feet. “No, don’t wear that shirt!” You hurriedly reached into your larger pocket and retrieved the shirt Adam had given you. “Wear this!” You threw it at him, wincing as you automatically used your bad hand to throw.

He caught it easily, still grinning cheekily. “Aww, you brought me a new shirt? How kind of you.” He sniffed it before pulling it on over his head. He took his time, knowing that you were watching, and you saw how his muscles rippled when he reached up. Your face was probably bright pink by now, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You were fascinated by his body.

“Still taking advantage, I see,” he said nonchalantly. He turned as a false pretense of modesty, but now you were staring at his toned back. The bruises were fading, and it seemed like his shoulder was healing, though he still moved it slowly. So perhaps he wasn’t going slow just to antagonize you.

Somehow your eyes wandered down to the top of his pants, and you had enough time to notice just how well fit they were on him before shaking your head frantically. Don’t stare at his butt, (Y/N). He can probably feel it, and you know that’s a teasing opportunity right there. Don’t give it to him!

You cleared your throat as he tugged the shirt down completely. “So. Uhm. Your other shirt—it’s wet?” You mentally slapped yourself. You were acting like one of those three bimbettes that fawned over Gaston in town!

Gaston turned around to face you once again, still smirking. “Yes, it is.”

You opened your mouth, knowing what you wanted to ask but unsure how to frame it. It didn’t help that your mind was still reeling from seeing his handsome body. Luckily, Gaston was not stupid, and he figured out what you wanted to know.

“What, you didn’t think me capable of washing my own clothing? I’m hurt.” He frowned dramatically, but it didn’t last long before the smirk returned. “I know how. I was responsible for my own laundry every now and then in the war.”

“Then why didn’t you do it afterwards?” Oh, look, your voice had returned.

He laughed. “Why would I do my own laundry when there were plenty more willing to do it for me?”

You wondered if he meant the bimbettes or LeFou, then came to the conclusion that he probably meant LeFou because who else would Gaston trust with his clothing? So then he’s reverting back to his ‘perfect person’ attitude, you realized. I need to keep that from happening if I can.

“What was the war like?” you found yourself asking.

He sauntered back to you, where he sat, this time leaving less space between you. “Glorious,” he replied softly. “We may have lost as a nation, but I never lost as a Captain. Even when our supply lines were cut off by guerrillas, men followed my orders.” He stared at the wall, lost in memories. “Even when we were starving, they obeyed. Sure, a quite a few of my men died, but that’s to be expected.” He glanced at you. “The Portuguese began burning their own villages down so that we couldn’t steal their supplies,” he explained. You nodded. “And they offered vast sums of money to those who would desert our army.” A dark glint appeared in his eyes. “I had a few defectors in my faction, but they didn’t live as such for long.”

You shivered at the tone his voice had taken, knowing that he must’ve personally hunted them down and killed them. “That must’ve been difficult surviving,” you said quietly.

He nodded. “It was. There was a moment when LeFou and I—that was how we met, you know.” He shifted, brushing his shoulder against yours for a brief moment. “He was my lieutenant. He was the only one bold enough to question my orders if he had doubts, and I liked that about him. He was also fiercely loyal. I never for a second thought him capable of defecting.” You found yourself leaning towards him a little, riveted by his tale. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to notice. “We were being chased by the Anglo-Portuguese army and the peasantry.” He laughed. “I never thought I would be running from mere peasants, but I suppose anything can happen in war. We rode for three days straight, not stopping to eat or sleep, barely evading capture. Bullets would graze past us, occasionally hitting one of my men as we ran. We lost several soldiers to sleep deprivation—they fell off their horses and were trampled.”

You tried to picture such a horrible thing and found that you could easily. With a shudder, you forced the mental image back.

“But we survived. We got in a skirmish shortly after we thought ourselves safe, but desperate men so close to escaping and returning home will fight until their dying breath, and we won.” The dark undertone of his voice had gone, now replaced with a hint of triumph. You were surprised to see a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“And then I returned to Villenueve, LeFou by my side, and naturally, everyone remembered the man who saved the village prior to the war. I was a hero, even if we’d lost the war.” He pulled up one leg and rested his arm on his knee.

“You saved the village?” You’d never heard that story before. You just thought he was a war hero, and that was why everyone practically worshiped him.

He frowned. “How on earth have you not heard that story?” he demanded. “Everyone knows that story!”

“Obviously not.” You placed your hands on your knees. “So tell me.”

“Before the war actually began, the Portuguese were occasionally invading France. A group of invaders attacked Villenueve, and when our king (he spat the word) did nothing to help, I took charge and led the men against them. It took a few days, but we defeated them with only one loss on our side. It was fairly easy, actually,” he added, obviously bragging about his success.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, it sounds like it was,” you agreed.

“Did I mention I was only 16 at the time?”

“I don’t know if I can believe that.”

“I was! It’s true!” He lifted his other hand, as if that would prove his point. “Ask anyone!”

“Yeah, well, when I was 16, I almost successfully burned down a church.” Okay, so that was a slight exaggeration, but he didn’t need to know that.

Gaston raised an eyebrow. “This sounds like a story I need to hear.”

You laughed. “No, you really don’t.”

“Tell me!” He was insistent, but he was grinning, so you knew he wouldn’t push it too far if you refused. “Please?”

You put a finger to your chin, pretending to consider him. “I’ll tell you if you’re telling the truth about saving the village at 16.”

He snorted. “Fine. It’s a deal.” He held out a hand. You glanced at it before nodding and grabbing it with your own. Unfortunately, you used your bad hand, and when he squeezed it, you couldn’t help but wince.

Gaston frowned. “What?” He looked down at your hand and saw the bruises on your knuckles. “Is that from last night?” He released your hand but kept it on his palm. You made no motion to remove it, but nodded at his question. He prodded the knuckles gently, and you hissed in pain. “Sorry,” he muttered, ceasing his prodding.

“It’s okay,” you replied, trying to ignore how much it hurt even though he’d stopped. “It was worth it to be able to say I got to punch a war hero.”

He shook his head in amusement. “It was a good punch, I have to say. Although it looks like it did more damage to you than it did to me.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you didn’t say anything for a few moments after that, though Gaston continued to hold your hand. Suddenly you realized how much time had passed. What if Belle’s back by now and wondering where I am? You were surprised to find that you didn’t really care if she was indeed wondering that. Despite how angry you’d been 24 hours ago, you were thoroughly enjoying Gaston’s company now. He wasn’t acting quite as brutish as he normally did, and the change was…nice.

As you debated between leaving now or staying a little longer, Gaston began to lightly rub his thumb in circles against your wrist. The motion was soothing, even though your wrist was slightly sore as well.

“I should probably go now,” you murmured.

“Do you have to?” Gaston’s voice was slightly husky. You resisted the urge to shiver, though you weren’t cold.

He wants me to stay, you thought, feeling a wave of warmth go through you. It’s probably because he’s lonely. Of course he’d want you to stay. You’d feel the same if the situation was reversed.

He was still rubbing his thumb in circles, watching you, green eyes practically begging you to stay just an hour more.

Suddenly you felt overwhelmed by everything. You tugged your hand out of his grip and stood. “I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “I just—I have to go. It’s getting late.”

You expected him to protest, but he didn’t. He just watched as you dusted your skirt off and made your way to the cell door. You left Hamlet where you’d set it earlier, hoping he’d continue to read the play on his own time.

You considered whether you should apologize for your abrupt departure. But that felt like admitting that you were wrong to leave, and you weren’t fully sure if you were. “Good night, Gaston,” you said instead.

“Good night, (Y/N).” He looked so lonely now that he was by himself once more. He didn’t look at you as you left, but stared out the open door and out the window across from him, where you could see the dim shadows of the castle.

As you made your way down the stairs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made a mistake.

Next Chapter

#gaston #gaston x reader #second chance #kate writes #beauty and the beast #batb #gaston imagine

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abandonedshoppingtrolley · 8 years ago

Text

My Thoughts on Final Fantasy XV

This is a little late to the game now but it’s a long time coming for me to write my thoughts on it and I’ve decided to do it now because of well recent developments and announcements of future patches etc.

I made this a read more because it’s a little bit longer than I intended but yeah hopefully this is easier to read and stuff but there you go for those who care?

First off I want to note that I enjoyed Final Fantasy XV to me it was a pretty good game. Overall I’d give it 7/10 maybe 8/10 tops?? It really doesn’t deserve anything higher than that for me though I’m afraid mostly because it’s not incredibly groundbreaking. They haven’t incorporated anything hugely new to it? Everything within it has already been done, albeit in a different form but yeah.

First of The Characters:

Overall I have to admit I think the four guys were pretty awesome characters.

Noctis - The sleepy, moody prince who wasn’t too into his duties as a prince. It sometimes felt like in the undertone that he had a feeling the only reason his friends were around (Mostly Gladio and Ignis) were simply tied to the fact that he himself was a prince, sadly that wasn’t explored... At all. His character through the story was admittedly written quite well, he starts off a mega sleepy prince, becomes enraged and continuously fueld by his emotions of wanting revenge and also being unable to cope with the loss of those around him. This doesn’t stop him from enjoying himself but it’s a big influence.

Gladiolus- He’s the big tough guy of the group, masculine, muscular the kind of guy who’d wear shorts during winter to prove how straight he is. Honestly I don’t have any qualms with his character! I think he was well written in remaining a good friend, bodyguard, true to himself and also unable to hold back his emotions, which was particularly made known when he became increasingly angry over Noctis’ self anguish over Luna’s death and how he became frustrated over him not showing any care towards Ignis becoming blind. The only problem I really have to find is his relationship with his sister. He worried over her situation, how she was etc when Insomnia was attacked and over the course of the game showed increasing concern over her well being EXCEPT the moment they met. There was almost nothing between them. He had a stronger relationship with his group of friends than he did with his little sister which they built up so much of.

Ignis - Being the calm and collected guy of the group he was mostly a tactical advisor and almost like a caregiver of sorts to both Noctis and Prompto, constantly advising them, cooking and being the most “adult” one of the group. Like with Gladio I really don’t have any qualms over his character? It was definitely interesting to see him go blind and how he coped with that situation too since that was something Final Fantasy hadn’t done before either.

Prompto - Good ol’Prompto! He felt like he was going to be the annoying character of the group with his witty one liners but honestly? He’s really just as awesome. I didn’t find him annoying one bit during the entirety of the game which was good. He’s a well written character who seemingly helps keep Noctis grounded since he doesn’t treat him like a prince but rather like a best friend which is both good for Noctis of course and good for us to see another side to them both. The only dig I have to make about him is his relation to magitek soldiers/demons. It wasn’t explained... At all? It felt like it was just thrown into the game for shock factor and then IMMEDIATELY dismissed and never brought up again? Maybe this was implied in the Brotherhood anime or Movie but regardless it should’ve been explained in game? I shouldn’t have to watch the anime or movie to really understand the story of the game itself, it should explain itself fluidly and properly without the need of extra content, because that’s there to be well just extra content?

Other Characters - You’re probably thinking “But Sam there are so many other characters you can’t shove them all into one category” well sadly I can because none of them are really fleshed out characters I’m afraid, dismissing Cindy and Cid of course who are for a better part of the game quite important. Sadly the others aren’t even though some of them should be. (looking at you Luna and Ravus). None of the extra characters have really been given much to them, they’re all rather 2-dimensional? Iris, Gladio’s sister who was given a good chunk of dialogue did interact quite well with the part and it was implied she liked Noctis and that she was a good friend to everyone within the 4 main characters HOWEVER it wasn’t fully explored? There were just underlying tones of what kind of relationship she has to everyone, as well as her feelings for Noctis sadly.

Luna, who is supposed to be an INCREDIBLY RELEVANT CHARACTER almost the same amount of importance as Noctis well what can I say, She seems strong, She seems defiant, She seems brave and She seems like she’s a kind and caring person who obviously cares deeply for both her family and close one’s. Do you see the problem here, if not re-read that again. Everything about her all I can really say is it SEEMS like because we don’t know her. We know parts of her through other people, JUST BARELY, but even then it’s not enough. We weren’t given the chance to truly get to know Lunafreya as a character and that honestly disappointed me because by the time we got to meet her she died. Her death had no impact on me what so ever. The only reason I was sad was because it made Noctis sad, and that’s not enough. That’s not good story telling because FFXV isn’t JUST about Noctis.

The same situation with Ravus he was actually supposed to, as you find out old some strong respect for Noctis he was just frustrated with what was happening to Luna (There were some documents I believe you had to find to find this out or something?). I honestly wish I could’ve felt more emotion for him because from it sounds like he seems like a caring older brother figure who also cares deeply for Noctis, sadly all we really see is an older brother who betrayed his nation, his sister and all those around him and stole Regis’ Armiger. I don’t feel sad about his end, he was forced to become a monster, a demon but I didn’t know him enough to well actually care? It disappointed me because I didn’t get that chance to build as strong a connection with him.

Moving on from Characters:

Overall the gameplay mechanics were really fantastic, the controls weren’t clunky everything flowed quite nicely but there was nothing that hadn’t really been done before if I’m honest? The graphics however to point out were ASTOUNDING They really outdid themselves the game is absolutely gorgeous there’s no denying that! The soundtrack too I found was a perfect fit for the game, they really outdid themselves on that ESPECIALLY Florence and the machines rendition of Stand by me, it fitted perfectly with the characters and the theme they were going through it truly, honestly impressed me.

The magic, elemancy as it’s called I did enjoy. I loved seeing how my magic affected my surroundings as well as having to think tactically since it could also affect my teammates especially in some closed off areas. I liked it, however it felt kind of boring apart from that? To put it simply magic in this game (casting aside the Luciis ring which is USELESS) is basically just a bomb. A bomb infused with magical energy that anyone can then use a set amount of times. It’s like an action game with grenades with different affects, some causing more fires or others being cryo related. So it kind of felt bland in that aspect, although the merging of elements for spells with items as well was quite enjoyable especially the way you could fuse in status effects. (Although let me tell you Quad/Quintcast is the way to go just saying). My second dig has to be the amount of elements available. There were three, Fire, Ice and Thunder WHICH has always been prominent within Final Fantasy so I can see why they’re there. But Final Fantasy 13 had not only those 3 included but water, earth and wind elements as well with the spells, water of course, aero and quake. So honestly I was sad to see them not throw them in too, which would’ve increased the amount of tactics at hand and the amount of elemancy fusing you could do, considering they had 2 astrals which were of earth (titan) and water (Leviathan).

Okay so moving on from that let’s get into the most important part of Final Fantasy XV, THE STORY, and whether that was good and concise or just random gibberish. Well honestly The story wasn’t too bad, you’ve got princey boy and his band of merry bro’s off to get him wed to the hot chick who’s loved by everyone for saving the world and speaking to the godly gods, but shit hits the fan when Insomnia falls to Imperial fleets and now the prince and his broski’s are on the run still aiming to be wed? Lots of things happen and they go on a quest for revenge reclaiming the old kings powers and the astral beings in order to gain the strength to smash those imperial asshole faces in. Sadly his father of course died as we find out AKA his prime reason for revenge but Luna dies too which cause even more tension in the group, Ignis goes blind, Gladio gets made, Prompto’s a magitek demon soldier boy??? And then there’s the weird guy who just keeps appearing every who “Surprisingly” Turns out to be the main antagonist. But of course before you can smash his face in Noctis gets eaten alive by the crystal, his friends have to flee from the demon spree and ten years scroll by. Out pops princey boy on an abandoned island which just so happens to have a boat docked, he sails off back to the once sunny resort reflecting on how the land itself has been blanketed by eternal night. He meets up with old pay’s at Cindy’s hammerhead garage place, meets the broski’s forges a plan, charges into Insomnia, kicks ass and saves the day by giving his life to the crystal or whatever and boom the sun comes out.

On a more serious not it was really kind of... clunky. There were moments it felt awkward and you questioned some of the choices the group actually made? There were also themes that felt too forced, like Prompto’s apparent super soldier ser- i mean demon serum birth thingy that again WAS NOT EXPLORED, was just thrown in for shock factor. I’m not gonna say it was all bad because I enjoyed it and they did very well in forging a strong bond between 4 friends who stuck through thick and thin with each other HOWEVER that’s all they did well story wise. They needed to fit more in, more explanation of the characters, more things to do with Iris, Cindy, Cid, Luna ESPECIALLY LUNA AND RAVUS. Cor was tossed to the side after they were through with him and then brought him back for one final hurrah in the middle. Aranea Highwind was given the bare minimum of an explanation but honestly we don’t know her, her story or who the hell she really is, she’s just a lady with a lance and lot of people who know she’s a buff bad bitch. The story felt empty, incomplete almost. I wanted more for the characters, I want more from chapter 13/14 I wanted to explore that ruined world. I didn’t want to just have my teammates just HAPPEN to get to me at the exact moment I’d appear. Why couldn’t my new mission have been to find and reunite with them in different parts of Eos, having to explore the world once again except ten years later after being covered in darkness, seeing places I once loved and thought were gorgeous covered in darkness, destroyed by demons. People I’d previously met who’d gone crazy, been killed changed etc. I wanted to see this “Iris the demon slayer”. There was still so much that could’ve been put in to Final Fantasy XV to not only make the story more concise and a more enjoyable experience, but to also add in more content to enjoy.

And finally moving on to the last bit DLC:

Okay first of all it’s nice to see them become active in making dlc content for this game it’s really good. I love the idea of the moogle carnival it was a great thing to throw in. I like the items they keep putting in too, new equipment etc which is honestly a thing most games do anyway. I’m also excited about the apparent Character chapters they were going to release for Gladio, Prompto and Ignis, having the chance to not only play as them but also learn more about them.

But... Some striking rumours, which are apparently confirmed have both shocked and horrified me. They’re working on patching into the game a better storyline... a better chapter 13 etc. WHY???

Stop beating a dead horse. The story has been told you CANNOT just change it on a whim because you want it to be good, that’s like an author publishing a book and then telling everyone who bought it it’s not good enough and he wants to rewrite a few chapters. If you do that whatever I’ve played right now, is basically irrelevant because I don’t know what you’re planning on changing?

The stories been told, leave it at THAT. The point of dlc is to bring in EXTRA CONTENT, extra chapters, items, sidequests etc NOT TO CHANGE THE ORIGINAL STORY BEING TOLD!!!!!!!!!! Regardless of whether it’s not changing it but rather just trying to “improve” it, it’s already been told END OF STORY!!!

Rather than focusing on FFXV’s story, which has already been done, either focus your efforts on the dlc content, other games square enix has in the works OR even more importantly how you’re going to improve your content IF you decide to make a Final Fantasy XVI. The last comment, what I mean is just understanding what they did right and what they did wrong with XV and making sure not to make the same mistakes with future games. That’s what’s important to me right now, that’s what I’m committed into as a person who loves Final Fantasy and the many world’s and characters it holds. I want to see the developers, the content creators committing themselves to bettering their own abilities and making sure not to cause the same mistakes, the same crap that happened in XV. That’s what’s important to me after this, not some changing in story crap.

Side Note: It’d also be great if, I know they like having super complex story lines but if they went back to basics, have a basic story line that’s easy to follow and not too complicated. A game can be amazing without a hugely complex story line, just look at some of the indie games that have had break throughs too!

#long post #ffxv #final fantasy xv #final fantasy #square enix

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amatchgirl · 4 years ago

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4 Levels of Banana Bread: Amateur to Food Scientist | Epicurious

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[energetic drumbeat] – Hi, I'm Jon, and I'm a level one chef. – I'm Gabrielle, and I'm a level two chef. – I'm Sim. I'm the dean of bread baking at the Institute of Culinary Education, and I've been baking since 1973. [energetic drumbeat] – I am a huge fan of banana bread. This is a very dumbed down version of my grandma's recipe and just makes me feel warm inside. – It's one of the only foods that you make when something is about to go bad. I'm making this banana bread gluten-free, but it's gonna taste just as good, if not better. – This is a more Caribbean-style banana bread. Pan de Platano, plantains, instead of bananas. [dramatic soundscape] [bright chimes] – First up, we're gonna mash up our bananas. I traditionally like to use very ripe bananas. – Toward the end of their life, if you will. – They're mushy, they're easy to work with. – Their sugar has, like, I don't know how to say this scientifically, but these are sweeter. – So we're gonna use plantains. The riper they are, the sweeter the flavor, just like with regular banana bread. – Remove the peels up off our bananas. – And if they have like little brown spots and stuff, it's okay, that's the point! They're perfect just the way they are! – So I'm gonna take the top off and the bottom off. Cut this in half. Split down the sides. And I'm gonna take off my skin. – They already smell so good. That's how you know a good, really ripe banana. – These are just nice and soft and ready to turn into something beautiful and amazing. – Let's roast these plantains. Put a little bit of olive oil on my paper. Like that, lay these out. Put a little bit of sugar and a little bit of butter on top of this. A little bit of rum, it just sorta gives it a nice flavor. Don't go crazy. I'm gonna put these into an oven, 350 degrees, for about 10, 15 minutes. – Now I'm just gonna go up and mash them. Because they're super ripe, I'm just gonna use a whisk. Could even use a fork if you don't have a whisk. – But a fork works just great. – Here are the plantains. They've now softened up considerably. They're nice and sorta caramely. And we're gonna put these in a bowl like this along with a little bit of butter and that sugar and rum. Smells fantastic. Onto the machine now. And we're gonna start this up. – Really easy. – Mash, mash, mash. This was the best part when I was a kid. I thought it was so fun that my mom let me destroy something in the kitchen. – I wanna get these down to, like, a banana stew. If there's lumps, that's okay. – I like to keep it a little bit chunky so I'm not gonna totally disintegrate all the bananas. – They're becoming soft and they're becoming mashed. – So I've got my oven preheating, and I'm gonna go ahead and grease my loaf pan. – Pretty simple, I'm just gonna take a little oil. – Simple cooking spray here. And gonna really get that. – Spread it around a little bit. – Nice and greased. – Then, I'm going to take my parchment paper. And this really helps you take it out when it's done. We don't want it sticking! – So now for our batter. We're gonna work with the wet ingredients. Have my mashed bananas, which look like baby food. Melted butter. – I'm going to start with light brown sugar. – Sugar. Just gonna mix it all up. – I'm gonna add in all my honey as well. I think that the honey creates a little bit more of like a flavor profile, rather than just regular sugar. – I'm gonna put a little bit of vanilla in here. – One egg. Gorgeous. Mix this up. – Put in my coconut oil. And then I'm gonna put in tahini. It balances out some of the sweetness. Then I'm gonna start whisking this together. – Put a little bit of orange juice in here now, just to moisten up the batter. – It's all about the moisture, the moister the better. – Put the whole orange. Just gonna leave this for a little while, let this get really soft and mushed. Not too many lumps. – I actually don't mind a little lumps in my banana bread. – But I like it a little chunky. I'm going to go ahead and add in my eggs. Give these a quick whisk before I put in the rest. Instead of using dairy milk, I decided to use an almond milk. And then lastly, we're gonna put in the crown jewel, the bananas! And then, it doesn't exactly look pretty but I wanna try and get this all combined. – All my wet is in here. – Just like when you make cookies or a cake, you start with your sugar and your butter and your base and then you go ahead and add in your dry ingredients. It's all fully combined, still have some nice lumps in there. For our dry ingredients, have my– – [All] Flour. – I wanna sift my gluten-free flour and then almond meal, sift that in as well, to just kinda bulk up this recipe a little bit. I'm going to go ahead and just start combining them in little batches so that I can make sure that I'm not leaving anything chunky and it's all combining really nicely. – We have. – [All] Salt. – Pink Himalayan sea salt. 'Cause we're fancy like that. – Baking powder. – Baking powder. Just like with a cake, gonna add my dry ingredients into my wet ingredients little by little, to not overwhelm it. – We're gonna add baking soda, cinnamon. – Baking soda, cinnamon. Just adds a little extra something. – Always hold back on cinnamon, just a little bit. – And then my vanilla, which I guess is not a dry ingredient but I forgot to add it otherwise, so. – Sugar. I'm using light brown here. Big fan of nutmeg, which I find is a little bit more aromatic, also makes you dream. – Make sure that all the ingredients get fully combined. I don't wanna see bits of flour. – I'm sweating. Baking isn't for the faint of heart. – Just got some beautiful walnuts here. Gonna chop these bad boys up. – I have the most important element, the chocolate chunks, from actual chocolate bars! I'm gonna see what two of these bars look like and maybe we'll do three. Probably three. Why not? – I have these roasted pecans. Rough chop, nice big pieces. And in they go. – You don't have to add in nuts if you don't like to or you're allergic, but for me, if I have them, it's a must-add. – Ooh! If you've never had the satisfaction of cutting through a chocolate bar, I highly recommend it. It's very therapeutic and it smells really, really good. We're gonna do a third one. – We're gonna put a little bit of ginger in this. Crystallized ginger. Chop it quite small. This is to taste. Mix your flour in so that you distribute the baking powder and the baking soda, which is important. – Fold the nuts in. This looks so good! – Gonna give this a stir before I put it into the pan. – Here's my mashed. I'm gonna put one egg in and mix that up a little bit more. And pour my dry in. You don't want to overmix because the gluten will tighten up. And I'm actually gonna just put a little bit of starter into my mix, just to like liven that flavor up a little bit. – This is done! Now, I'm going to pour this into my parchment-lined pan. – [Jon] Could see the lumps of banana. Nice chunks of walnut. – All these chunks! – You could do this in a metal tin, I sorta like these decorative paper ones. – Go ahead and give it a little shake. – Okay, this looks good to me. – Now to add on a topping. – And make it look really pretty. And add some extra flavor. – Just gonna add on some simple granulated sugar, right on the top of my batter. And this'll give it a little bit of crunch. – I'm going to cut a banana lengthwise. Place it in here. It's a little prettier if you put the seed side facing up, you kinda see the texture of the banana. – Put some pecans on. I wouldn't roast these before going on, just put these on raw. – And then I'm gonna go ahead and take my sesame seeds and just do a nice little sprinkling all over the top. – I like to put some pineapple on there, just keep that sorta Caribbean theme going. Not too thin slices, they sorta caramelize up a little bit. – This is ready to go into the oven now. – Just going to preheat my oven to 325 degrees. – 350 degrees Fahrenheit. – 45 minutes at 350. – My banana bread is ready. It's been out of the oven. Been cooling for a little bit. – It collapsed a little bit, but that's what happens sometimes. – We're gonna turn this stove up. And we're gonna put a little bit of nappage in there. Nappage is actually a glaze that's made from agar agar, which is a seaweed. We're gonna just do a little bit of water in there. Okay, we're melting it down, mixing it with the water. Whilst that's going, let's take these out. – With this little spatula guy. – [Gabrielle] Loosen the edges a little bit. – Give it a nice little shake here. – Oh yeah! – Now we're gonna take a little bit of nappage here, glaze my pineapple there, and I'm even gonna do a drip on top of my nuts like that. I tend to put icing sugar on everything, or confectioner's sugar. I just like how it looks. – Mm. Gorgeous. – Ooh! I see the chunks. – It's not so wet, it's not gummy. But it's very good to eat. – And this is my banana bread. [pleasant music] [dramatic crash] – And here is my tahini dark chocolate chunk gluten-free banana bread. [pleasant music] [dramatic crash] – Pan de Platano, or Caribbean plantain bread. [dramatic crash] [pleasant music] – Looks pretty good. – Oh yeah. – Mm. That's good. – Super moist, just the way I like it. Nice and sweet but not too sweet. – It's got so many chunks in it. Yay, I'm so happy! It turned out so good. – All in all, pretty good result. Mm. Pan de Platano. [dramatic crash] – Banana bread is a quick bread that's a popular and delicious way to use overripe bananas. Let's see what each of our three chefs did with their recipes. [dramatic music] We use bananas as a fruit, but botanically, they're actually a type of berry. Although they're distinctive in taste, bananas share one of the main aromatic compounds you also find in cloves, called eugenol. Eugenol is a colorless compound found in a number of essential oils and often used in perfumery. – This smells so good. – When unripe, bananas are green with a hard flesh and a very starchy, slightly sour taste. – These aren't even gonna be that sweet yet. – As bananas ripen, the flesh becomes soft, smooth and sweet due to amyl acetate and esters that develop. If left to become overripe, the peel gets very dark and the flesh becomes soft and sometimes darkens due to the browning enzyme called polyphenol oxidase. Jon and Gabrielle used overripe bananas because they're mild, sweet and soft. And very easy to blend into the batter with a whisk like Jon did, or a fork like Gabrielle did. This is a great way to use bananas that are at the end of their life. – It's really a lovely little lifecycle of a banana. – [Rose] Sim used plantains to give his dish a Caribbean flair. – It's not banana bread, it's not the same. – Like bananas, plantains are botanically classified as seedless berries, but are different from bananas in that they retain their starchiness even when they're ripe. So while the plantain's peel may be black, indicating ripeness, they're still very dry and starchy inside, with some astringency. Plantains are lower in sugar than bananas and usually aren't eaten raw like their banana cousins due to their high starch content. [dramatic music] Jon's batter was classic, simple, and delicious. He prepared his pan with a cooking spray. It allows the banana bread to release easily from the pan once it's cooled. He used a simple muffin mixing method, which means he mixed all of his dry ingredients except the sugar, and separately mixed the wet ingredients with the white sugar, and then combined the two with minimal mixing. – Simple mix with a fork. – He relied on baking powder as his leavener. Baking powder for homemade recipes is really called sodium aluminum sulfate phosphate. It reacts and produces sulfuric acid when it's combined with wet ingredients, and then converts the sulfuric acid to carbon dioxide when it's heated during baking. It's the carbon dioxide that leavens the batter and gives that nice, tender crumb. Gabrielle prepared her pan with parchment paper and brushed it with coconut oil. It's a gluten-free cake, so there's no wheat-based flour. Instead, Gabrielle uses gluten-free flour. – If you were to give this to someone and not tell them it was gluten-free, no chance they would know. – Gluten-free flour is a combination of starches that are pulverized to make the consistency of all-purpose flour. It often contains starches from beans, rice, tapioca, potatoes, sorghum, and cellulose. Cellulose is a starch derived from indigestible wood and plant cell walls. Gabrielle also used brown sugar instead of white sugar that Jon used. White sugar adds straight sweetness, while brown sugar adds more complex mineral caramel flavors to Gabrielle's banana bread. She also added tahini, which is made from ground, toasted sesame seeds, and adds a nutty, coffee-like flavor to her banana bread. – I think that that's just kind of the element that's bringing everything together. – Sim's Caribbean-inspired banana bread was started by roasting his plantains with butter, sugar, and rum. This softens and sweetens his plantains which is necessary for this starchy fruit. Sim also roasted his pecans, which brought out roasted flavors and made them darker due to the Maillard reaction. He used a combination of baking soda and powder to give extra porosity to his final product. This is a heavy and dense batter so it's good to add both. The orange juice that he added adds a bright citrus note and acts as the necessary acid along with molasses on the brown sugar, and the starter culture. This starter culture is not needed here, since there's enough acid from the orange juice and the brown sugar to make the baking soda react. – This isn't really important, but it does make a nice addition. – Sim added it because it gave a tangy quality to his banana bread. [dramatic music] Jon added chopped walnuts for texture and a richness that comes from this high-fat nut. – Something about the nuts and the banana bread just go really hand in hand. – Gabrielle added semisweet chocolate that she chipped from bars. These misshapen shards of chocolate melt beautifully in layers. The chocolate and the tahini are delicious together and create a unique and sumptuous flavor in her banana bread. – The tahini is so subtle. If you didn't know, you wouldn't think it was in there. – Sim added candied ginger, giving his banana bread a warm, spicy sweetness. It also adds a bit of crunch, because the sugar is crystallized. [dramatic music] Jon keeps it classic with a dusting of granulated sugar on top. The temperature of the bread never gets hot enough to fully melt the crystalline sugar, so it retains its crunchy structure. – The sugary topping on top, oh my god, it's so good. – Gabrielle sliced a banana in half lengthwise and placed it gently on top of her batter with white sesame seeds sprinkled on top. – Doesn't have to be super ripe. You can use a normal banana for this. – This gives a hint as to what's in the banana bread. Sim added sliced pineapple to one loaf, keeping with his Caribbean theme, and pecans to the other loaf. He brushed his garnish with– – Nappage. Tastes pretty good. – Which gives a classic shine and added sweetness. And finished it with a very light dusting of powdered sugar. [dramatic music] Jon baked his banana bread for an hour at 325 degrees in a traditional nine by five loaf pan. This ensures that the center of his dense batter bakes without burning the outside. Gabrielle baked her banana bread for 45 minutes at 350 degrees in a traditional nine by five loaf pan. She had extra-rich ingredients in her bread like tahini, honey, almond meal and almond milk, so she needed the higher temperature to dehydrate her batter. Sim baked his in smaller pans for 35 to 40 minutes at 350 degrees. Plantains are lower in water and higher in starch compared to bananas, so they don't require as long of a cooking time to dry the bread. – It's not quite as wet as your regular banana bread. – Banana bread is a treat from start to finish. Next time you have bananas that would be better off in a batter, I hope you'll consider some of our three chefs' ideas to make it your own. – Hey Gabrielle. – Oh, Andy! – Yeah. – Hey guys. – Come on in! I would love for you to try this, yes. – I would love to try it. – Please do. [laughing]. – Huh? – That's really good. – Uh huh. Well, I have a little secret for you. – What's that? – It is gluten-free. – We're not gonna air this, right? Fine, I'll just finish this. – Mr. Non Gluten-Free himself. – This'll be our secret. 'Cause I have an image to maintain of being anti-gluten-free stuff. But this is good.

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