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#man if there's anything i love about tumblr it's reading the most exotic expressions of appreciation
amerricanartwork · 3 months
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Every time I see your art I want to crunch it like hard candy/pos
Thank you! I put lots of effort into making appealing art! In fact I often don't accept anything less!
Also I interpreted "hard candy" as rock candy initially (I guess my brain forgot that suckers and peppermints and jawbreakers and whatnot exist) so, uh... I made this little sketch based on it!
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Here's some more art to crunch on!
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ancano · 4 years
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YoI Fanfic Recs
Okay so I just wanna share some love and show y’all some amazing fanfics that I have personally read and absolutely adored!! You’ll likely see repeated authors, either cuz I follow them on tumblr or cuz I’ll raid their uploads once I find one I really like. Also apparently I read a lot of A/B/O so if that isn’t your thing sorry hhhhhh
No particular order for these, just going down my bookmarks and history lists on ao3
Glitter & Gold by plisetskytrash and victurius (I just caught up with this one and oh my god I love it.) Summary - In a world where drugs, sex, and violence rule, Viktor Nikiforov is the king. As the Pakhan of the Russian Mafia (the Bratva) he is responsible for murder and mayhem across multiple continents and that’s just the way he likes it. The only problem is that a new leader has risen to power in America – known only as ‘JJ’ – and he starts to intrude on Viktor’s territory.Not only is that rude, it’s damn right unacceptable.So, Viktor sets out to find out as much about JJ as he can, including infiltrating the businesses he owns, such as The Kiss and Cry, a sleazy club that works as a front for an exclusive exotic omega strip club that only the richest and most powerful men can access. Naturally, Viktor has no trouble getting inside. Once he’s there, however, his plans are thrown out of the window when he spots a beautiful, young Japanese omega with chocolate-brown eyes and an ass to die for. There’s only one problem: Viktor swore he’d never mate an omega.Will Viktor manage to stay focused on his mission? Or will this omega break Viktor’s most important rule?
Eros and Agape by ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl and Spunky0ne (you’ll see a couple works from these guys in this list because they are *chef’s kiss* amazing) Summary - For as long as Victor can remember, Yakov and Lilia have protected him from being discovered to be an Omega by helping him to project as an Alpha. But at the Grand Prix Final banquet, he comes face to face with the man destined to be his husband.
NEXT LEVEL: Nights After Dreams by RipVanGabriel (this is a LONG one, I haven’t even gotten very far in it, but trust me it’s worth it) Summary -  The silver medal was hard fought and won, but now the stakes are higher than ever. Five gold medals loom on the horizon, but more importantly, the "life and love" within the gold rings. Yuri and Viktor's relationship grows as they get back on the competition road, and new complications rise with them. (Proper follow-up to the TV series; not AU, no crack ships, no weird shit.)
Wait! But, I’m not Yakuza! by ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl, SesshomaruFreak, and Spunky0ne (like I said, these guys, *chef’s kiss* I refuse to admit how many times I’ve reread the 2 chapters that are currently posted. I’m also the only person commenting on it last i checked which is a fucking shame, so y’all go comment on this amazing fic pls) Summary - The Katsuki family, except for the Hasetsu Katsukis, are the largest and most powerful Yakuza family in Japan, so it’s not surprising that poor Yuuri keeps getting mistaken for one of his distant relatives. On a trip to Russia with his father, Yuuri stumbles into a bar to avoid a group of rough looking punks, and he comes face to face with a beautiful, silver-haired exotic dancer. Things get crazy when Yuuri sees the lovely dancer being abused and steps in, only to get himself beaten into unconsciousness. He wakes in his hotel room and finds a note next to his bed…”Thank you for your kindness. I’m sorry those ruffians hurt you. It’s better you stay away. I don’t want anything else bad to happen to you. Vitya” He should go home. He should just forget the man, but Yuuri can’t help himself…Victuuri, intersex Victor, intersex pregnancy, lots of flustered Yuuri!
Love’s Requiem by Kashoku (gonna be honest, I don’t even ship Yuuri/Yuri, but I enjoy this fic) Summary -  If you had asked Yuuri in Barcelona if there was anything that could ever bring him down from the high of being with Viktor Nikiforov, he would have laughed. But when the living legend suffers a career ending injury, it brings new struggles to their relationship. Viktor begins to drown his sorrows, and Yuuri finds himself being pulled beneath the surface in a way he’s not sure he can survive.
you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be by roserelease (this shit right here is my fucking bread and butter y’all. I can’t even express how much happiness and love this fic gives me) Summary - More than anything, Yuuri wants to impress his cosplay role model Viktor Nikiforov. But after a horrible start to a convention weekend, he panics and backs out at the last second to meet his idol. Normally this would be fine, except Yuuri discovers too late that there's a little Viktor related secret inside the con vlog his best friend filmed over the course of the weekend for him...It's fine, he thinks. Embarrassing, but not the end of the world. And it's not like Viktor himself will ever see the con vlog, so why worry?(Except then Viktor does.)
Paying For Poison by SaerenDPity (another one of my absolute faves that sadly only updates once every other blue moon but when it does update I feel overwhelmingly Blessed) Summary - "Skater Katsuki?" Yuuri's eyes widened as he nodded, and suddenly Viktor Nikiforov was clutching at his coat. He barely registered that his childhood hero knew his name, he couldn't think on that when Viktor's voice was on the edge of breaking. Desperation lined his every movement."Yes th-that's me. Um… Mr. Nikiforov… Do… do you need help?"Viktor shook his head violently and shoved his hand into Yuuri's pocket. Yuuri only had time to squeak before Viktor was backing away, breathing heavily. "Please… please buy me."…Years after Viktor Nikiforov suddenly disappeared from the public eye, he resurfaces at the Rostelecom Cup, desperate for help. And Yuuri simply cannot abandon the man who inspired almost every aspect of his life, and so, he makes the decision to do just as Viktor asks - buy his services as an omega for one night.
Drowning In Your Love by MysticLipstick (another rarely updated fic that I’m head over heels for. please feed me, I need MORE) Summary -  Victor Nikiforov has always gotten away with being a whore in college. Being the top athlete swimmer has gained him tons of attention, championships and girls. However, a cosmic encounter with Yuuri Katsuki has him questioning everything—including his sexuality. Yuuri’s shy nature and blatant disregard for Victor’s fame has Victor chasing him—something he’s never done, but Yuuri shuts him down. Completely.
November’s Secret by LanaBerry (I’ve reread this one about 5 times already tbh) Summary - Overwhelmed with anxiety and his fear of failing, Yuuri faces the issue of if he should continue skating. His best friend, Yuko, proposes a solution - if no one knows it's you, then it's less embarrassing, right? Yuuri begins to create a completely new disguise and persona.But it works a little too well.Before he knows it, Yuuri has become the biggest mystery of the skating world and everyone wants to know who he is. Especially Viktor Nikiforov, the idol he's been loosely basing his new persona on for years.
The ‘Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches’ series by Reiya (recently finished rereading this one, always so fucking good) Summary - ‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’ A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries.Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.
With What We Once Had by MagicalMirai (this one is just too cute tbh) Summary -  They called it quits, over a year and a half ago. But even though he should have been expecting it, Yuuri can’t help but feel suffocated when he bumps into Victor at the Grand Prix final, whilst holding his son. The son... he never told Victor about.
Nerve Endings by Phyona (this one is next on the “to reread” list) Summary -  When Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg, they have to work through Yuuri's anxiety and Victor's secrets to find their balance.
Puppy Love by Phyona (another phyona fic and it’s just way too fucking cute tbh) Summary - When Yuuri gets turned into a dog, the last place he expects to end up is Victor Nikiforov's apartment. He learns quickly that the only thing worse than being his idol's pet, is watching him pine for someone else.Warning: Makkachin has recently passed away at the start of this story.
The Stars on his Cheeks by QueenWinterofLuna (this one was actually written for a prompt I personally requested and I absolutely adore it, even still) Summary -  A short drabble based on this Tumblr request from @napsushi: Can you write a fic where Yuuri discovers Victor has freckles and is just over the moon about it? This fandom needs more freckled Vitya.
This is all I can find and think of for now but if I remember more I’ll be sure to update it!!
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ask-de-writer · 4 years
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LOST TIME (part 1 of 3) A fantasy of Flocking Bay.
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LOST TIME
by
De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)
5556 words
© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck
written 2003
All rights reserved.
Reproduction  in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the  express written consent of the author or proper copyright holder.
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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users
Users  of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in  my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge   for their images.
All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!
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It stands out even in the dark ... It shouldn’t. It’s just a house. A damned old house. Not even that old really, not for New England. It’s a two story salt-box style with an observation deck under a cupola at the peak. It is probably just the setting. Rusty old iron fence, gnarled elderly trees, unkempt lawn not quite out of control, windows that the neighborhood kids haven’t broken. It should be a witch’s house but it isn’t. It is mine. I just closed on it yesterday.
The kids are going to have a field day this time. I don’t like the daylight... been on night shift as far back as I can remember. That’s a longish way back. But I’m not a witch, nor vampire. Nothing exotic that I know of. I’m just one of those people (you probably know one or two) who don’t show their age. If you envy me, think again. YOU try to explain to a traffic cop why your ID has you pegged for seventy+ and you don’t look over twenty. I carry a copy of my fingerprint record from the military, because they can check that.
Funny part of it is, I really don’t have the slightest idea how old I am. Traumatic amnesia the doctors called it, during the war. The head wound was minor, they said.
That is a matter of opinion. It robbed me of my past, my name, my identity, my loves and hates but left my skills intact. I was an empty shell. I am still trying to find my past.
The name that I use comes from more or less modern myth. Vandervekken. The Flying Dutchman. Wandering Dutchman would be more accurate. He sails the seas off the Cape of Good Hope until Judgment Day. He can’t find his home either. I bought the house because it is the first place that I have seen in over fifty years where I want to stay. You explain it.
The rusty gate opened silently, thanks to the bit of oil that I put on the hinges. Going up the uneven walk, between the looming trees is an experience. The door lock is old-fashioned but still works smoothly. Covered furniture could have made ghosts to haunt the place, if I were superstitious or given to being easily frightened.
As I said, I like the night. I even enjoy things with a bit of a spooky atmosphere. I also like antiques and handcrafted things which is why, if I ever find out who did it, I will cheerfully throttle whatever philistine covered the finely inlaid hardwood parquetry floors with battleship gray paint.
Stripping and refinishing those floors was on my priority job list. Actually, I shouldn’t beef too much. Pointing out the problem got me a price reduction of nearly $2000 on an already underpriced house with all of its furniture as part of the deal. Estates can be wonderful when you are on a tight budget. Too bad that someone else had to die to create my good fortune.
As I pulled the dust covers from the furniture, I saw that my good fortune was been complete. It was all sturdy, hand-carved hardwood with Chinese silk brocade upholstery. The furniture alone was worth what I had paid for the house and contents. The tops of even the smallest hall tables were inlaid with rich veneers, ivory and mother of pearl. You couldn’t buy furniture like this any more. Besides the cost, the ivory in the inlays is no longer legal to obtain. I could get as much from the sale of just one or two pieces as I could from a year of writing if I could bring myself to part with any of this treasure. It just feels like the house would not be complete without it.
Whoever it was that had died and left this for me to have has whatever blessings it is in my power to bestow. The only wonder is that this place stayed on the market long enough for me to find it. Usually, deals like this get snapped up by the real-estate brokers before people like me ever see them.
When I got to the kitchen, I received another little jolt. I knew that it was fairly up to date, but some thoughtful soul had stocked the fridge and set out a bit of a snack for me. Just cookies and a glass for the milk, which was staying cold in the cooler. Thoughtful. I wondered who did it.
While munching on the cookies, I opened a few windows to air the place out a bit. Going out to my car, I saw that the flags of the walk needed leveling because of the weeds that grew up between them. I drove around to the alley behind the place, opened the garage and parked Lilitu, my classic pre-war Packard touring car. She looked right at home in there. Few, even of modern garages were big enough for her. I ferried my few personal goods up to the house. On my last trip, I saw a couple of wide-eyed kids looking over the back fence.
“Told ya, told ya so!” one of them chanted. “There’s somebody sneakin’ inta the ol’ Vekin place!”
“I wouldn’t call it sneaking, to move into your own place,” I answered as civilly as I could manage. “I just bought it. Why do you call it the Vekin place?”
“If ya ain’t sneakin’, why ya goin’ in the back way? An’ after dark, too?” she shot back. I could now see that they were a girl and a boy. She was obviously in charge.
“I like nights. I’m a writer, so I can keep any hours I like. Why is it the Vekin place?” I asked again.
“Dun’no - Crazy guy named Vekin used to live there,” she contradicted herself.
“Lot of folks tried to buy the place since then,” the boy piped in.
“But nobody ever stays,” the girl finished for him firmly.
“So, this is the neighborhood’s haunted house?” I inquired jovially.
“No,” was as far as the boy got.
“Its down the street, on t’other side,” she cut in.
“I looked at that one,” I said thoughtfully. “The old Victorian. Somebody’s broken out all the windows. Not like here. If the Vekin house is so bad, why hasn’t some kid chucked rocks at it?”
“‘Cause we’re not THAT crazy!” exclaimed The boy, getting out a whole thought. The girl gave him a push, and they ran off into the night.
I got up about noon, after the most restful night’s sleep that I’d had since the War. After my breakfast and a quiet tour of the place from attic to basement, I went out. My goal was the local newspaper. THE FLOCKING BAY VOICE was sprawled across the plate glass window in Old English style letters of gold leaf and black. Smaller letters proclaimed Est. 1841. I pushed open the door. My nose was assaulted by the multiple odors of printer’s ink, paper and grease. The VOICE occupied one large room. An elderly web press crouched at the back of the space, behind several rolls of newsprint. Cubicles made offices in the middle of the room. An old oak counter that had once seen duty as a bar had several signs suspended over it on thin chains. They read ‘submissions’, ‘advertisements’, ‘subscriptions’, ‘billing’.
There was a bell on the counter. Some wag had put a sign on it, “Please ring bell, it won’t help but it will give you something to do.” I gave myself something to do, energetically, a few times.
A trim little blond lady answered the bell’s summons. She wore a green eyeshade and a pin on her sweater announced, ‘Lois Martin - cook, bottle washer & EDITOR in CHIEF.’ “What can I do for you, today?” she asked.
“I came to see what I can find out about the Vekin place,” I answered, trying not to stare at her.
“Just a moment, I’ll get the file out of the morgue. I was going to get it anyway. Somebody went and bought the place again.”
“Wait a minute,” I protested. “Someone buys a house and that makes news in Flocking Bay? This town must be even quieter than it looks.”
“Oh,” she retorted, “it can get downright interesting around here when the old Vekin place sells. You’ll see.” She disappeared among the cubicles and I heard her feet clattering down a flight of stairs. I heard a file drawer creak and slide, then slam shut. It wasn’t long before she reappeared, a rather fat file clutched in her hand.
“If you’d like, we can have lunch over at Mike’s Soda Shop,” she proposed. “He makes decent submarine sandwiches and real ice-cream sodas.”
“Well ... ” I pretended to hesitate, “I haven’t been invited out by a beautiful blond in a long time, so, yes.”
“I hope that I haven’t just made a fool of myself,” she remarked, laying aside the eyeshade. “You are Mr. Vandervekken aren’t you? The man who just bought the place?”
“Too true,” I said.
“Then I’ll make it an interview and deduct it from my taxes,” she smiled.
“You make enough to pay taxes?” I asked, looking back as we crossed the street.
“I have hidden assets. The paper is a tax shelter.” She opened the door of Mike’s and ushered me in.
As I was seating her, I just couldn’t help blurting out, “Your assets seem to be pretty obvious.”
She grinned, “Go ahead and stare. I don’t mind. If I did, I wouldn’t wear a snug sweater and put my pin just here.” She pointed, then added, “Looking at it will keep you off your guard while I ask my questions.”
“OK, Ms. Martin, but let me look at the file first. You can order for me. You know the food here,” I said, reaching for the file.
“Lois,” she replied, “call me Lois, everyone else does.” Then she hollered to the man behind the counter, “Oh, Mike! Two butterscotch sodas and a big turkey sub! Divide it in half!”
“How did you know that I liked butterscotch?” I asked. “It’s not that common a preference these days.”
“I just had a hunch, that’s all. You looked like another butterscotch type person.”
I was leafing through the file on the rather beat-up table while we waited. I couldn’t resist snorting with amusement at the name of the house’s builder. Capt. Von Der Vekin. The house had been built in 1894 by the Capt. and his elusive son, Charles. Nobody had ever seen Charles until he came into town, on April 1st, 1900, to report his father’s demise and burial on the property. He ordered a headstone hewn of the local limestone. Charles had returned from WW I with honors and lived quietly, claiming to be a writer, though nobody ever saw any of his work in print. When asked, all that he would say was ‘Pseudonyms are great for privacy’. He was not so lucky when he volunteered to assist the French resistance in 1939. He never came home.
Next==>
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queen-of-the-crows · 7 years
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11 Questions Tag
Okay so I was tagged by like 5 different people and I'm just gonna answer all in one post cause that's the easiest way to do it. Huge thank you to all my loves who tagged me in this @annorarutherford @heraldofwho @sassylavellen @enchantment1385 (twice :P) @elevanetheirin :)
Buckle up cause this is gonna be a long ride!
@annorarutherford questions
1. Biggest fear? Feeling like I've done nothing with my life and that I've been a failure
2. Favorite flower/plant? I'm not a nature person, that's just not my thing but a black rose
3. Are you close to your family? Sorta, some of them anyway, depends on alot honestly
4. Your deepest wish? Not to be rich but to be able to pay all my bills and still have a good amount of money left over to save and buy fun stuff
5. What's something that always calms you? No one thing always works, it depends on why I'm not calm. Video games work often, some times reading, sometimes writing, sometimes drinking
6. Some movies you love? Love this question! Jaws, Jurassic Park series, Alien series, Beauty and the Beast, Dracula, The Crow, and many others
7. Guilty pleasure song? I'm not really ashamed of anything I listen to but alot of people judge me for loving Fall Out Boy so I'll say anything by them, I have an entire playlist
8. Favorite weird smell? Professional hair color, I fucking love it. Also the green soap they use in tattoo shops
9. Game that has changed your life and how? Dragon Age. It introduced me to my love of gaming and are me fall in love with Thedas and the characters
10. Someone(s) on Tumblr you really admire/like? All my usual lovelies of course @annorarutherford @a-shakespearean-in-paris @sassylavellen @enchantment1385 @aban-asaara @heraldofwho also love seeing posts from @jawsandbones @andrastini @fyeahfenrisxfhawke @laraslandlockedblues @nevertrustamage and others
11. Worst personality traits someone can have? Always down on themselves, put down everyone around them, bad hygiene! (Not a personality trait but seriously bathe), being insanely cocky and thinking they can get whoever they want
@heraldofwho questions
1. When you get butterflies in your stomach what color are they? Blues and purples
2. If spiders could talk what would their voices sound like? I think they'd sound alot like Flemeth
3. How do you like your coffee or tea? In the trash lol I hate them both
4. If you could learn any language instantly, which one would you choose? Oh man, there's so many cool ones. Probably Russian, I love the sound of it
5. If they made a DA/ME film or series about YOUR protagonist- which OC would you choose and who should play them? Oh shit, I love them all so much!!! Probably Clea cause I think her and Zevran's story would be the most interesting. I would cast Megan Fox as Clea, she's my face claim for her and she plays a pretty good badass.
6. What change the nature of a person? Anything really depending on the person, death seems to be a big one, break ups, being broken
7. What musical instrument do you play? What instrument would you like to learn? I play piano and I sing. I'd like to have a piano so I can practice more but I wanna learn guitar also
8. Pick any aspect of your life or personality and choose a theme song for it. You Call Me A Bitch Like Its A Bad Thing by Halestorm because I'm very much fuck you and your opinions of me, i don't find being called a bitch insulting
9. Can you cook or bake? What's your speciality? I love baking and I can cook too. Cakes are my favorite thing to make
10. Got any dead crushes? Heath Ledger, Brandon Lee, Paul Walker, and Gary Oldman (I mean him in Dracula is to die for)
11. What is your quirkiest hobby or interest? I don't have many so probably writing fanfic
@sassylavellen questions
1. Do you have a favorite soundtrack from a movie or video game? Oh yes, Queen of the Damned. Best soundtrack ever created
2. What was the first video game you remember playing? Either Super Smash Bros or Mario Kart way back on Game Cube
3. If you could have any kind of food right now what would it be? Chocolate cake or Panda Express, maybe both
4. Are you a good cook? Oh yes
5. Do you have or want any exotic pets? I would love to have an iguana. Snakes are cool too
6. What fictional character would you love to be friends with? Oh so many, strictly friends with no somatic interest: Dorian, Varric, Cassandra, Shale, Charlie from Supernatural, The Doctor, Lisbeth Salandar, and Scout Harding
7. If you could have any superpower what would it be? Telekinesis and mind control
8. What movie could you watch and enjoy every single time? So many. Jurassic Park, Jurassic World, and Big Hero 6 are probably my tops though
9. Favorite color combinations? Black crimson and white, black grey and blue, black and deep purple, basically dark combinations
10. When you play games do you use armor sets that have good stats but looks bad or armor that looks good with bad stats? Definitely looks good with bad stats but I keep the ugly with good stats to change into for particularly challenging encounters. I love the story aspect of games and put so much time into my characters I like them to look good
11. Favorite genre of music? Rock and metal. KoRn and Rob Zombie are my absolute favorites if that helps explain it
@enchantment1385 first set of questions
1. Favorite fandom and why? Dragon Age. Best game series ever, the characters, the play through, the environment, the choices, the romance. And the people I interact with here are amazing
2. What's your Pokemon team? I played Black 2 so my favorite team was Zoroark, Arcanine, Banette, Lapras, Hydreigon, and Virizion
3. Favorite team in Dragon Age or Mass Effect? Depends on my class honestly but my favorite is dual weapon rogue so I'll answer for that. Origins- Alistair, Morrigan, either Shale or Zevran. DA2- Fenris, Aveline, either Varric or Anders or Merrill. Inquisition- Cassandra, Dorian, either Cole or Iron Bull
4. Favorite nonBioware game? Dishonored
5. OTP? Alistair and Cousland, Zevran and Mahariel, Fenris and Hawke, Cullen and Lavellan. None DA OTPs Mulder and Scully, Elizabeth Swan and Will Turner, Emma Swan and Captain Hook, Rose Tyler and the 10th Doctor
6. What is your guilty pleasure? I really don't have one that I know. Reading smutty fan fic maybe?
7. A food you can't get enough of? Cheese pizza, mac and cheese, spaghetti
8. What can you see right now? I'm in class so classroom stuff
9. Something I don't know about you? Alot. I'm coloring my hair white, I have a huge Fenris and femhawke in progress back piece, I'm in cosmetology school, I have a tattoo appointment with Sarah Miller
10. Most loved OC and why? As hard as it to choose between all my loves, I choose Clea. She's the most like me or rather I see the most of myself in her and that was an accident. I love her attitude, her sarcasm, her badassness, her relationship with Zevran, her goals, how she carries herself and how she just is.
11. What song is stuck in your head right now? Hold Me Tight Or Don't by Fall Out Boy
@enchantment1385 second set of questions
1. What does your name mean? Do you think the meaning is anything like you? Like our usernames? Queen of the Crows is a reference to Clea who takes over the Antivan Crows with Zevran and they do some reforming of the guild. She's one of the leaders so she's the queen of the Antivan Crows, hence queen of the Crows. Is that anything like me? Well I mean she's my OC and I'm alot like her so I would hope to be that badass if I was in Thedas.
2. First celebrity crush? Max Thieriot, he's still good looking too
3. If you could live in one fictional world, which one would you choose and why? Come on love, guess :P lol definitely Thedas. Learn archery and dual wield, find one of my favorite romances and fall in love. Oh yes! Second choice would be Westoros provided I could be with Jon Snow of course
4. Why did the chicken cross the road? His life bored him and he needed change
5. You can have one superpower, what do you choose? Answered this already but since this says only 1 I choose telekinesis
6. Biggest pet peeve? When people can't do simple things
7. 1 fictional character you would meet for a day if you could? Hmmmm I wanna meet alot. If I only have a day I think I'd choose Iron Bull, I'd be in for an adventure all day
8. First game you ever completed? Dishonored
9. Which class in game do you enjoy playing the most? Definitely rogue. Idk what it is but I love rogues especially dual weapon although I've recently gotten into playing archery as well
10. Favorite fictional villain and why? I love Maleficient. She turns into a fucking Dragon and is bitter for not being invited to a party. And the movie really goes into depth about how she became how she was and it shows that good people can be broken so badly they become bitter heartless and evil
11. Creepiest experience? I'm not really sure, I try to avoid that sort of thing. I've been hit on by creepy weirdos though
@elevanetheirin questions
1. Coffee or tea? I hate them both. I'm a soda junkie though and love energy drinks
2. What is your favorite book or book series? I have a few. Dracula (this is my all time favorite), A Song of Ice and Fire by George R R Martin (aka GoT series), Millennium series by Stieg Larsson (Girl with the Dragon Tattoo), Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and The Meg series by Steve Alten
3. Do you have a hidden talent? Most people don't know I can play piano
4. Who is your favorite author? George R R Martin, Steve Alten, Michael Crichton, Ellen Hopkins, Stieg Larsson
5. Favorite type of cookie? Chocolate chip, I know I'm boring
6. Brotp? Varric and Hawke, Sara Lance and Mick Rory, Meredith Grey and Alex Kerev, Sherlock and Watson, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner
7. Did you have a nickname in school? I've never really had a nickname ever. My love in high school called me his muse cause he's an artist. Lots of classmates called me that weird goth girl cause I was always quiet, very smart, read for fun, and was goth.
8. Do you have resting bitch face? Oh fuck yes I do haha I love it though
9. What makes you smile? Alot. My stupid cats, my boyfriend, my favorite shows and movies, funny gaming videos, video games, reading, SLEEP, FOOD
10. What one thing do you like most about yourself? The fact that I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks about me. Looks wise probably my eyes
11. The best part of your day yesterday? Getting paid so I had money for chicken nuggets
Finished them all!!!! My 11 questions
1. If you could switch places with one fictional character who would it be and why? (Besides your OCs)
2. If you could choose one fictional character to be your love interest forever who would it be and why?
3. Least favorite video game you've ever played?
4. How did you get introduced into the Dragon Age fandom?
5. Which of your OCs is the most like you and how?
6. If you could only watch one genre of movie for the rest of your life which one would you choose?
7. One tattoo you plan on getting someday?
8. Xbox, PlayStation, or PC?
9. Do you have any exes you would take back if they ever asked?
10. Favorite quest in the Dragon Age series?
11. Favorite ship or OTP?
I'm not tagging anyone cause most you already tagged me but if you wanna answer my questions then go for it!
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gplusbfics · 7 years
Link
Came across this excellent short essay I’d bookmarked on the episode “Inquisition” as well as Alexander Siddig’s role as Julian Bashir and the several ways DS9 was ahead of its time. It’s over on AO3, as part of a long series of reviews, and I’m linking to it, but in the interest of having it shared and discussed here on Tumblr, I’m posting it in its entirety below.
- Wendy 
I Read It So You Don't Have To: Book Reviews, Television and Film Ratings, and Short Media Essays by tb_ll57
Chapter 9: Star Trek: Deep Space 9 (Series 6, Episode 18)
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You know, I once spent money on DVD sets. It's sort of annoying that it's all on the internet now. I mean I bought it for the Extras, and joining all the dots it's a good thing I had the DVDs as those VHS tapes really didn't last too long, but still.
Anyway, it's incredibly refreshing to watch a show like DS9 and realise how amazing and thoroughly good television can be. DS9 has a lot of the usual Star Trek faults in its early series, but something happened to it around Series 4. It transformed into a heavily serialised, character-orientated storytelling and cinematic art form. Each episode became a mini-movie; the production values are fantastic, down to the carefully plotted camera shots, the rhetorical flourish of the snappy dialogue, the narrative that built larger and larger arcs and yet was never afraid of a call-back. There's very few shows on today that match the quality of those 1990s types of shows; the sheer dedication long-form narrative is probably unparalleled in today's mainstream television format. It requires and expects a commitment from the audience that producers seem to fear these days. The Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, and other American cable series are reaching for the same thing, but it's almost quintessentially anti-British. I imagine it has a lot to do with budget, but it also seems to be a cultural artefact. British television lends itself well to shorter series, episodic plotting, and set-pieces rather than long-form character development. When we try to go American, we end up with Downton Abbey, and I'm sure I speak for many at this point in time when I say we quite wish we wouldn't.
Then, too, DS9 was politically prescient. Did you know that DS9 invented both the Anti-Terrorism, Crime and Security Act (UK)-cum-Patriot Act (USA) and the rendition of Arab men to black-site prisons? It's true. I'm talking about, of course, the excellent episode 'Inquisition'. 'Inquisition' is one of the best of DS9's episodes, reaching almost unsurpassed heights of tension, character development, narrative twists, and sheer Aristotlean prowess of conflict creation.
It builds on a character who'd been a little lost in previous series. Dr Bashir was hardly a cypher, but he was more archetype than fully-fleshed human being until about Series 5. 'The Wire' explored Bashir's humanity-- his expansive compassion, with all its consequences and its personal costs-- but we essentially hadn't learnt anything new about Bashir since the pilot. He's a good doctor, he's a nice guy, he's a little arrogant in his abilities and intellect, he's both open-minded and naive in that way of liberal bleeding-heart Star Trek heroes, and... that's about it, until the Series 5 revelation that he's genetically enhanced. Suddenly he's not just those things-- he's those things and a fraud. A liar. A man who's hidden a dangerous and explosive secret for thirty years, perhaps so deeply that he himself didn't even think about it most of the time. But the intimation that Bashir had any kind of depths to him created instantaneous layers. Suddenly the slightly contradictory facts of his childhood come into focus. Suddenly the blank slate of his life previous to his post on DS9 is deliberate, not careless, writing. His friendship with Garak, the consummate outsider, becomes a desperate search for personal truth looking into a mirror of a future of a exile, not a foil of Otherness.
And most importantly of all, Bashir's history of questionable decisions must come into new light. He's not just a naif with a youthful zeal for saving life in all its forms, even his enemies. When you wrangle with that amount of genetically enhanced intelligence, you have to anticipate that he weighed the consequences and chose his path knowing more than you did about how it might end. That's where 'Inquisition' is so brilliant. Julian Bashir is not an easy character-- he was hard to love in the beginning, then hard to beat, and suddenly he's hard to accept as part of the Star Trekparadigm. To confront him within the bounds of that very paradigm-- that truth, that justice, that very rigid moral code that demands an odd kind of obedience to a uniform way of life-- Bashir suddenly looks suspicious.
'Inquisition' took everything we knew about Bashir and re-interrogated it. Why is he so dedicated a doctor? Is he really saving lives-- or is he just trying to be better than all of us? Does he express such compassion for aliens and enemies because he views all life as equal, or because he's secretly in sympathy for their Otherness? And for being different, Bashir is interrogated, stripped of his rights, treated like an outsider, vilified by his own command. His Captain, that father figure Sisko, doesn't believe him when he says it's a frame job.
And the show very deliberately puts the audience in the dark. Our sympathy is always with Bashir, but we're allowed to doubt him along with his friends-- to the point where Julian even doubts himself. And suddenly the colourless world of Star Trek has a dark-skinned man being accused by white police of complicity in a war with religious and imperial overtones; he's a spy, he's a liar, he's taking advantage of our open society to bring us down from within. Julian Bashir becomes a literal darkness within Star Trek's pristine lightness. The layers in 'Inquisition' are amazing. Remember, too, that this was written in 1996. An Arab character gets accused of being a sleeper agent and, when the accusation builds to the right pitch of hysteria, the white policeman accusing him uses an executive order of unimaginable reach and power to remove Bashir from his right to counsel and protection to a secret prison to undergo enhanced interrogation techniques. Damn, Star Trek.
But that's not the end. Bashir's innocence is perhaps never truly in doubt. While we wonder and while we view him in a new light and while Bashir himself is pushed, eventually, to admit that he's made decisions that he wouldn't take back but which understandably place him outside the realm of Star Trek's bright moral universe, we know in our hearts he's not an evil man. So the revelation that he's actually innocent is no real shock. What is-- and here's where 'Inquisition' goes from good episode to great episode-- is that the same qualities that cast Julian into shame and doubt are the qualities that make him a perfect spy for real. Julian gets an offer to join Star Trek's equivalent of MI5, or the KGB, or the CIA-- and being the wonderful Julian Bashir that he is, he of course refuses.
And then-- when this goes from being a great episode to a fantastic episode-- his captain orders him to join them anyway. To spy on them from within as a double agent.
It's important to remember that the Original and Next Generation Star Treks would never have risked something so dark, something so grey-edged, and something that implied such serialisation. Picard would have thundered and clashed with his admirals and reamed them all out at episode's end. Sisko admits that Section 31 exists and decides to go after it-- but not on his own terms. He puts his crew in danger to do it. And Julian is a particularly vulnerable character, for all the reasons 'Inquisition' has just explained. There's very little protection for Julian if he does as he's ordered, and his grim, confused expression at the end suggests he knows it. And knows that for all the reasons he's vulnerable, he also has to do as he's told. He's too suspicious if he doesn't provide his commanders reasons to trust him.
Alexander Siddig has gone on to play a range of Arab-ish baddies since he's left Star Trek, in the post-terrorism age. It's interesting to look back at Star Trek and recall that he was cast not as an Arab doctor, nor even as an English one; in the peculiarly American slant that Star Trek always had, Bashir was merely a little exotic, but almost blandly so, a little high-class but not identifiably so, a little foreign, but still totally familiar. And he was cast in foil to Elim Garak, the most obvious 'Outsider' that ever was, so the image of a brown-skinned doctor born to lower-class parents who enhanced their physically and mentally retarded child is all too easily lost against the background of aliens and lost souls. But I think Bashir was one of Sid's best creations: someone fully human, maybe even super-human-- enhanced, yes, but also superlatively sensitive to the demands of humanity because he knew better than most how easy it is to be stripped of that humanity. In the most haunting line of 'Dr Bashir, I Presume?', Bashir says to his father, 'You're not my father. You're my architect.' 'Inquisition' preys on every fear we have about our own foolish youth, our rash actions, our innermost doubts about our identity and our inclusiveness and our ability to be related to by our fellow humans. At the end of the day, we want to be believed in. It's all too easy for that facade to crumble.
[ original source: AO3 ]
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The Cupid’s Arrow (Revised Edition): Chapter 1
Characters:  Nine x rose; Original Character
Rated: Teen-Adult
Tags: Fluff; Angst; Humour; Aphrodisiac
Summary: Rose convinces the Doctor to take her to "Planet Valentine" for a lark.
Notes: For @caedmonfaith, who has told me this one of her favourite stories of mine. ((((hugs)))) darling.
I have been meaning to tidy this story up for a while now! What better occasion than this year's Valentine's Day. (No major revisions; just housekeeping.) The original will stand as it is, as part of my Domestic Bliss series.
Second half to be posted tomorrow!.(This revised edition will only be posted here, on AO3 and on Tumblr.)
Also read at: AO3
The Cupid’s Arrow (Revised Edition): Chapter 1
“Honestly, Rose! The things I do for you! Your Nan’s birthday!” the Doctor whinged.
“Well, you could just drop me off, and come back for me later…,” Rose nervously fingered her cheek, “but I wouldn’t mind the company. ‘S not exactly gonna be a wild party.” She rolled her eyes. “And it would be better with two.” She coyly bumped her shoulder against his leather-clad arm, and flashed him her Rose Tyler-patented tongue-touched smile.  
“I suppose…” he began, and Rose’s grin widened significantly. She had him: hook, line, and sinker. “But I’m not going to sit there and listen to some old biddies prattling on about their knitting patterns or what happened on EastEnders yesterday.”
“Nah, don’t worry, Doctor. We’ll lay low, yeah. And we can play that game.  You know, the one we played at that booooring convention on Mugwarf:  “Guess the Alien”. I’m sure loads of Nan’s friends could easily be mistaken for aliens. Very dangerous, old ladies are… There’s one – oh my God! – I swear she’s a Raxicori… um Racico… Slitheen! I’ll be lookin’ for the zipper, I will!”
“Hmmph,” he grumbled grudgingly. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Rose Tyler,” he performed his dance around the TARDIS console flipping switches in a seemingly random sequence as she watched, bemused, “I will never quite understand the human proclivity to commemorate certain dates! You lot and your need to compartmentalize everything into neat, little categories!  A lot of fuss over nothing, if you ask me!”
“Yeah, well we like it,” she proclaimed.  “Gives order to things. This travellin’s excitin’ and all (I love it, Doctor!) but it gets so… timeless sometimes, yeah. Now and then I feel like I need somethin’, you know… real to hold onto… to keep me from goin’ spare.”
He responded by grabbing her hand, entwining their fingers. “You have me.”
“Yeah, I do,” she beamed up at him, stunned by his rather significant little statement, and pressed her cheek gently against the cool leather of his sleeve, breathing in the comforting scent of him.
“Hold on tight, Rose,” he warned as, still gripping her hand, he flipped the final lever that sent the TARDIS spinning wildly through the vortex.
--oOo--
Several hours later, hands swinging, linked between them, they walked back to the TARDIS from the Tyler flat, chattering cheerfully to one another. “Blimey, Doctor! I nearly weed myself when old Tessie pinched your cheek and told you what a handsome young man you were!” Rose burst into gales of laughter. “If she only knew!”
“Oh, laugh all you want, little ape.” His expression suddenly sobered. “I’m just relieved Jackie didn’t have a go at me.” He subconsciously lifted his hand to his cheek.
Rose just laughed the louder, taking advantage of his insecurity. “I swear Tessie fancies you! And it’s nearly Valentine’s Day, Doctor,” she sing-songed. “Maybe she wants you to be her Vaaaalentine, yeah? What d’ya think, Doctor? She’s nearly your age and all!”
“You can shut up now, you!” he reproved with a growl, dropping her hand.
Rose felt her heart sink at the loss of the strong, reassuring grip, an enduring symbol of their friendship since the first day they had met. She was silent for a long moment, her mood turning sullen. When she finally spoke, it was in a sour tone: “Now there’s a rubbish celebration…” The disagreeable subject fit rather well with her change in mood.
“What’s that?”
“Valentine’s Day! One human date we could very well do without commemorating!” she huffed, stuffing her hands into her pockets.
“Why’s that, then? Ricky forget to bring you chocolates and flowers?” he taunted, a possessive smirk curling his lips. He reached for her hand again, and gave a disgruntled snort when he found it absent. Rose kept it pointedly tucked in her jacket.  
“It’s jus’, ya know, it sets people up with a lot of false expectations. It’s forced.  It’s fake. And all the pressure: what to give; how much to give; and who really wants chocolate and roses and dumb poetry anyway? And, then, when you don’t have someone to celebrate with… it’s so lonely, yeah.”  She pulled her hand out and linked her arm through his, her lips twitching up a little when she heard him release a self-satisfied sigh.
“And to think, your lot created a planet entirely dedicated to Saint Valentine and his day.”
“No way! You’re takin’ the mick! Really?”
“Oh yes, Rose. You intrepid little humans, you forge your way out across the galaxy, bringing all of your traditions and customs with you. There must a special planet for every Old Earth holiday, and then some! Species from all around come to partake in human traditions! It’s a huge tourist industry. Just imagine!” He pulled out his key to open the TARDIS door, and let Rose step in ahead of him.
“You’re serious?”
“Yup!”
“Prove it.”
“What? Now?”
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Nope. You?”
“Of course not, Rose. Time Lord, remember?”
“Well then, Time Lord… take me to this Valentine’s planet.”
“Thought you hated Valentine’s Day.”
“I do. But this might be good for a lark.  Could be fun: people watching. Guessing what their relationships are, yeah.  Married; first date; newly-weds. Like that!”  
“Rose Tyler, you and your games! Alright, then, you asked for it.” He strode to the console and began to set the coordinates. “But I’m warning you. Stay away from love potions and aphrodisiacs of any kind. Let me taste anything you plan to eat. My sensitive taste buds can detect any of them, and,” he grinned cheekily at her, “my superior physiology can neutralize them in record time!”
“You really think you’re so impressive, don’t you?”
“I am!  And most importantly, no wandering off. All I need is a lovesick Rose Tyler on my hands. Bad enough as it is, sullying the TARDIS with all your domestics: trips home to see Mummy; grocery shopping; laundry…”
“Oi, you invited me! Twice!”
“All I’m saying is that I want you to be safe, Rose.”
She gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “I know, Doctor. Let’s go, yeah?  I’ll be careful, promise.”
--oOo--
Rose poked her head out the TARDIS doors. “Doctor, this is soooo cheesy! Raining rose petals? Really?”
“Not too late to turn back…” The Doctor peered out distastefully at the red, pink, and white glitter that was Planet Valentine.
“No chance! This is brilliant!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him out into the shower of drifting petals. Letting go of him, she twirled around ecstatically in wonder. “Doctor, this may just be enough to make me see Valentine’s day in a whole new light!” She stopped spinning to face him, and found him with an incongruous grin brightening his face. She swore his eyes actually twinkled at her. “W’at? W’at is it Doctor?”
“Oh, c’mon, you.” He switched rapidly to a more surly expression, as was customary when he had been caught looking at her. “Let’s get this over with.” He took her hand again and directed her to what looked like the main street, filled with throngs of creatures representing species from all across the galaxy, although the majority appeared to be human… or human-ish.
Rose observed most of the planet’s visitors walked around in pairs, although a few individuals strolled about, either procuring gifts for a significant other or perhaps seeking companionship.  Then she saw something remarkable: “Doctor? Those blue, glowing people over there… do you see them?”
“Those are Trinitarians, Rose. Their skin begins to glow like that at the peak of their reproductive cycle. Truly beautiful species.”
“Yeah, they are,” Rose sighed in awe at the tall, slender, willowy forms whose skins seemed to dance with shimmering blue radiance. “But there are three of them? Do they need three to reproduce?”
“Blimey! Aren’t you perceptive? Clever!”
“No need to sound so surprised.” Rose couldn’t help but feel miffed by the Doctor’s double-edged compliment, and let it show in the tone of her voice.  
She was aware of the Doctor glancing warily down at her as he forged ahead on the topic of the Trinitarians: “There aren’t many species that need three participants for procreation, but they do. There are a handful of others, too. Mind you, it’s not the most complicated mating system out there. Now, take the Spredifriat-mwooguds from the Delta-Frimori Sector! They–”
“Blimey, that must be a difficult relationship, yeah? Imagine how hard it is, even for us humans. I’ve been searching for ages just to find one decent bloke out there. I can’t imagine how complicated it would be if I needed to find two!” She nestled into his arm again, suddenly needing the comfort of his presence.
“C’mon. How about some hot chocolate?”
“You buyin’? ‘Cause I don’t have any credits.”
“Yeah, ‘course. Still owe you for those chips, don’t I?  If I remember correctly, there’s a little shop just down the street that makes the best hot chocolate in the galaxy. They even put heart-shaped marshmallows in it!”
“So, you come here often, then? To the Valentine planet… the planet of loooove,” she ribbed him.
“Very funny.” He crossed his arms defensively over his chest, and glowered at her. “It just so happens that I’ve had a sweet tooth… in the past. And if you want a chocolate fix, ‘The Cupid’s Arrow’ is the place! They specialize in exotic chocolates from around the universe. Bon-bons and fudge and… ah, but, you mentioned earlier that you didn’t really care for chocolate. I’m probably just wasting your time taking you there.”
“I never said I didn’t like chocolate!” Rose blurted. “Just think they’re a rubbish Valentine gift, s’all.” She flushed at the sight of the smug grin that spread across his face. “Oh shut up and get me some of that hot chocolate. And just for givin’ me that cheek, you can spring for a nice, big piece of fudge, too.”
“Done!”
--oOo--
Hand in hand, they walked into the shop. The décor was flamboyantly tacky: walls, ceiling, and floor painted in a trompe-l’oeil chocolate bar motif. Tables for two hovered on micro-gravity platforms, showers of heart-shaped confetti sprinkling down in a twinkling column over each red and white laced tablecloth. Ultra-high definition holographic cherubs darted around the tables, shooting little holographic arrows at seated customers. Against one wall was an enormous display cabinet with the largest assortment of chocolate sweets Rose had ever seen. Several customers were buying the confections to take away in shiny heart-shaped boxes wrapped in extravagant glittering tulle ribbon.
Rose fought to supress the giggle that threatened to erupt from her throat. “Oh, this place is just so… you!” She broke into howls of laughter, unable to hold in her mirth any longer.
“Just you wait, Rose Tyler,” the Doctor responded with his see-how-clever-I-am smile. “When you taste that hot chocolate for the first time, you’ll understand why I am able to put up with all this. I’ll be waiting for the apology.”
“You’ll be waitin’ a–” Her tart remark was cut off when a tall, wispy alien with purple skin, and a towering, domed head approached them.
“Table for two?” He spoke in a high-pitched, reedy voice, accompanied by a distinct roll of his emerald-green eyes. “As if it would be anything else around here,” he remarked disdainfully.
“Yes, please!” the Doctor chirped, seemingly oblivious to the Maître-d’s acerbic comment.
Rose goggled as the Maître-d’ punched some codes into a touch screen device and led them to a table that descended, confetti stream disengaged, ready for them to board. He pulled a chair out for Rose, and then one beside her for the Doctor. “Please place your order from the menu on the touch screen in the centre of the table. When you wish to disembark, just notify me by tapping the red heart at the top of the screen. Enjoy your stay at ‘The Cupid’s Arrow’. Please leave smitten.”
“Oh, we’re not together… not like that,” Rose announced, sitting down. “Just mates, yeah.”
“Pffffft,” the Maître-d’ hissed, “of course you are. Just look at the two of you! Just like every other couple that comes in here. Sickening really,” he added under his breath.
“Excuse me?” Rose bristled at him. She felt the Doctor tense up in the chair next to her.
The Maître-d’ gave a thin, squeaky gasp, “My sincere, apologies, Miss!”
“’S all right, mate.”  She forced herself to relax and smiled warmly at him. “Sounds like you need a vacation. What’s your name, then? I’m Rose, and this is the Doctor.”
“Hello!” The Doctor waved cheerily.
“I am called Zoorgraps. Please enjoy your refreshment. In just a moment, your table will ascend, and you may place your orders.” His expression, Rose noted, still seemed perturbed and angry, but maybe that was just the way his species was. “If you’ll excuse me…” he whiffled, and drifted off to greet another couple at the door.
Rose opened her mouth to comment on Zoorgraps’ attitude to the Doctor, when she suddenly found herself gripping the sides of her chair in momentary shock as the table began to rise up off the floor. She glanced at the Doctor, a little peeved at his nonchalance, and quickly schooled her features to one of casual indifference. The confetti curtain (holographic also, she noted) resumed its descent around the table. She tried to pass her hands through it and was startled when a mild buzzing resistance impeded her.
“Forcefield,” the Doctor smirked at her, “to prevent us from tumbling to our doom.”
“Oh, well, that makes sense.” She flushed at her naïvety and quickly changed the topic. “So, what are you having?”
“Oh, I’m not hungry.”
“What? You’re going to watch me stuff my face? I don’t think so! Please, Doctor? Anyway, I thought you said you had a sweet tooth.”
“Yeah, not so much this time ‘round.” Rose was perplexed by his choice of words, but immediately dismissed it to a place at the back of her mind as he continued to speak. “But, I suppose a banana hot chocolate with whipped cream would provide a nice boost of energy.”
--oOo--
While the Doctor placed the orders, Rose became engrossed in observing the customers at surrounding tables. “Look at those two, Doctor! What ya think? They’re way beyond first date. I bet they just got engaged! Oh, my God! They’re feeding each other!” She began to laugh, wrapping an arm around her stomach in a hopeless effort to control herself. “Definitely.  Engaged! Or about to be…”
“I dunno, Rose,” the Doctor looked up, having finished placing their order, “I think they might be beyond engaged.”
“Why’s that then?”
“Because Rose,” he gestured with a nod of his head at the couple in question, “while he’s feeding her with one hand, the other hand is occupied in a much more entertaining activity.”
“You’re havin’ me on! Oh – my – God!” Rose felt the heat of a blush redden her cheeks as she glanced under the couples’ table. “Well that explains why she looks so dreamy and flushed, then. I am officially upgradin’ their status to newly-wed!”
“That seems more appropriate, I’d say,” he agreed, infuriatingly unflustered by the activities at the next table.
“’Course, could be anything… they’re probably just randy, or this could be... normal behaviour for the, what was it? 47th Century…?” Rose’s attention was (thankfully) soon diverted by the arrival of a tiny flying droid. Its body was a sparkly fuchsia, and its heavily lashed eyes were bright red, heart-shaped deely-boppers. Rose sputtered in shock as it delivered their food, confirming their order in a sultry voice.
The Doctor chortled at Rose’s bemused reaction. “It’s all jus’ a lot to take in, ya know,” she stammered, “what with Mr. Happy Hands and the wife sittin’ next door, and Lou-Lou the Love-Bot delivering the–” She was interrupted by a muffled, impassioned cry from the woman at the next table, causing Rose to roll her eyes in an attempt to affect disdain and indifference.
The Doctor simply chuckled harder. “Keep up, Rose! I thought you’d be over the culture shock, by now,” he teased mercilessly.  
“Shut up. ‘S not like that stuff didn’t go on ‘round the Estate, but it wasn’t done out there for everyone to see: usually down some dark alley… or on the dance floor at one of those seedy clubs. And the robot’s just daft! Besides, you’ve had nine hundred years to get used to all this. I haven’t even had nine months!”
“Still, Rose…” He gulped down his mug of hot chocolate in one swig. “Oi, what’s goin’ on down there?” he asked, responding to the noise of shouting rising from below.
Rose craned her neck to give her the best view of the floor of the restaurant through the confetti forcefield. “Looks like our friend, Zoorgraps, has gone completely bonkers, he has! Right cheesed off about somethin’. He’s natterin’ on about how unfair life is, havin’ to work here. Doctor, he’s getting really worked up… Doctor?”
Rose looked across at the Doctor. He was leaning on his elbow, chin in his palm, gazing at her dreamily. “Doctor?” her voice rose in alarm. “Earth to Doctor…” She waved her hand in front of his face.
“Right here, Rose. Don’t worry, love, I’ll never leave you.”
“Right comforting, that is! Not quite relevant, though, Doctor.  Wait… did you just call me ‘love’?” She felt a strong prickle of concern rush over her. “Doctor, could you answer me a question, then?”
“For you, my Rose, I would do anything.”
“Yeah, ‘bout that… Did you happen to detect an aphrodisiac in that hot chocolate of yours? Just guessin’… on the off chance… that you did, yeah?”
“Oh, yes! There was enough potion in there to make a Geruhundian Greehog fall in love with an Ooktee.”
“Thought so.” She wrinkled her nose in trepidation. “And your superior physiology…?
“Still superior, but that was a rather large dose... You know, that’s what I love about you, Rose! So observant! So beautiful… and not just for a human.” He snatched her hand from where it lay across the table, pressing his lips to the back of it.  
Rose shivered, and quickly turned away from his piercing stare. She was about to suggest that they get back to the TARDIS post-haste, when she became aware of an enormous commotion, not just from Zoorgraps at floor level, but also taking place in the air all around her: it seemed the holographic cherubs were continuing to fly about, shooting arrows at customers, but the arrows were no longer holographic recreations. They were very real and very dangerous.
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charlie-minion · 8 years
Text
Stay close to me, don’t go!
I have just realized something that has blown my mind! In Yuri on Ice episode 9, when Vicktor and Yuuri reunited at the airport, Yuuri asked Viktor to take care of him until he retires (there was a translation error in that scene; for more info read this post until the end). Yuuri didn’t ask Viktor to be his coach until retirement, he asked him to take care of him, in a personal relationship, not in a professional one. That’s why Viktor said it sounded like a marriage proposal –though both understood and reacted to the whole situation differently. These two need to seriously improve their communication skills because all their misunderstandings happened for not expressing openly what they really wanted. Everybody has thought that Viktor telling Yuuri that he wished he’d never retire was beautiful, but that was the exact moment Yuuri realized he had no choice but retire.
This is going to get really long, so read more after the cut. (Also, I had screenshots ready for this post, but Tumblr decided to be a jerk about it and didn’t let me upload ANY of them). 
At the end of episode 9, Yuuri decided he would retire after the Grand Prix Final, but he didn’t talk to Viktor about it. We saw Yuuri worry about what would happen after the GPF in episodes 8 and 9. In episode 8, it was when Yuri said that Yuuri would suffer a miserable defeat in Moscow. In that moment, Yuuri thought, “If I can’t rank higher than fourth in this event, I won’t make it to the GPF. And if I don’t, what will Viktor do?”
Some minutes earlier Viktor had said to the media that until the GPF was over, he wouldn’t comment on any future plans. Nobody knew what Viktor wanted to do after the GPF, not even Yuuri and that pushed him to make his own decision.
When Viktor had to return to Japan and Yuuri had to face the FS program on his own, Yuuri really believed Viktor would leave him after the GFP. He said so while skating, “If I fail here, everything is over”.
And what happened when he thought that? He flubbed his combination jump and remembered that Viktor told him that happened when something was on his mind (aka when he wasn’t focused on expressing his feelings through his skating).  He also remembered when he saw Viktor in the onsen telling him he would be his couch and he would make him win the GPF. The GPF is the first important event in a season. After that there come the Nationals, the Four Continents, and the World Championships. Viktor never talked about those events with Yuuri; hence why Yuuri believed after the GPF everything would be over. He had believed his time with Viktor was limited since the beginning (he said so in ep 4).
What was the next jump Yuuri flubbed in his FS? The one when he was thinking this: “I was able to come this far because Viktor believed in me. If I end here without making the GPF…”
He didin’t finish that idea and two-footed his landing. That’s when he decided to stop thinking about Viktor leaving. At this point Yuuri had to think what would happen to him once Viktor was gone. Would he continue skating or would he retire? During his program, Yuuri realized that he could continue skating with or without Viktor and was thankful for that. In fact, he didn’t want people to think that everything Viktor had taught him had been a waste. In episode 9 Yuuri realized that he’d always skated with the idea to win (even at last year’s GPF), and that he was NOT weak. Viktor just helped him realize that those things were true. In that episode Yuuri thought of Yuri as his rival and said Yuri was an idiot because Yuuri had more stamina than him and could therefore do more challenging jumps. In episode 9, Yuuri realized that skating would be tough with or without Viktor by his side, but he also understood his unique value as a skater. 
That’s why I believe that in that moment Yuuri decided NOT to retire.
That’s when he decided that he would be done when he got the gold with Viktor, that he WOULD get the gold in the GPF as a thank you to Viktor not just for coaching him, but for believing in him and making him stronger through love –a feeling he didn’t even think about until Viktor came to his life.  
At this point Yuuri was certain Viktor would go back to Russia soon. He thought about it while hugging Yakov in the kiss and cry, and he continued to think about it even when he knew that he was one of the 6 to compete in the GPF. While skating his FS, Yuuri was sure he wanted to get gold for Viktor, but after the Rostelecom Cup was over, he remembered he couldn’t count on having Viktor with him forever and there still was the possibility of him not winning gold. What would happen then?
Before Yuri interrupted him, Yuuri said to himself that he would have Viktor step down as his coach but he didn’t say what he was planning afterward. What was Yuuri thinking? Yuuri talked about his career being close to reaching its peak and about really wanting the gold medal. He said the GPF would be his last chance but he didn’t talk about retiring. He thought the GPF would be his last chance to give a gold medal to Viktor and that is confirmed when he said “even if I don’t win gold, I’ll have Viktor step down as coach”.  
The last time Yuuri thought about the possibility of this being his last season was in episode 4 and he wasn’t exactly stronger at that time yet. He said he’d become stronger in ep 5, at the conference when he presented the theme for his new season. In fact, it’s important to notice the way Yuuri talked about himself as “one of the top men’s figure skaters certified by JSF” in episode 6 and as “a figure skater representing Japan” in episode 7. Contrast that with what he said in episode 12, “I’m a dime-a-dozen Japanese figure skater”, repeating what he’d said about himself in episode 1 but with a different tone. He didn’t believe that anymore. He was just trying to convince himself because he’d decided to retire, just as he’d started considering after his defeat in last year’s GPF.
Now the airport scene: Yuuri had a lot to tell Viktor. He probably wanted to thank him for everything and end their coach/student relationship after the GPF, but I don’t think retiring was one of the things he had in mind. That’s why he told Viktor to take care of him until retirement. He didn’t want Viktor to be his coach; he wanted Viktor to stay close to him and not leave him. Yuuri was talking about his personal relationship with Viktor, not the professional one. That’s why he was so happy when Viktor seemed to easily understand and said Yuuri’s words sounded like a marriage proposal. That wasn’t professional; it was 100% personal. But then… Yuuri’s expression changed dramatically.
I suppose you have wondered why Yuuri looked so happy when Viktor mentioned the marriage proposal but started crying the moment Viktor said “I wish you’d never retire”. I have wondered about it too and my interpretation is the following:
To Yuuri, Viktor’s words sounded like the one talking was his coach. Yuuri was basically telling Viktor, ‘stay close to me, let’s grow old together’, and Viktor didn’t get it. (By the way, I’m sure Viktor totally got it, but Yuuri thought he didn’t). In Yuuri’s mind “I wish you’d never retire” suggested something unreal; the real thing was that Yuuri would retire some day and then everything would be over. 
Yuuri thought that Viktor was still talking about skating. He didn’t want Viktor Nikiforov, his coach, to stay with him; he wanted Viktor, the man he’d fallen in love with, and just that. If he continued skating, Viktor would stay but not out of love; he would stay to continue coaching him. That’s why Yuuri was crying when he said “let’s win gold together at the GPF”. Poor Yuuri! He totally misunderstood Viktor.
Yuuri had his imminent retirement in mind. That’s why he bought the rings in episode 10 as a thank-you gift to Viktor for all his help. He blushed every second when he gave the ring to Viktor because he wasn’t stupid; he knew what it meant to him, but he also thought that Viktor wasn’t going to take it that way. He was very wrong, of course, as Viktor himself called them engagement rings later on.
After that, we don’t know what else was going on in Yuuri’s mind. Next time we saw him, he was about to do his SP at the GPF. All his body language showed how down he was feeling. The fact that he thought his coach/student relationship with Viktor would be over and that Viktor would leave him might explain why Yuuri’s last Eros routine gave us a less than friendly face. 
Yuuri spent most of his SP thinking about jumps and scores. He didn’t think about Viktor anymore, probably because according to Yuuri, what was even the point? It was heartbreaking to see how devastated Yuuri felt when he finished his SP. In the meantime, we saw everything that Viktor was thinking and feeling, but Yuuri didn’t because Viktor wouldn’t say anything to him… because Viktor didn’t know what he should give Yuuri.
Then Yuuri saw Viktor watching the other skaters with a pensive or even excited expression at times. The way Viktor reacted to Otabek’s performance affected Yuuri even more because Viktor considered it exotic and fresh. Yuuri probably thought that he was just one skater more in Viktor’s eyes and that Viktor wanted to either return to skating or coach somebody else.
At least we got to see his character growth when he acknowledged that neither his defeat at last year’s GPF nor his performance at this year’s should make him feel any kind of regret because after all he managed to become one of the final six and that was a big deal. Bravo, Yuuri!
Then we got this bomb, “after the final, let’s end this.” Yuuri wanted to thank Viktor for everything and set him free as his coach. He DID NOT expect Viktor to cry. He didn’t think that Viktor cared so much about him outside of skating. That’s why he couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw Viktor’s tears. Viktor’s passionate “How can you tell me to return to the ice while saying you’re retiring?” surprised Yuuri enough to take a little longer before making a final decision regarding his future.  
Viktor was completely destroyed after that. His sadness was so obvious that it still breaks my heart. How could Yuuri not notice? Right before Yuuri went on the ice, we saw a flashback of the moment Yuuri decided to retire, the airport scene with Viktor, the moment when Yuuri completely misunderstood Viktor.
Before Yuuri started his FS, Viktor treated him as a student for a moment, and Yuuri noticed the difference. He told Viktor not to suddently start trying to sound like a coach. Then Viktor was Viktor again and stayed true to himself as Yuuri asked him. He had known since episode 2 that Yuuri was a sore loser, so he knew that the only way Yuuri might change his mind about retiring was if he didn’t win gold at the GPF. That’s why Viktor started teasing him with the gold medal he wanted to kiss. He made the medal a tribute to Viktor, a tribute Yuuri wanted to give him since episode 9 anyway, a tribute that in the end Yuuri wouldn’t be able to give him. Viktor knew Yuuri would not accept defeat and simply retire if Yuuri didn’t win gold.
People might say Viktor did something unhealthy and selfish, but I just think he did something very human and easy to relate to. Viktor is not perfect, but he knew Yuuri was making a big mistake and he probably understood that he was doing it so that he (Viktor) could return to skating. He understood Yuuri knew Viktor would stay with him as his coach for as long as he continued to be a competitive skater, but Yuuri didn’t want to hold him back the way figure skating had held him back for 20 years. He understood Yuuri wasn’t being selfish but selfless for Viktor’s sake.
The only thing is that Viktor didn’t want that sacrifice, so he acted accordingly. Yuuri had just turned 24, it was too soon for him to retire; he still had so much to offer and so much to grow as a skater and as a person who deals with anxiety. Viktor knew it and that probably motivated him to act: He hinted at his comeback to Yuuri in the kiss and cry, and he told Yakov he was coming back in front of Yuri. Since episode 10, we know Viktor knew that Yuuri was the one who motivated Yuri to do his best, so Viktor used that and it worked. Yuri actually did his best to win the gold and stop Yuuri from retiring. He won by 0.12, so if he hadn’t added a quad at the end of his program (doing something beyond his limits again), he wouldn’t have won. 
Episode 12 showed us that Viktor understood Yuuri better than Yuuri understood Viktor. Yuuri didn’t want his relationship with Viktor to end at the GPF, not even his coach/student one; he wanted to be in figure skating with Viktor forever, but he didn’t want to kill Viktor as a competitive skater. He wanted Viktor to stay with him and never leave him, but out of love, not out of responsibility as a coach. That’s why Yuuri decided to free him no matter how much it hurt. And Viktor understood that, so he had to find a way to stop it. 
In the end, two things convinced Yuuri not to retire 1) Yuri’s outstanding performance that prevented him from winning gold and 2) Viktor’s comeback to the ice. He offered his silver medal to Viktor, but Viktor still teased him about the gold medal so that Yuuri would finally make up his mind. Yuuri is a sore loser, remember? What was the result? 
He decided NOT to retire! However, and this is very important, Yuuri didn’t ask Viktor to be his coach; he asked him to stay with him in competitive figure skating for one more year. There’s a saying that goes like this: “If you love something, set it free; if it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.” Yuuri set Viktor free and, in the end, Viktor’s decision was to return to the ice AND TO STAY CLOSE TO YUURI AND NOT GO anywhere.
That was when Yuuri finally understood that Viktor would stay with him not because he had to, but because he wanted to. That’s why their pair skating was so perfect. They danced for each other the ultimate love song, the ultimate love wish: Stammi vicino non te ne andare… Stay close to me, don’t go.
This anime is going to be the death of me, I swear!
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jbankai89 · 7 years
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Fic: The Stag and The Snake, Part I, Chapter Two - Negotiations
My good friend and braintwin @kuriquinn suggested I try posting my actual fics on Tumblr, rather than just linking them, so I'm giving it a try. For those of you following my work on AO3 or AFF, these will be reposts until I'm caught up and everything is posted. :)
Title: The Stag and the Snake
Author: JBankai89
Status: Complete, Part 1: 12/12 Part 2: 22/22
Rating: Part 1: PG-13, Part 2: NC-17
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Achievements: None
Warnings: Violence and Gore, Violent Sexual Assault, Minor Character Death
Summary: Vernon Dursley is enraged with the prospect of raising a boy he never wanted. Petunia recalls something that might help them get the child out of their hair more quickly. Overcoming their recalcitrance for anything magical, they invoke The Rite of Betrothal. Who will Harry be forced to marry, and will he be able to cope with all the demands it will entail?
Word Count: Part 1: 46 772  Part 2: 85 442
Other Links: AO3, AFF, LJ
Notes: Please note that this fic also contains Evil!Snape, which is a trope I hate, because Sev is my favourite character, but for the purposes of this story, he worked best.
This fic is based on the story of The Swan Princess, which I will be following the canon of in conjunction with the HP canon. Canon divergences include Voldemort is definitely dead, Lucius Malfoy is a bit OOC, and Sirius did not go to Azkaban. Because most of the story takes place before and after Hogwarts, a lot of the Hogwarts years are glossed over. I tried to keep the links and stuff organized how they did it on the old LJ group MyChemicalSlash, so I hope this is clean enough for you guys to follow easily.
Previous Chapter 
Fic Masterpost
Chapter 2 – Negotiations
Sirius waited until they had Apparated back to their flat before exploding.
“Harry Potter with a family of Slytherin Purebloods!” he shrieked, “I won't have it Remus, I won't! And those Dursleys: 'What kind of name is that for a girl?' I mean, how thick can you get?” Remus had eased back into an armchair with a cup of tea, and he watched Sirius pace back and forth in front of the hearth angrily. His own distress over the situation was obvious, though he seemed to be taking it in stride, rather than losing his head.
“There's very little we can do, Sirius. I shudder to think what would happen to Harry if we failed to hold up our end of the bargain. Of course,” his mouth twitched into a small half-smile, “I'm sure Lucius will be thrilled when he gets the news.”
“Pompous git,” Sirius grumbled, “I don't care if he starts handing out sweets to orphans, I still don't like him.”
“I'd be amazed if you did,” Remus chuckled a little, “following the downfall of Voldemort, he did not make much effort to be well-liked by the working-class Wizarding community.”
“And he's a sanctimonious Slytherin git.” Sirius flicked his wand towards the fire grate, and flames leapt up, crackling merrily as though they had been burning for hours. He fell heavily into the armchair next to Remus, and raked a hand through his hair. “I know he was a double-agent and all that, but it won't make me like him any better.”
“We should be grateful he went to such lengths for our side, and at great personal risk to himself, not to mention the safety of his family. Were the situation different, I'm sure he would be considered as much a hero as young Harry, but as it is...” Remus trailed off and pursed his lips. “He'd be as hunted as muggleborns were during Voldemort's reign. It's still to dangerous for his triumphs for our side to be acknowledged. We can't blame him for feigning his loyalty to the Death Eaters, with so many of them still at large.
“Lucius will probably be just as eager to call this whole thing off as we are,” Remus continued in the same even tone, “Harry won't be considered a Pureblood, at least not by a family like that, and despite their recent, ah, affiliations, I think it's safe to say that old habits die hard.”
“Not much any of us can do, I suppose,” Sirius muttered with a heavy sigh, and helped himself to a cup of tea from the low table before him. “I'm not looking forward to that conversation though. When are we scheduled to meet with Lucius and Narcissa?”
“In a fortnight. One of the representatives from the Bloodlines office will be in touch with them, and then we'll need to meet with them to discuss the future of the boys.”
“I can hardly wait.”
~*~
The following fourteen days passed far too quickly for Sirius and all too soon, he found himself side by side with Remus outside the imposing fortress of the Malfoy Manor. He bit back a complaint of how he'd sooner play keep away with a nesting dragon's eggs than do this, but he held his tongue, given that he was fairly certain that Remus had had enough of his complaining. Seeming to sense his bonded's distress, Remus reached out and squeezed Sirius' forearm gently, and then together they raised their wands and tapped them against the iron-wrought gate.
The gate melted away and the pair stood before a winding path of stone slabs and pebbles pressed into the earth. The path was bordered by meticulously pruned flutterby bushes and scattered upon the lawn was all matter of tasteful, but exotic fauna; from white peacocks and bluebell rabbits, to a pair of impala. Sirius snorted when he saw the animals, but at Remus's hard look, he kept his sarcastic comments to himself.
As they approached the doors, they opened to reveal Lucius Malfoy waiting for them. His expression was difficult to read, though it was obvious that he was as unwilling to allow them in his home as they were to be there. He stood in a fitted, white shirt and black waistcoat that glimmered with a tint of green as the light caught it—dragonhide. He wore trousers of a similar material, and in his left hand he gripped a black cane with a silver snake wrought into the handle.
With as much grace as the man could muster, walking somewhat stiffly from an old wound he'd garnered during the war, he made a sweeping gesture towards the front hall of his home.
“Gentlemen,” he said in greeting, his voice coming off a little sharper than Lucius had probably intended. Sirius did not fail to notice how his eye had twitched and his mouth quivered somewhere between a faint smile and a grimace as he spoke. Though they had, in theory, been working for the same side, Sirius knew that Lucius liked this arrangement no better than they did.
“Thank you for welcoming us into your home, Lucius,” Remus said, nudging Sirius as he did so. Sirius felt as though he had lost his voice for a moment and let out a mumble of agreement, nodding his head once.
“Yes, well,” he trailed off, his nostrils flaring with distaste. “Come, my wife is in the lounge. We shall discuss...matters there.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked off through a passageway to the left of the grand hall.
Sirius kept his eyes forward and narrowed. I'll kill him if he tries anything, he thought, no matter how vehemently Dumbledore and other prominent Order members had vouched for Lucius, he could not let go of his deep distrust. Remus, on the other hand, was smiling placidly as he looked around, taking in the grandeur of the place. Their walk was not a long one, and they stepped into the lounge where Narcissa was waiting with a glass of red wine in her hand. Her lips were pursed and her eyes flashed dangerously, making no illusions about her feelings towards the arrangement.
Lucius joined his wife on the plush love seat. Remus and Sirius sat across from them, and a low table made of glass and dark wood divided them. On the table sat an open bottle of red wine, as well as a partially unfurled letter from the Ministry, presumably detailing the match the Coupling Charm had decided for their son.
Lucius flicked his wand and three more glasses of wine appeared. He took one, flicking his wand again and the remaining two floated towards Sirius and Remus, and they took them with minute nods of thanks. The senior Malfoy took a sip and paused as though using the moment to fortify himself, then shifted his cold grey gaze to the pair. “It seems that we must discuss the prospective bonding of my only son to your—godson.” The words almost came out as a sneer, but as Sirius opened his mouth angrily, Remus nudged him into silence.
“As you are probably aware, Lucius,” Remus began, his tone more stiff than his usual calm, “we are not Harry's legal guardians. However, the Ministry felt it was in his best interest that we—er, act as middlemen between yourselves and Harry's legal guardians, that is, his aunt and uncle. Their distaste for wizards is more or less on par with your feelings towards muggles.” Sirius snorted next to him, but Remus ignored it. “In the hopes of keeping the peace, as it were, we stepped in.”
“And I take it Potter is to be raised by these muggles, then?” Lucius did not manage to completely rid his voice of its disgust at the prospect.
“For now, yes, that is Albus's wish. When Harry and Draco have their first meeting, we will be taking him in, though he will still need to return to his aunt and uncle's house for several weeks out of the year until he comes of age.”
“And I assume that despite this...arrangement, Albus has no desire to tell us why he must return to these muggles?” Narcissa's voice was as cold as Lucius's had been, making it clear that she did not approve of being kept in the dark.
“It isn't a matter of trust or distrust, but the reasoning behind it is an extremely delicate matter,” Sirius said stiffly, “I believe Albus only told us due to the fact that we would be taking Harry in. Had we not been, I doubt he would have told us either.”
“I see,” Lucius mused, though it was obvious he did not like having information withheld. “To this arrangement, I am sure you realize that we must decide upon a surrogate for when the boys bond. It may matter little to you two, but the Malfoy line must continue.”
“It sounds as though you have already accepted it,” Sirius observed, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. Lucius glared at him.
“We most certainly do not,” snapped Narcissa, narrowing her eyes at her guests, “generations upon generations of purebloods, sullied by that...that boy. Unfortunately, even we were unable to break the contract.” She deflated a little, and her eyes flitted to her husband, before returning back to the pair. “Though if you have some other brilliant idea, cousin,” she sneered at Sirius, “I'd be delighted to hear it.” Sirius fell silent and glared at her. He clearly did not want to be reminded of his lineage at that moment.
“What's done is done,” Remus cut in quickly before the argument could get more heated. “It's a magical contract, and we all know that there are precious few ways to get around it, especially considering Harry's legal guardians are adamant about proceeding. They hate Harry probably as much as Voldemort did.” The Malfoys started, which caused Sirius to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Remus's words seemed to resonate with them, and they did not press the matter further.
“I believe you have every intention of sending Draco to Hogwarts when he turns eleven, then?” Sirius asked as politely as he could in an attempt to break the tense silence.
“Yes, every Malfoy for the last nine generations has attended that school,” Lucius's tone was as strained as Sirius's had been. “And young Mr Potter? I assume his, ah, relatives have no intention of furthering his magical study?”
Remus snorted, his first show of genuine emotion since they had arrived. Sirius couldn't help but stare at him in surprise for a moment. “From what I gathered, they have no plans to send him anywhere—muggle or magical. As to Hogwarts, his name was put down by James and Lily before—” he cut himself off, and his gaze fell. Sirius looked away from the Malfoys, but he listened to Remus continue, his voice distinctively more croaky than it had been a moment before. “Considering his parents were both Gryffindors, I doubt we'll need to worry about the boys being housed together.”
Sirius bit back a laugh, and he returned his gaze to the pair. “Of course, no one can be certain of that, but it seems likely.”
“Quite.” Lucius's gaze flicked to Sirius, clearly remembering the man's own sorting, despite his Slytherin lineage. “However, the fact remains that these boys are from different classes. I will not have my son bond to some sort of ill-mannered half-blood and have them live in a hovel. I insist that we hold their meetings here, and perhaps you two may employ an etiquette instructor for Potter. Living with those...people, I assume he will learn little of our ways.”
“Oh that's just what we need,” sniped Sirius before he could stop himself, “to let Harry grow up to be a pampered little snot like—”
“Sirius,” Remus said in a warning tone, and Sirius fell silent at once. His expression did not lose its incredulity at Lucius's request, however.
“Lucius,” Remus said in a tone that clearly expressed that he was trying to keep the meeting from turning into a brawl, “Lily and James left Harry with a small fortune at Gringotts. By the time he has access to it, it will be enough that I doubt you need worry that your son will be living in a hovel, as you put it. Sirius and I intend to do our best to teach Harry our ways but I'm sure you understand, Harry will need to be sheltered from the wizarding community at large—at least until he's ready to face it.”
“Sheltered? To what purpose?” Lucius asked, “I assume this is another harebrained scheme of Dumbledore's?” He looked unhappy, but his outright anger seemed to be fading.
“Harry is barely one year old, and he's considered the Saviour of the Wizarding World. Can you imagine how overwhelming it would be for a child that young? He's famous for something he won't even remember. Dumbledore feels it best for Harry to grow up away from all that. Despite our, erm, special circumstances, I believe it would be best to honour Dumbledore's wish. To that end, I believe the less Harry is exposed to, at least for now, the better.”
“Child celebrities are nothing new, Remus,” Lucius pointed out, “surely that cannot be Dumbledore's only reason for shielding the boy from our ways.” Lucius's nostrils flared in obvious disgust, but Sirius seemed to have a vague idea where he was going with this, and was not disappointed. “I will not have my child bound to someone with little more knowledge of our world than a—a muggle,” he spat the word as though it were a curse.
“This is all we are permitted to disclose at this time,” Sirius said stiffly, and Remus watched him cautiously, bracing himself to jump in if the man lost his temper again. “I'm sure you can appreciate how delicate these matters are.” Sirius's mouth twitched at the corners with amusement, all but telling Lucius how little he trusted them.
“I think,” Narcissa cut in before her husband could respond, “we should return to the matter at hand, our intentions for our sons' bonding.” She pursed her lips, making no secret how she felt about the outcome of the Coupling, though unlike her husband, she kept her remarks to herself. “I believe my husband has already voiced our concerns regarding etiquette and the necessity for a surrogate to be chosen,” her eyes flicked to Sirius, “I would prefer a Pureblood candidate for the surrogacy,” she said in a tone that all but dared any of the men to interrupt her, “in particular from a respectable family...the Blacks, for instance.”
Sirius snorted, but Remus shot him a glare that kept him from saying anything.
“I hardly think that is an appropriate suggestion, Mrs Malfoy,” Remus replied, “Sirius's family made no secret about where their loyalties lay during the war, as you well know. Now if you were to consider a daughter from another Pureblood family, say, the Weasleys—” Lucius barked a derisive laugh that cut Remus off.
“Surely you're joking! The Weasleys mixing their blood with the Malfoys? We may as well pick an urchin off the streets of Diagon Alley!” Sirius groaned and pressed his fingers to his temples. This was going to be a long day.
~*~
Evening fell, and Sirius and Remus left the Manor with a cloud of gloom hovering over their heads.
None too surprisingly, their definition of wizarding decency was vastly different from the Malfoys' view of it, and their copy of the Bonding Negotiations was almost as blank as it had been when they had arrived earlier that day. They didn't speak as they moved beyond the gates of the Malfoy property and Disapparated, Sirius breaking the silence once they'd gotten back home.
“That went well,” Sirius said sarcastically as he collapsed into his favourite armchair. Remus huffed and strode over to the adjoining kitchen, slamming the near-blank parchment down onto the table as he went.
“These things take time Sirius,” Remus said as he pulled out his wand and gave it a little flick. At once, a drawer opened and several sharp knives flew out of it to meet a handful of onions on the counter, which shot out of their skins as the utensils descended and began to mince. “The Malfoys are used to the entire world bowing to their desires. Obviously, it will take some time before we come to an agreement.” Remus moved to the stove and levitated a large pot onto the cooker. He ignited a fire beneath it with a prod of his wand, and flicked his wand again to add oil and the onions to the pot with a sharp hiss.
Sirius stood up with an exaggerated  groan, and wandered into the kitchen to watch Remus cook.
“I just hate that this is happening at all,” Sirius said miserably, “James and Lily gone, Harry living with relatives that don't want him, and when he turns seventeen we're expected to hand him over the Malfoys.” He pressed his thumb and forefinger on either side of the bridge of his nose, bowing his head slightly. “As if the whole thing with Voldemort wasn't bad enough...” he trailed off, and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling while Remus continued to putter around their kitchen, chopping meat, vegetables, and herbs.
“It's out of our hands unfortunately,” Remus said after a few moments of silence. “The best thing we can do is be there for Harry as much as we can, and make this whole experience as painless as possible for him.”
“Assuming all goes smoothly and Voldemort is truly defeated, that is.”
“Don't jinx it, Sirius.”
~*~
By the fifth week of meetings with Lucius and Narcissa, Sirius felt no more optimistic about the arrangement than he had at the beginning. True, they had begun to concede on certain points, as had he and Remus, and very slowly the Bonding Negotiations contract began to fill.
Unfortunately, their pureblood mania was a constant reminder that he was dealing with a pair of recently reformed Death Eaters, and it made him feel no more at ease. Often he felt as though he was preparing himself to drop Harry into a den of wolves, or snakes, as it were; and he had no idea if the boy would come out of this in once piece. They had yet to even meet young Draco, which Sirius felt was deeply unsettling. He felt a sense of foreboding overwhelm him at the end of each meeting, and Remus's calm reactions did little to quell his worries.
“This is the last meeting, Sirius,” Remus reminded him in an undertone as they followed the path to the doors where Lucius waited, “please try and behave.”
“I will if they keep their pureblood cracks to themselves,” Sirius replied in a deliberately carrying whisper, and Remus elbowed him in the side, a little harder than was probably necessary.
“Gentlemen,” Lucius said with a small incline of his head in greeting. Remus smiled, and Sirius returned the small nod, but didn't speak. The senior Malfoy turned and walked inside, and the pair followed him to the now familiar lounge.
Sirius and Remus were greeted with a surprise when they stepped inside, and took notice of a white-blond toddler on the floor next to Narcissa. He was giggling and flailing a plush snake toy in his chubby little hands. She did not even look up when the men entered, her attention entirely focused on her child. Sirius did not fail to note her expression: it was softer and less haughty, filled with genuine love for her son. The look surprised Sirius a great deal, given that he did not think he had ever seen the woman let her emotional guard down before.
Lucius hardly gave the boy a second glance as he pressed forward directly into the matters at hand.
“In accordance with the bonding traditions, it is now time for you to meet our son, Draco.” Sirius and Remus glanced at each other, then back to the baby. There was no doubt as to who Draco's parents were, with his angular bone structure, bright grey eyes and white-blond hair, he was every bit a Malfoy. Lucius seemed to sense their mild confusion, grumbled under his breath, and elaborated. “It is customary to introduce the parents to the betrothed children on the final day of negotiations. We feel no need to be introduced to Mr Potter, his story is so well known I believe we can wait until the boys' first meeting.”
Both Sirius and Remus nodded in agreement. Having the Dursleys and the Malfoys in the same room was definitely a recipe for disaster. Lucius pulled out the negotiations scroll without another word, clearly intent to go straight to business, again without giving his child a passing glance.
While the contract was by no means a tool with which to control the lives of their children, it did cover several key issues that would aid the boys in the start of their life together. Included were Living Conditions: Lucius and Narcissa pushed to have them live in the west wing of the Manor, at least until they had gotten decent jobs, while Sirius and Remus petitioned to pay for a small flat. In the end, they bent to the wish of the Malfoys. Upbringing: Lucius and Narcissa wanted Harry to be given an Wizarding Etiquette tutor, and Sirius protested this idea so vehemently that the Malfoys gave it up. In addition, there were notes of arguments back and forth regarding whether they should police who the boys associated with while at school. Remus quashed upon this at once, in addition debating whether or not they should decide in advance what courses they should choose for the boys prior to the end of their second year, in order to push the pair towards more respectful forms of employment. Sirius protested so loudly against this, the Malfoys gave up on it almost at once.
In the end, everything had been decided, Remus agreed that it was more or less fair despite Sirius's misgivings, and the last item still to be determined was surrogacy. The paragraph at the top where this condition was supposed to be placed was as blank as it had been at their first meeting. Both couples fell into an awkward silence, the only noises in the room being the delighted giggles of Draco as his toy snake went flying across the table and bumped into Remus's calf.
Remus chuckled as the tension broke, and he picked the toy up to hand it back to Narcissa, who almost smiled in thanks. “We've made a short list of families we deem appropriate to participate in the surrogacy, with daughters that will be of an appropriate age when the time comes.” Lucius tapped his wand against the table and a second, smaller scroll of parchment appeared and unrolled itself, showing Remus and Sirius the list of names. They pursed their lips in mirrored expressions of distaste as they looked them over.
“I can't help but notice,” Sirius said in a tone that was less like a casual observant tone, and made it sound more like a thinly veiled threat, “that all the families on here are known Slytherins.” Lucius glared at him. He cocked an eyebrow at the Sirius, as though to say, 'so what?' though he never actually vocalized it. Sirius coiled his hands into fists, but Remus, sensing danger, placed a hand over his fist in an attempt to calm him.
“I understand your desire for your bloodline to continue,” Remus said carefully, “but considering Draco's betrothed, I am sure we can come up with an, er, middle ground.” he smiled, but the two other men were still glaring daggers at one another. “Sirius and I have been thinking,” he pressed on, ignoring the obvious tension that had re-emerged, “Mr and Mrs Xenophilius Lovegood are expecting a child. I have been told that it will be a girl, and they have consented to allow her to be the surrogate if she so wishes, when the time comes.” He paused and looked from one man to the other, “their bloodline meets your criteria, and they are a family of Ravenclaws, quite outside the rivalries between our own school houses.”
Lucius turned to Remus, looking at him as though he only just realized that he was there. His eyes narrowed, though this time in thoughtful contemplation instead of anger. “The Lovegoods are quite...eccentric.” It was not an outright rejection, which was promising.
“Any child the girl has will be raised by Draco and Harry,” Sirius pointed out evenly, “those idiosyncrasies are learned, not hereditary.” Remus beamed at Sirius, clearly amazed that he managed to keep his voice level.
“That is true,” Lucius lifted a hand to rub his chin thoughtfully, and turned to look at his wife. She nodded slightly, then immediately refocused her attention on the child. “Very well,” it was clear by his tone that he did not entirely approve of the decision, but it met the criteria that the Malfoys had set, and as such he had no choice but to concede. Sirius smirked triumphantly.
“And what of the girl?” Remus asked quickly, keeping a close eye on Sirius as he spoke. “I am not entirely clear on the process where she is concerned.” He exchanged a grimace with his bonded, and Narcissa rolled her eyes.
“Don't be so ridiculous. This is akin to an adoption, but with stronger blood ties. The boys need never even meet the girl, save for the delivery of their child, or children. She is not required to have any sort of...relationship with Draco or Potter.”
“I'm assuming then she won't be invited to The First Meeting ceremony?” Sirius's tone had sobered somewhat, as he tried to work through the technicalities of the surrogacy. Given that he and Remus had no interest in it, they hadn't bothered to ever look into how the process worked.
“Of course not,” Lucius snapped, clearly irritated by their ignorance. “For what reason would we invite her? The purpose of that ceremony is for the boys to get to know one another. Of course they will be told eventually of who their surrogate mother will be, but for all intents and purposes, she is a vessel for carrying their future children. She is not intended to be their friend, their wife, or anything of that nature.”
“That's a fairly cold way of looking at it,” Remus said with a small frown.
“Until a practised Healer comes up with something less distasteful, it is the only option.”
Sirius and Remus left that evening with the contract filled and signed by all participating parties. Sirius felt terribly guilty about the entire thing.
How could we have asked Xenophilius if we could borrow his child's womb, seventeen years from now? he wondered, feeling as though they may have not thought it through properly.
Remus reached out and squeezed Sirius's fingers gently. “I know it's unpleasant, but keep in mind that with the Rite there is no time constraints, and the Negations Contract is not binding. At least, not in the same sense. If Miss Lovegood rejects the terms when she is of age, it is fully within her right to do so. We're not forcing her into anything.”
“I know, Remus, it still feels wrong though.” Sirius laced his fingers with Remus's, and squeezed his hand gently.
“There's nothing we can do about it for now. Put it out of your mind and let's go home.” Sirius nodded, and Disapparated.
That night, Sirius's thoughts strayed back to Harry. That little boy was so full of life and light when he had last seen him. After four years with those muggles, would he be the same happy little boy?
Sirius wanted to hope for the best, the realist in him seriously doubted it.
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