#my enemy and future wife helena

[ceruleanvulpine]

there's a classic post which I can't find now that was discussing different kinds of robot horror -- hal 9000 sounding like a person and then being bound by fixed logic, glados sounding like an automated system and then getting quite personal about trying to kill you -- and iirc compared it to mrs danvers in Rebecca, and other such Horror About Servants? this unthought-of invisible force that supports your life suddenly has feelings and consciousness and is turning on you. anyway this happened to my friend helena

[suburbanbeatnik]

The short and very miserable life of Napoleon II, aka the Eaglet, aka Franz, Duke of Reichstadt: PART TWO

Although the beatings had ceased, Franz’s life continued in refined isolation until his fifteenth year, when his cousin Franz Karl married the beautiful and charming Sophie of Bavaria.

She was only six years older than he, a fine, pretty girl of sweet features and merry lips, with light chestnut brown hair arranged in great loops on her temples. She had done away with the stiff sumptuousness of her apartment at the Burg, and refurnished it in a more intimate atmosphere. In her salon, with its mahogany furniture covered in yellow velours and minus the usual gilding. Reichstadt would often come and sit beside her, looking through the pictures in her albums while she would paint, or play graceful Italian airs on her piano. And they would talk. She sided with him when things went wrong, pitied him, loved him. She was the only one to whom he could talk to with an open heart. Thanks to Sophie, in those troubled years of adolescence when the child is disappearing and the man is trying to find himself, he had at last found what had been refused him for so long: a friend.  [Aubry pg 140]

Franz was growing into a handsome young man, with his mother’s blue eyes and blond curls, but his father’s striking bone structure and deep-set eyes, and the emotional Bonaparte temperament. Though he was robust and “glowing with health” as a baby, by the time he was an adolescent he became more frail. Doctors said he had a “scrofulous tendency,” which was 19th century medical gobbledygook for some sort of disorder connected with the lymphatic glands. It seems to me that this kid was isolated and beaten for years, and suffered from pretty severe depression— on top of that, he didn’t eat (Aubry records that he had “a poor appetite”). Throw in an inherited tendency from his mother to have lung trouble, I’m not surprised he struggled with illness going forwards.

Apart from Sophie, there was no one to really look out after him. She encouraged him, his interests, his passions, his keen desire to be a soldier, his love for his father and of France, helping undo all the years of Habsburg brainwashing. As the years passed, he even learned how his father’s executors were continually frustrated in trying to pass on the legacy his father had tried to leave to him. “They had been kept away, or driven away: or else the relics they had brought had been politely taken from them and stuffed away into strongboxes, thus cheating the son of the only material inheritance his father had left him. Who had so ordained? Metternich, none other!” [Aubry pg 154]

Metternich, the true ruler of this not-so-holy and not-so-Roman empire, was the one man who had schemed and plotted to keep Franz so isolated and alone. Metternich, and this is no exaggeration, hated every atom of Franz since he was a baby, and he never let Franz forget it. Franz was under police surveillance at all times: the Chancellor had the Corsican’s son in his grasp, and would not lose him. He wouldn’t even allow the young man contact with his own grandmother, Letizia, Madame Mère, now eighty years old and blind from cataracts. He wouldn’t even allow a single letter— a single sentence.

That statesman, who had a government for a soul, had made Austria a prison for him instead of the home it should have been! Metternich had been his father’s enemy; he was his enemy too, and always had been! The young man felt the hostility underneath the Chancellor’s icy courtesy, and he hated him. Altogether without basis in fact are those accounts of numerous conversations between Metternich and the Duke of Reichstadt during this period. Prokesch maintains that the Minister talked to the Prince just five times in seventeen years. Far from seeking to influence the Duke of Reichstadt during this period, Metternich avoided all contact with him. He hated him as he hated his father. The likeness to the Corsican which he found again in the young man’s features offended him like an insult. He could not bear the sight of that forehead, the sound of that voice. At a Court reception on the evening of the Duke’s eighteenth birthday, the Chancellor paid the obligatory compliments and turned away hastily. Those who spoke to him immediately afterwards found him more distant than usual. As soon as he could do so without attracting attention, he left the palace. [Aubry pg 162]

After years of being force-fed Austrian propaganda, Franz had started reading as much as he could about the greatness of Napoleon— obsessively reading Las Cases’ Memorial of St Helena, which he found on one of the top shelves of the library. Imagine his feelings when he read his father’s will for the first time, discovering what affects and relics were left to him, but which he would never see, thanks to Metternich’s machinations (and Louise’s clumsy attempts to lay claim to Napoleon’s inheritance, which had sabotaged the work of the executors in the first place, did not cease until 1837). Franz, fascinated with his father’s campaigns and personal history, threw himself into his studies. Through books, he vicariously experienced Lodi, Arcole, Marengo, the Pyramids, Jena, Austerlitz… He became drunk with the glory of the past. A spell had been cast, and Franz became determined to make his father proud of him. When one of his tutors began to lecture him on his father’s shortcomings, Franz replied impatiently:

“The actions of great men are not to be weighed with ordinary scales.” [Aubry pg 156]

Franz was slowly shedding the relationships of his childhood. When, upon Neipperg’s death in 1829, he had discovered his mother had contracted a morganatic marriage with the one-eyed Neipperg, he “felt deeply insulted and humiliated.” He was enraged enough to discover just that: of course, keep in mind he had no idea that she was sleeping with Neipperg and had given Franz two illegitimate half-siblings while his father was living with the rats on St. Helena. I doubt he would have ever talked to her again if that was the case. Even without knowing that, he withdrew, “his letters were less affectionate and he mentioned her name more rarely. She had been expected at Schoenbrunn for the summer. Her son learned with relief that she preferred to take a cure in Switzerland.” [Aubry pg 160]

Of course, Louise kept doing her thing, weeping for Neipperg over “gay dinner tables and at the opera,” being annoyed whenever the name of Napoleon reached her ears, and then finding “a substitute for the one-eyed general in the person of the Count de Bombelles, at first Grand Master of her Household, then her lover, and then finally her third husband.” [Aubry pg 161]

Meanwhile, for years Franz had struggled with depression. The July Revolution had happened, with the kind and comfortable Louis-Philippe installed on the throne, and even though the King of Rome was still a popular figure in France, with perhaps a chance to ascend the throne, Franz was still, for all intents and purposes, a prisoner. And the older he got, the more obvious this became. Suggestions to become a monarch in Poland or Greece were pushed asides by Metternich. Attempts by his uncles Lucien and Joseph to discuss Franz’s future with Metternich were completely blocked. All he wanted to do was to start his military career, and make himself useful, but he couldn’t even join his regiment, or even visit his mother in Italy. His health was floated as the reason why he should stay inactive, but Franz doubted this was the only reason. Bouts of rage alternated with deep sloughs of “sadness and tedium,” and he could barely summon the interest to hold a conversation. Not surprisingly, his mother lacked sympathy. In 1830, when Louise was summering in Baden, taking the waters, she “rebuked him for his apathy. She could not understand why her son could be ‘so little like other young people.’” [Aubry pg 181]

It grew worse a year later. Italy was on fire with the revolutionary activities of the Carbonari, and Louise had fled Parma in fear of her life. Franz pleaded with his grandfather to let him go rescue her, but Metternich intervened. Let the son of Napoleon, the King of Rome, go to Italy, where his father won his own fame? Of course not! Emperor Francis gave into Metternich, and poor Franz was left feeling torn between misery, fury and desperation. Even Prokesch, his best friend apart from Sophie—a major in the Viennese army, a loyal soldier, scholar and diplomat who had worked for Metternich, but had defied him on a few occasions-- couldn’t calm him.  

His despair was palpable. He knew he would spend his entire life bound and trapped, with Metternich as his jailer.

The young man had sealed himself up in a silence that was almost complete, venting his feelings at the most in talks with Sophie and Prokesch, during which he expressed many severe judgments on members of the Imperial family. He loved Sophie and he had an affection for his grandfather, but he did not like the Empress, fond as she was of him. He thought the Archduke Ferdinand, heir-apparent and King of Hungary, was a ninny. [Editor’s note: Ferdinand was actually a brain-damaged hydrocephalic epileptic who couldn’t even consummate his own marriage with his wife Maria Anna, married in 1835.] He hated the Archduke Franz Karl, Sophie’s husband, calling him deceitful, mean and vulgar. Table conversations at the Hofburg were stupid, the Court life was cheap and in bad taste. Comparing himself with those pious, submissive and conceited Archudukes and those ugly, insipid Archduchesses, he felt himself of a superior race. He even said one day— and Prokesch recorded the words in his secret notes:

“If Josephine had been my mother, my father would not have gone to St. Helena, and I would not be languishing in Vienna. My mother certainly has a kind heart, but no backbone! She was not the wife my father deserved!”

And he added, burying his face in Prokesch’s hands:

“You do not respect her, do you?”

And Prokesch replied:

“She was what she could be. The woman your father deserved for a wife did not exist. But he chose her, and she is your mother…”

Reichstadt was now weeping, and a long silence followed. [Aubry pg 207]

And that was when he seriously began to think about escaping.

While the two began to consider exactly what they could do, Franz decided that he had had quite enough of the chaperonage of Count Dietrichstein, his head tutor. This was the man who whipped him when he was five, who thrashed him when he was ten, who drilled him for countless hours on his German and his Italian translations and all the minutiae of court etiquette. He claimed to be utterly devoted to the young prince. Maybe he was, in his own weird way. But Franz was spreading his wings (or at least attempting to— even when he was 20, his imperial grandpa was still prone to treating him like a child, forcing him to dine with him in austerity if his own personal dinner parties became, in Francis’s opinion, too extravagant). In addition to the sensible and devoted Prokesch, Franz had befriended a few other young men, rakes and dandies all, like Neipperg’s eldest son and the young Esterhazy. Franz was gorgeous, brooding, romantic, and with perfect manners, and the women were obsessed with him (a Polish nun who had never met him but only saw him from a distance once swore undying love, even writing letters to this effect).

There was one woman that Franz danced with at a masquerade ball, a certain Naudine Karolyi, black-haired, handsome and bold, and not only did they manage to dodge Metternich’s spies, but they exchanged a lot of letters. This was 1831, and he was 20. But Dietrichstein soon found out about the correspondence.

At any rate, he strode into the Duke’s room, began rummaging through his desk, and finding a drawer locked, commanded him to open it. Reichstadt did not dare refuse— he obeyed, and his governor saw before him a pile of letters from Esterhazy. He opened a few, ran through them, and turned around livid with anger:

“What?” he cried. “You have a love affair?”

“Yes,” replied the prince coolly. “You can see with whom.”

“Do you write to her directly?”

“No, sir.”

“Then through an intermediary? Someone I know?”

He was besides himself with rage and almost shouting. Other persons had just entered the room and stood looking on in surprise at the strange scene. Reichstadt begged the Count to calm himself.

“Come downstairs with me,” he whispered. “You shall have all the letters afterwards, I promise you.”

The Count mastered his anger and went down with him to the Emperor. On the return, the Duke scrupulously handed him the entire correspondence, and it was forthwith consigned to the flames. [Aubry, pg 212]

But this didn’t stop Dietrichstein from trying to intercept Franz’s personal letters. At one point he saw that Esterhazy called him “the old woman,” and Dietrichstein was “extremely hurt.” He tried everything he could to break up the friendship from that day on, but didn’t succeed, as Franz could be extremely stubborn and loyal to a fault.

The affair with Naudine didn’t go anywhere, but there were others— there was even a reputed bastard daughter who later called herself the Comtesse de la Pommiere— but no matter what happened, his heart belonged to Sophie.

* * *

I’m cutting this off here, because LONG POST IS LONG, but more angst and drama will be coming with the next post!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

[phoenixlionme]

WONDERFAM

1. Diana Prince aka Wonder Woman

2. Steve Trevor

3. Hippolyta

4. Philippus

5. Nubia - she will ALWAYS be Diana’s twin to me

6. Artemis of Bana-Mighdall - I see her as Diana’s cousin. Like, Diana’s Aunt Antiope for some reason moved to Bana-Mighdall (a subset of Themyscira) and adopted Artemis with her wife.

7. Akila - Artemis’ lover and wife

8. Kasia - Diana’s first love (and in my opinion, fiancé). They break up but remain close friends.

9. Donna Troy aka Troia

10. Etta Candy

11. Barbara Ann-Minerva aka Cheetah - she’s one of Wondy’s top three arch-enemies but I like the idea of her reforming and joining the Wonderfam

12. Yara Flor aka Wonder Woman of Future State

13. Maria Mendoza aka Wonder Woman (Stan Lee’s take on her)

14. Cassie Sandsmark aka Wondergirl

15. Ferdinand - Diana’s minotaur companion

16. Antiope - Diana’s aunt

17. Jumpa - Diana’s kangaroo companion

18. Peony McGill aka Star Blossom

19. Bobby Barnes aka Wonder Boy

20. Eros - from artist Luciano Vecchio

21. Pegasus - Wondy’s black horse companion

22. Stevie Trevor - a WonderTrev daughter in a universe

23. Lyta Trevor aka Fury - a WonderTrev daughter

24. Napi - from the 2017 movie; I would make him a Native God like how his actor confirmed

25. Charlie - from the 2017 movie

26. Sameer - from the 2017 movie

27. Grace Choi

28. Phthime

29. Anaya

30. Lyta Milton - daughter of Circe and Ares

31. Io

32. Helena Sandsmark - mother of Cassie

33. Jason - Diana’s twin but I would change his origins, maybe make him a puppet of Ares or another Wondy enemy

34. Hookswift - Diana’s sea monster friend

35. Peng Deilan aka Wonder Woman of China

36. Tiger Companion - This is a pure idea. The 2017 movie was going to give Diana a tiger companion, I would give her one.

37. Hunter Prince - the son of Diana and “The Darkness” in a comic storyline. However, this said storyline made Diana uncharacteristically unloving to her own child. So, I would change that and make Hunter the only son of Diana and Steve.

NOTE: If I missed anyone, please add on but be respectful.

[fonteyn]

enter a king and a queen: chapter three (king caspian x reader)

Summary: King Caspian has returned from his travels with the crew of the Dawn Treader and, forced by the Council of the Lords, has to sooner rather than later find a wife in order to secure the future of Narnia. He, however, wasn't counting on feeling rather different as he meets the young Queen of Calormen, a long time enemy nation that now presented itself as an ally to Narnia. As the two rulers get closer and closer, they start questioning themselves: should they follow their hearts or choose their countries instead?

Pairing: King Caspian x Queen of Calormen!Reader

Word Count:  9.1K

Rating:  M (Mature), swearing, tw mentions of abuse.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO                             

A/n: Do not fret, dear readers! I have every intention of finishing this story. I’m just a bit of a slow perfectionist writer who doesn’t have english as a first language. If you enjoy this fic, I urge you to reblog and like this post. Also, comments in the form of replies, asks or alongside the reblog are MUCH appreciated as they make me aware that people are actually reading it and what are the parts that were most successful. Do keep in mind that my ask box is always open, including for requests (it might take me a while to write them, but i’ll get there). For more content from me, my masterlist is here

The following week went by quicker than you had initially expected. 

Your days were filled to the brim with a packed schedule, one that didn’t really allow for many moments alone or even solely in Caspian’s company. 

You had gone in many meetings to discuss trade deals with several different Lords. You had come up with a joint military strategy alongside Narnia’s most esteemed generals so that just in case any of your countries found themselves in need for urgent help from one another in future battles you’d already have some form of a established plan put in place. You even had the opportunity at some point to spar with some of the soldiers in training. At first, the soldiers seemed weary of fighting you, not only because of you being a woman but also because of your royal status. However, you had assured them that you had previously had more than your fill of training in combat and so, when one of them volunteered to take you on, not really believing in your words, he stood in shock as you unceremoniously managed to grab him by the arm and body slam him onto the grown in mere minutes. Caspian thought it had been brilliant and strangely enticing, being the next volunteer to train with you.  You were, once again, reminded of the electric excitement of holding a weapon on your hands, letting your mind go into an automatic head space and enjoy the responsiveness that years of training marked into bones. 

It was, admittedly, the most fun you had in months. 

You had also done your best efforts to get friendly with the noble ladies that lived in the castle. 

After the first council meeting you had attended, Lady Helena Lockwood had hosted you several times for afternoon tea. Although, at first, you dreaded, you found yourself slowly warming up to it. Making chit chat had always been something you were not particularly good at, but after only a single afternoon in her presence, you quickly realized that you didn’t actually had to think of topics of conversation as Lady Lockwood seemed perfectly content in speaking for hours to no end without input from anyone but herself. 

In the end you started appreciating your time together as she spoke about a diversity of subjects ranging from the newest fabric in fashion that season, all the way to the nitty gritty of Narnian politics, coming so far as to even confide in you that she already had a bet for who’d be the one Caspian would marry. Though she didn’t disclose whom. 

Other noble women, apparently, had their curiosity get the best of them.After the initial blow back, on which you had only received vicious looks of anger and envy thrown your way, they decided to attempt to give you a “chance”, despite you having never asked anyone for such a thing. You suspected that their husbands and fathers, members of the council, had something to do with it. Maybe they wanted their wives and daughters to spy on you. Maybe they were trying to get into the king’s good graces through you. Or maybe, the women were simply trying to make nice.

Soon, you found yourself with invited to accompany some of the ladies at sewing club sessions, picnics and breezy walks by the beach..

The first time you went to the sewing club it didn’t go particularly well for you. 

You had been surrounded by four other girls, the five of you sitting in a circle, in a awkward silence for what it felt like hours. 

Your brain worked furiously. Divided into coming up with something interesting to say that would spark conversation between the ladies and attempting the impossible stitching job in front of you. 

You were never skilled in those kinds of manual works, not for lack of interest but more so because there’s was no one there willing to teach you how to properly do those pretty designs, you were mostly just shown the basics of sewing on the name of practicality during the war.

You had been far too young when the world decided to thrust into battle. Soon enough you had to flee everything you knew, including your life as a royal princess, to get far away from your father and his nefarious affairs. So in the end, after being forced to leave everything you once knew behind, learning to how to make pretty dresses had not been high in your priority list.

Sitting in their company, you marveled over the kinds of works that were being developed around you, every once in a while you’d take a peek to what the girl beside you was constructing using solely their creativity and carefully placed stitches of her needle. That made it even worse when you looked down at your own work and panicked seeing that you were basically making a mess knots that looked absolutely nothing like the rose you were initially going for. 

At some point during that first encounter, Lady Anna, granddaughter to Lord Hampton took a peek at your sewing, furrowing her eyebrow as she inquired you. “Hm...what is it exactly that you want to make, your majesty?”

You laughed nervously, finding no way out of such a ridiculous situation. You decided to speak the truth. “Honestly?”, you looked at her, whispering, “I have no idea.”

She laughed out loud, calling the attention of the other girls, for a moment you were frightened that she was going to make fun of you. This of course would be a perfect topic of gossip. You could already hear the chatter: “The Queen of Calormen is useless at sewing, can’t even accomplish a simple stitching task.”

But instead she surprised you, looking into her eyes you didn’t see the venom you were expecting but more so of an incredulous amusement as if she couldn’t possibly understand why you hadn’t said anything before. 

Feeling a bit bold, you decided to give it a shot. “Do you inspect it to see if it can be saved?”, you asked her handing over to her the piece of fabric you had been working on. 

“Oh dear,” she started laughing even harder, “You spent half an hour doing this? What is it supposed to be? The sun?”

“I...don’t really know”,  at that point, you were also laughing.

The other ladies also took notice, interested in what was bringing you and Anna to giggles.

“If I am being completely honest I don’t really know how to do this…”, you spoke shyly.

“How so?”, Lady Cassandra asked, “didn’t you mum teach you at any point?”

There was no malice in her voice, just clear curiosity. 

“Well, my mother died when I was young and these kinds of....more personal intricate tasks weren’t her forte.” 

She pressed her lips together and looked down, clearly embarrassed for bringing this up.

“But it’s okay,” you assured her, “it’s just a little embarrassing that I’m supposed to be a grown woman and I don’t even know how to sew a flower.”

“I imagine you don’t have to do much of it,” Cassandra responded, “being who you are after all.”

You shook your head. “I suppose I don’t but still, I’d like to know. I was looking at all the things you girls were making and I’m just amazed at how beautiful it all can be, seems like a peaceful task,” you chuckled, “a peaceful task if you know what you’re doing, that is.”

“We shall teach you then,” Lady Genevieve spoke. She hadn’t yet said a single word to you, only greeting you with a slight bow. 

Her father was Alistair Bennett and he had already made plenty clear that he wasn’t a fan of your stay in Narnia, and even less of your closeness to Caspian. You knew part of his plans included marrying his sweet daughter to the King. Being aware of that made you weary of her at first so you didn’t really blame her for not speaking to you, as you were sure her father must have had instructed her to not make friends with the likes of you, which only made it more surprising when she was the one who prompted the idea.. 

“You will be spending a few more weeks in Narnia, will you not?” she asked,  “we can get together and help you.”

The other ladies seemed ecstatic at the idea, verbally agreeing on how much fun it would be, already chatting up on the types of designs they’d want to teach you. You were relieved but also a little scared. In that moment you noticed how maybe you had judged them all wrong and instead of meeting them with an open heart you had made previous considerations about how they would be even without knowing them properly. In the same way some of them had done to you. 

They had revealed themselves as being so much more than that. They hadn’t made fun of you with more than simply with friendly banter. You felt grateful, amd very suddenly looking forward being introduced to their world. An unexpected sisterhood in construction. 

You remembered that at some point, during one of the many walks on the beach you went with them, alongside you the same group as usual formed by yourself, Genevieve, Anna, Cassandra and Estella, they finally gave into their temptations and asked you questions about Caspian. 

A topic of conversation you constantly dreaded.

“How...how is he like?”, curiosity spelled all over Estella’s features.

“In what way?” you replied.

“Oh, you know,” Anna raised her voice attempting to be heard over the loud wind, “Is he nice?”.

“Of course he’s nice,” Genevieve interjected defensively, “he’s the king.”

Her words made a tight knot form in your throat, reminding you once more that although she was a very nice girl, she was one of the candidates in perspective to marry him.

Him. Caspian. You shook your head trying to avoid it from going down that path, not allowing yourself to start musing about him in front of others. You owed to yourself to at least keep your shameful thoughts confined to your bedchamber.

“Well, tell us something else, then!” Cassandra spoke.

They stopped walking, all gathered in a circle, expectant looks painting their faces. You let out a defeated breath, looking away from them in direction of the sea, too embarrassed to utter further words looking directly at them.

“He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met”, you replied with sincerity.

“Kind? Oh lord, is that the kind of feature you notice about men?”, Cassandra giggled.

You rolled your eyes at her. 

“I for one think he’s so very handsome,” she continued, “in fact I’ve heard many say he’s the most handsome man in the whole of Narnia.”

The others seemed to agree, nodding along with her statement.

“Yes! He’s got the most perfect hair, honestly, I’d do anything to run my fingers through it”, Anna admitted, looking away dreamily, “and don’t even get me started on his arms, oh dear.”

Another giggle fit was in order as they waved themselves with their fans smirking at each other. You stared at them uncomfortable, briefly clearing your throat, you decided to just nod along with their statements as they continued to muse about him, going on about his perfect hair, smile and soulful eyes. A false, tight lipped, amused grin forming on your lips when you started feeling that familiar rope tugging on your chest, as if your heart was being strangled. You almost never allowed yourself to think of Caspian in that way, stopping dead on your tracks when your mind started wondering too much on the warm feeling of his fingers against your skin, the way he’d often brush loose strands of your hair away from your face, his bright smile, his lips and what it would feel like to have them against yours. All of this fearing that if you’d start getting used to letting your thoughts freely muse about him, you would be in deeper trouble that you already were. And you feared, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

“I heard he’s going to choose a bride soon”, you heard Anna comment, her voice seemed far away, “do you have any idea who it might be?”

A sudden silence lingered. You jumped out of your thoughts noticing that were all looking at you for an answer.

You shook your head slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”.

“Do you know if the King already has someone in mind? To marry, I mean?”, she repeated.

“I don’t know why would I know anything about that, my lady.”.

“Well, you two seems like good friends…”, Cassandra replied.

“We...um...,” you stumbled upon your words, “we are allies and, as much as I’d love to have an answer to give to your more than pertinent question, the matter of the King’s future betrothal wasn’t an issue that we found having any particular importance to be discussed between the both of us”, you lied.

They didn’t seem convinced, though soon enough they changed the subject from Caspian and started chatting about the upcoming ball for his birthday, babbling on over who was gonna be there, who would dance with whom and the dresses they would wear. 

You were glad for their distraction and the change of topic as you started to space out, no longer paying any attention to the conversation being held. You stared at the ocean ahead, the wind had had already began changing which told you an incoming storm would not be too far away from where you stood. The breeze on your hair made it so that strands loosened from the hairstyle you wore, hitting your face along with small droplets of water from the sea. 

Lately it seemed that whenever you managed to get him out of your mind, someone would make sure to bring him up so much so that it got increasingly harder to focus on anything that didn’t remind you of him. After all, this was his home and you were a mere visitor. Allowed to see the marvels but not truly delight on it’s beauty, constantly aware of how everything was fleeting. Well, not everything. You were fleeting. That’s how your existence in his world was destined to be. 

Having those thoughts really didn’t help at all at slowing down your mind, which was something you had actively been trying to do. 

Slowing down. 

Your thoughts and, therefore your feelings.

Just enough so that you could control your emotions and then, maybe, you could finally stop thinking about him.

In that moment, standing on the beach, all you wanted to do was to go home

Caspian missed you.  He missed you and it made no fucking sense. 

You had been in Narnia for a little over a week at that point and since that day he took you to the village near Cair Paravel he hadn’t managed to find any time to spend alone with you given the countless meetings and affairs he was tasked to partake in. 

Within days, he got increasingly more frustrated as he found that whenever he had free time, you, on the other hand, were busy.

He had even been told by the professor that you had started getting acquainted with other ladies in the castle, going as far as joining them for afternoon tea and other endeavors. 

“Isn’t it wonderful, my liege?”, the professor commented, “she appears to be managing her way around the lords and ladies quite well.”

“Yes, of course,” he gave a tight-lipped fake smile, mumbling the following sentence low enough so that only he could hear, “she is quite wonderful.”

He knew, deep down, that it shouldn’t bother him, but quickly enough he started getting impatient with his own appointments and feeling slightly jealous of all those people that got to spend time with you.

He desperately wished he didn’t feel like this, after all, you were simply accomplishing what you came here to do. Truth was that Caspian had waited so long to be able to just spend quality time with you that when reality hit and he realized that things wouldn’t be as he had exactly hoped for, he felt a bit like a spoiled child being robbed of what he wanted. 

He soon decided that enough was enough. He was waiting around for fate to bring you together.. All he truly needed was a plan. Although he hadn't been able to see and talk to you as often as he had once hoped, he was not going to give up his chances, even if he had to ignore everything and steal you away for the duration of an afternoon. 

Which is how you found yourself once again on horseback, following Caspian’s horse carefully, trying not to fall too far behind.

“Caspian, are you sure it’s a good idea to not bring any guards with us?”, you asked.

He shivered at the sound of you calling him by his name. It was a simple things, yes. But also something you only did when you were alone. Whenever you had company, you would usually would call him “my lord” and “your grace” and though he appreciated your politeness, he couldn’t help but enjoy the sound of his name falling from your lips. It was warm and reassuring. A reminder that behind all the rules, titles and traditions, he was still just a man, and you were just a woman. 

At first, you had frowned at his idea of going out just yourselves, without any guards, narnians or otherwise, to accompany you, but he had somehow managed to convince you to come. He was certain that your royal guards hadn’t been too pleased with your decision to accept his invitation. He knew you worried about safety but he could tell there was something else bothering you. Something you diligently had not voiced. Yet, he insisted, making a point to give you his most charming smile and pointing out that there wouldn’t be many chances to do something like this in the future. In the end, you said yes, and a sigh of relief rushed over his body. 

“Yes, I am absolutely sure,” he responded, “don’t you trust me?” 

“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have come in the first place”, he saw you rolling your eyes at him, “nevertheless, you could at least tell me where we are going.”

“Well, if I did that it wouldn’t be a surprise now, would it?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You are absolutely impossible, you know that? First, you convince to come along with you in a journey to the unknown and now you question my loyalty?”

“Don’t be dramatic, my queen,” he smirked, “let’s go, we have a long way to go still.” 

He tapped his heels against the horse’s side urging the animal to ride faster, you did the same, hurrying back along to catch up with him, riding side by side. 

“I...am without words”, you exhaled, looking around and then straight at him, “it’s not something I ever thought I’d see with my own eyes. 

Before you, stood the legendary stone table, broken when the White Witch had thrust her blade into an innocent soul, forever shaping the history of Narnia, marking the beginning of the reign of the old kings and queens. At least that was the story you had read about, as a kid, on old history books, the forbidden ones you’d often took from the castle’s library back home. Which happened to be one of the many reasons as to why you were often punished by your father when he found the volumes hidden under your pillows. That was, of course, until you got better at hiding them anyway. 

“I felt the same the first time I came here”, Caspian commented, staring down at your figure, a small smile forming on his lips, your expression had a childlike wonder.

“And you lived down here for a bit, didn’t you?”, you asked.

“Yes, though I wouldn’t say I stayed for too long,”, he responded, “the place used to be much bigger, it housed hundreds, but in the battle we had to destroy several of the underground galleries that are now buried.”

“You had to??” you looked puzzled.

“We knocked them down and brought the army on top of us along with it”, a cheeky smile formed on his lips. 

Your impressed look soon turned into a sarcastic grin. “That’s quite clever, your majesty.”.  He watched as you walked around the place, scouring the imprint on the walls, entranced by the magical surroundings you found yourself in. 

“Thank you for showing me this,” you stood in the middle of the room, staring directly at Aslan’s portrait carved into the stone wall, “I never thought I’d have the opportunity to see it. I didn’t even think it was real.”

He walked to your side and grabbed your hand without glancing at you. He noticed how you shivered slightly and wondered why. His voice sounded heavy and thoughtful when he decided to speak the next sentence, unsure of how you would react.

“It would be my greatest honor to show you my world, dear queen.”

You had spent a couple of hours exploring the place. You basically ran around excitedly asking about anything and everything as he explained each drawing on the walls and each item you found. Eventually you made your way to the top of the stones that protected the sanctuary that was a hiding place to the original narnians during the many years of persecution. From there, you could see an entire valley and a castle small in the horizon. You couldn’t remember a time where you had smiled so much. 

The view was like a painting, and yet it was much better because it was real. The trees, peace, quiet. Nature developing free, as it should. A world made of dreams, of which you wondered about its mere existence so many times as a kid. Curious as to where did the magical creatures lived and if they were happy. 

Looking to your side, Caspian was also staring ahead. Though his eyes were farther away and you could tell his mind wasn’t necessarily taking in the view. He seemed to be swimming in recently revived memories of the time he had spent in that exact spot years ago. Thinking of everything that had happened in order for him to make his way back, now, with you by his side. Thinking of the boy he once was and the man he had become. 

You reached for his hand in the same way he had done to you when you were on the inside chamber. 

He didn’t react, other than by simply wrapping his fingers tightly around yours.

You hands were united, knitted in each other as you stood there in silence, with the mutual understanding that sometimes, words weren’t enough. 

At some point, you had made your way back to the horses, with you thinking that you would be making your way back to Cair Paravel, only to be surprised when Caspian showed you a picnic basket with lunch packed and ready. 

You had laughed when he asked,“Did you really think we’d come all the way here just to go back so soon?”

“Well, I do like the way you think,” you replied, “and I also believe the horses could use the time to rest.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” A sheepish smile formed on his lips. 

Soon, you were sitting under the diligent shade of the surrounding trees, right by a small lagoon with a waterfall. You laid on the grass, loose hair sprawled around your head as you laughed and enjoyed the meal. 

There was something ethereal about the sounds of nature around you, paired with his voice. The waterfall constancy, birds chirping, even the wind moving the grass and leafs around you. From where you laid, you had a perfect view of him. Sitting down, his back relaxed, leaning against the nearest tree, his overcoat and sword belt discarded to the side, eyes changing between gazing at your own figure and the waterfall. 

An idea quickly prompted in your head as you sat up. 

“What is it?” he asked, confused as to your sudden movement.

You stared at him, a daring wild look illuminating your features “Do you want to jump in?”. 

He browsed around confused. “Where?”

“In the water,” you emanated a recklessness, something he had never seen in you before.

For some reason, he could feel his heart starting to beat faster. 

“You want to jump?”, he asked.

“Yes,” you exhaled.

“But we’ll get wet.”

You nodded. “Yes, we will, so what?”

He couldn’t understand what made you think of this. Jumping into a lake? For no particular reason? From what he knew, you weren’t one for rash decisions. 

You rose to your feet, starting to peel off your cloak, followed by your dress top. He quickly turned his gaze away from you, his body becoming rigid and cheeks burning with a blush. “My lady, what are you doing?”.

“Well, obviously, I don’t want to get all of my clothes wet, Caspian”, you reasoned, laughing as if his question had been absurd, “they would take forever to dry and I’d be cold.”

He nodded, still too embarrassed to even glance your way deciding to also rise to his feet just so that he could fully turn his back at your only-petticoat clad body. His movement didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“Caspian?”, you called. 

“Yes?”

“You can look.”

“Well...but,” he his entire body heat up even more, “I don’t think I should, your grace.”

“Oh, you’re calling me ‘your grace’ now, are you?”. 

You knew why he was embarrassed. From where you were concerned, you knew he had never seen a woman wearing so little clothing. But it wasn’t like you were naked or anything. Plus, the dresses you wore at Calormen were often much more freeing, flowy gowns, which made it impossible to even consider wearing petticoats at all underneath them. The tradition was apparently different in Narnia, where the ladies wouldn’t ever be seen dressed down to that extent. You respected their options, and choose to partake in the custom during your stay. On the other hand, there you stood, wearing only a petticoat, the absolute opposite of a lady from this land, in front of Narnia’s king.. You didn’t know why such a bold mood had stricken you. All you knew was that all of a sudden you wanted nothing more than to jump into that pond and bathe in the cold water. 

Walking in the direction on the water, you dipped a toe in. You had your back towards Caspian now, and him, curious after the moment of silence, turned once more to look at you. His heart caught in his throat when he watched you sink into the river, submerging your entire self into the clear water before emerging with a smile on your lips and the fabric tightly enveloping your frame.. He fell into a trance as he watched swimming around for a bit, dipping your head back and floating around the pond. He saw you staring at the sky as if nothing had ever brought you so much peace as this moment. He wondered how he got so lucky.. As if Aslan himself had blessed him with this opportunity. To watch you interact with the world around you. To see the water flowing around you, the sun kissing your skin, the wind softly blazing your surroundings. 

“Are you coming or not?”, your voice took him out of his trance.

He looked around checking to see if there really weren't any people around before taking off his boots and then, much to your surprise, he peeled his shirt off his torso. You shifted on your feet, swallowing hard at the sight of his bare skin, swallowing hard and looking down embarrassed for staring, slacked jaw at him. The situation certainly wasn’t proper. Caspian noticed how  shy you suddenly got, trying your best not to stare at him, and grinned at the prospect, his features lighting up in a teased provocation right before he jumped into the water. 

A question formed in your mind. What if someone saw you? It was already not exactly normal for noble lords and ladies to go anywhere without a  chaperone, not only for matters of safety but to protect each other’s reputations. For this reason, it was even more unimaginable for two unwed royals to be meeting in those circumstances. 

And yet, despite everything, there you were. 

Both of you soaking wet. You clad only in your flimsy petticoat, and him with a bare torso, swimming around a pond, not caring about the consequences that might come to any of this. You felt freer than you had in a long time, as if you were challenging the entire world and doing, for once, exactly what you wanted instead of what people expected of you. Hence why you knew that he felt the same way when your gazes finally met. 

He floated towards you, inching closer by each second. His beauty was always striking, but you had never been so captivated as when he reached you. The water reached his chest, leaving you with it almost to the neck. Under the water you felt him taking your hand, slowly inching you closer towards him. So close you could feel his breath on your face. He wrapped one arm around your waist, finally pulling you up to his chest. Your breath caught in your throat. Oh my dear gods, you were so close. Too fucking close. Closer than you had ever been before. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself. 

Your fingers started absentmindedly exploring the warmth of his smooth skin. Everything was becoming almost too much as you glanced at his bare chest, that was until you finally looked up and met his gaze.. His eyes were staring down at you. Was he looking at your lips? As a reflex, you licked your lips unconsciously, which made him intake his breath suddenly. 

You weren’t sure what the hell was happening.

“Caspian”, you sighed, so low as if you were afraid the dead would hear you. You heart was beating so hard against as if it was seconds away from fully jumping out of your chest. At this rate you were sure he could even hear it. Which made it so striking when he started leaning in his head down. Gaze focused on your lips. So close it almost hurt. To see this, to feel all of this. The clear water around you, the sun ablaze, and Caspian there holding you. 

“Do you believe in love?”, you weren’t sure that he actually meant to ask out loud, his voice sounded as if he had fallen into a trance. 

I do, you thought, because I love you.

“I do” you said to him, “I think that in the moment you’d do anything for someone, no matter the consequences, there’s no other explanation for it other than love.” 

“Have you ever felt that?”

Yes, you thought, for you.

And then it hit you.

Trance broken as if something large had hit you with all force. 

You couldn’t say it.

You couldn't tell him your newly found truth.

“Of course,” you stepped back from his grip, releasing yourself from his arms, “I feel that for my brother…”.

You looked down, guilt invading you faster than a string of fire burning through dry crops. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, regretting once again that fateful day where you decided it would be a good idea to come to Narnia. 

Swallowing hard, you articulated. “I feel that for my people.”

A hopeless look dawned his features. Caspian swore to himself in his head. He shouldn’t have touched you the way he had. It was invasive, he thought, of course she’s uncomfortable, no noble woman would’ve liked to be treated like this. He could tell you were in conflict with yourself. Nevertheless, he needed to know. He needed to ask you about something that had been bothering him for a very long time and that seemed like the only moment he’d ever have in which he’d have the courage to say anything. He needed to know if he could still hope. If there was any chance, any world in which had any chance of being with you.

“I mean, romantically? Have you ever felt that for someone as eros or even agape?”, he asked.

“No,” you lied, breath catching on your throat, “I don’t think I have.”

His heart plummeted.

“Do you think you ever will?”, he held a silent prayer. 

“I don’t know, Caspian,” you whispered, “why do you ask me this now?”

His heart twisted in agony, and his mind immediately creating a tale of a lie to tell. 

“Lately, I’ve been quite scared I’ll never feel that”, he answered.

“Oh,” a pang on your chest, “I don’t understand, didn’t you feel that for Queen Susan?”.

He observed you, confused. How did you know about that?

“I’m not sure that I did”, he answered, he didn’t need to lie about this part, “we spent so little time together, I now know that I never truly knew her. I think I might have loved the idea of her, and now, the fact that, for so long, I compared every possible partner with her seems incredibly ridiculous, it’s unfair to compare someone real with a product of your imagination.”

“I didn’t know you had been comparing anyone to her”, your expression turned unreadable.

“I...uh”, he stuttered, “That’s not what I mean…”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Caspian,” you interrupted, sounding resolute “you were much younger then, of course you were bound to fall for the great Queen whose stories you grew up listening to.”

Saying those words had been like getting your chest repeatedly stabbed with a knife.

“I should’ve realized this earlier, don’t you think?”, he asked, his voice sounded far away, ”I should’ve already stopped dwelling on someone I knew I could never have a long time ago.” 

You ignored the ache on your heart. “I don’t think chastising yourself for that will do any good, Caspian”, you tried smile, “the important thing is that, now that you’re ready to move on, what will you do?”.

Silence.

He stared at you.

And then through you.

His eyes changed and he carefully placed his words. 

“Move on,” the sun above was already starting to dip, a clear indication you that your time together was nearly over ”I have to move on.”

A couple of days had passed since that episode with Caspian. You still couldn’t quite wrap your head over what happened. After he told you he was planning on moving on from his teenage love, you’d swam around in an uncomfortable silence. You had completely lost sight of the reason as to you where there anyway. Soon enough you were out of the water, drying yourself in any way you could and quickly putting your clothes back on. You didn’t want to be exposed like that any moment longer than strictly necessary, no longer feeling at ease as you had been before. 

You kept silently chastising yourself for even having that idea. What the hell were you thinking? What had you been trying to accomplish? In the end, the only thing you were successful at is making a fool out of yourself in front of him. He must think so low of me now, you thought. 

The ball of celebration of his birthday was on that evening and you weren’t really looking forward to it. A night of celebration? Yes, of course. And also an evening on which you’d be watching countless maidens fawning over his attention for a dance, a word, a kiss, or pretty much anything they could get out of him. 

The thought of it all made you sick.

It didn’t help that you, more often than ever, caught yourself thinking about him. 

You tried to hide your longing but seeing him in that state, his toned naked chest right up against yours made something click inside you, and you no longer possessed the control you once had. You wondered what it would feel like to touch him. Really touch him. Without qualms, without rules, without boundaries. Just plain exploration of his skin underneath your palms, freely touching every crevice and every muscle. You thought the sensation of how your his figure would be if you had dared to touch your lips to his. Your lips to his pulse. To his shoulders. His chest. His arms. Even his fingers. 

Still, you had a job to do.

It was your responsibility to be there. You had, after all, come all the way from Calormen for this. You were going to attend dinner and make nice with the lords and ladies of Narnia. You would smile, eat and laugh with them. You’d even dance, if anyone was so bold to ask you for one. But more than anything, you’d endure.

Just like your mother had taught you. 

You ears perked at the first notes of the instruments being played echoing through the ballroom. You looked around, Lords and Ladies dressed sharply in their best formal attires. You noticed a few strange looks being thrown in your direction. Most certainly, a few people had not yet managed to forget where you were from and its history with Narnia. You avoided their gaze, sighing, this was obviously something you’d have to live with for quite some time. Narnia’s people were most definitely not as forgiving as their king. 

You watched as Caspian rose from his seat, the long locks of his hair were loose, only kept in place by a crown placed upon his head. His formal attire was impeccable. He wore a long red cape, a lion embroidered on it. The only thing he seemed to be missing was a sword attached to his belt, though he clearly didn’t need such object to look absolutely dazzling in his royalty. 

As he scanned the room, your eyes met for a brief second, just enough time so that he was able to quickly wink at you. Oh dear, here we go. Even after what had happened he kept acting normally, a bit more mischievous even. As if you both were sharing a secret. He still didn’t really seem to notice the effects he had in your heart, not minding on acting as if you just old friends teasing each other.  

The crowd parted as he stepped into the middle of the room, excitement buzzing in the air. You knew what was about to happen. It was the king’s duty to officially commence the ball. For that, he would choose a partner and lead them in the first dance of the night, to which at the end all the other attendees would join in.

No wonder expectations were high. In the past few weeks, word of his impending betrothal had spread and he had met countless potential brides, perfectly acceptable for him to wed. You spotted Genevieve on the crowd, standing right beside her father. She saw you and smiled, only to be then given a quick disapproving look by Lord Bennet. 

The other girls, Anna, Cassandra and Stella were bouncing around in a group, whispering between themselves and struggling to keep their laughters down..

It was only natural that every single person in that ballroom was anxiously waiting to see who would he pick, betting that she’d most certainly would be the first contender on becoming the queen of Narnia. 

The people had hope he’d make his intentions clear.

You knew that. 

As did he. 

It was as if he had read your mind, when your gaze met his. He smiled at you, bowing his head slightly to acknowledge your presence. Him, knowing there were eyes on the both of you. He probably doesn’t want to take any more risks in the public eye, you thought, specially when you knew that the entire palace had heard - and talked - about your most recent escapade.

You mirrored his movements, careful not to seem too obvious. You could feel hundreds of eyes watching your every move, and you had heard enough rumors about how the Queen of Calormen had come all this way to attempt to seduce Narnia’s King. The worst tongs framing all your actions as carefully put military moves. Utterly scandalous.

The truth was a much more ridiculous, even outrageous, behavior for royalty of your level to take part in.

What would your late father say if he ever saw where you were?

Stupid girl, he’d say, venom spilling from his lips, soft woman, never fit to rule. Suffering for love, love for the enemy of your nation. You shame yourself, your blood, your country. 

Once more you shook your head in an attempt to get rid of the very vivid image that formed in your head.

Through your meetings and countless letters exchanged through the last two years, you had managed to fall in love with the him. 

Caspian.

The man, not the King. 

It seemed it happened slowly and then all of a sudden. It had been confirmed when he brought you close in that river. 

Everything turning more clear than ever. And now you were sure that the reason you stood where you were wasn’t solely for peace, or your country, but because of when you received news of his impending betrothal, you had find an excuse to come see him. Though not with any intentions to stop him from getting married or to declare your feelings towards him, all you truly wanted was to see him one more time before he was committed to someone else for the rest of his life, a moment on which he would asseverate being forever unobtainable. 

You knew your heart would break. Nevertheless, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

It seemed you were so lost in your thoughts for a moment that you hadn’t noticed that the muffled sounds around you, had silenced. 

Caspian was standing right in front of you. 

The crowd awaited expectantly.

You shifted on your feet and gave him a puzzled look, silently attempting to ask what on earth was he doing. You saw a glint of mischief in his eyes. Of course, you thought, you should’ve guessed. 

He was refusing to let the crowd bask in their expectations, deciding that instead of giving a showdown on potential suitors he’d play a political move, inviting you for the first dance instead. 

Wordlessly, he offered you his hand, and in turn you gave him yours. 

He kissed the palm of your hand. Eyes never leaving your own. 

“May you allow me the first dance, your grace?”, Caspian spoke, in a poor attempt to keep a smug smile off his lips. 

“It would be an honor, your majesty”, you answered, struggling to keep face. 

The room was in complete utter silence. Looking at the flock you saw many disappointed faces, particularly from the young women who were hoping to be chosen. 

You walked by Anna and Cassandra and saw their smirks and knowing looks thrown your way. Maybe they weren’t as oblivious as you had thought. 

You tried to keep your shock hidden from your features, but the way you held your breath and straightened your back made your nervousness evident.

As he guided you to the center of the room you could see the silence breaking, hisses and quiet whispers taking its turn. Caspian took one of your hands on his and placed his other on your waist, for your part you placed your free hand on his shoulder.

“You really have prepared to give them a show, have you not?”, you asked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lady,” he gave you a savvy look, ”it is my duty, as a King to appreciate and keep good relations with all surrounding kingdoms, and that includes inviting the Queen of Calormen to dance.”

“Well, you could have done that after you had the first dance with a rightful maiden, could you not?”

“Are you not a maiden, my queen?”

You frowned.

“You know that I am.”

“Well then I don’t see your point”.

“All I’m saying is…”

“I should choose the most beautiful maiden in the room to give me the honor of the first dance on my name day festivities, right?”, he cut you off, his eyes sparkled and you held your breath. “I feel that I have done exactly that.”

You scoffed, incredulous to what he voiced and yet, he seemed resolute. 

You should’ve known he’d do this.  He was too clever for his own good. Much more than any of those stuffy lords gave him credit for.

As he conducted you through the room, swinging you softly to the sounds of the music, you allowed yourself to imagine a reality where you could be with him. If he wasn’t a King and you weren’t a Queen. When you could be just a boy and a girl meeting and falling in love. Instead of palaces, you’d dance in the forest, you’d laugh picking apples from trees, you’d swim together in the great sea and sail away reaching new horizons, answering to no one but your own hearts. 

Maybe in another life, you thought, maybe in a time where you weren’t forged from iron and blood and dust, in a moment where you could freely travel the world, meeting all places on this earth until Aslan came to take you to his country. In a time where you could smile and lay down on the grass, barefoot feeling the tickling on the bottoms of your feet, not a worry in your mind but where to go in your next adventure. 

Maybe then you could love him unapologetically, and maybe he could even love you back. 

All of those thoughts rampaged your mind until finally you heard the last strokes of the music, you separated from him and you both bowed slightly to one another. 

The room briefly erupted in polite claps, and soon enough the next tune started playing, the guests joining in the dance floor. 

Before you could react, Lady Genevieve accompanied by her father stepped in between you and Caspian. Lord Bennet made a show of asking if the King could do them the honor of sharing a dance with his daughter.  As if on queue you took that as a sign that it was time to leave, you weren’t feeling that good anyway.

Caspian didn’t have time to protest before you stepped away, making you way through the crowd, trying to find a way to the outside, somewhere where you could get some fresh air. 

Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to take a late night beach walk, though you doubted it was a clever one. But you could probably get Lilyan or Lorian to accompany you and then you’d be perfectly safe.

Suddenly, you felt a grip on your arm. A flash of hope surfaced maybe Caspian had come after you, after all. Turning back, your guard was put right up when you saw the one who had stopped you. Lord Bennet, wearing a carefully placed smile. A smile which you could very easily see through. A lie paired with his cold eyes.

“I would like to ask you, your grace, for a dance”, he stated. He wasn’t asking.

You looked around you feeling trapped. Not even one of your guards were near you. You had nowhere to run. 

“Of course, my lord,” you agreed, letting him take your hand. 

Your body went rigid all throughout the dance, swinging in silence, praying for the song to end sooner rather than later.

“I knew your father, you know,” he whispered, his body uncomfortably close to yours, so close it made you physically sick, “he was a remarkable man.”

“I can’t say I ever heard him being described in such a way by anyone, my lord.”

“Well, he did do terrible things, but I will always respect a man who has goals, and demonstrates the courage to fight for what he wants, wouldn’t you agree?.”

“Even if those goals include murdering and enslaving his own people?”, you quipped.

“As you very much know, dear queen,” his lips came closer to your ear, “none of us are innocent, we all have done things we’re not exactly proud of.”

Your breath caught in your throat. What was he trying to do? 

“Take myself, for one,” he continued, “I want to make sure my family archives infinite prosperity, and would do anything to accomplish my goals...in addition to that I would also not hesitate in do what’s necessary to get rid of anything or anyone, who dared to stand in my way”

You swallowed hard. Looking up and staring into his orbs, a daring look in your face. You weren’t about show fear of that man.

“You say anything or anyone, my lord?”, you repeated.

“Yes,” he exhaled, “anything or anyone, regardless of whom that person might be.”

He held your gaze.

“And so...you should keep that in mind, little queen.” he spat the words with as much poison as he could, promptly dropping your hands, and walked away from you.

You were left standing there in silent fury. Fuck, you thought, if the whole week hasn’t been a testament to anything, this only showed that it was more than time for you to leave.

Ignoring the strange looks thrown in your direction, your feet took you almost by instinct to one of the gardens in the castle which you had gotten to know in that week.

You found yourself staring at the center a fountain that drizzled water in an almost hypnotic pace, a sculpture of a cupid throwing his stupid arrow at a pair of lovers was built right in the middle it.

Caspian was going to get married and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You attempted to control your emotions but his touch had been so striking against your skin that you still felt yourself burning, hot and cold at the same time, everywhere he had touched you. 

You struggled to decide crying or laughing uncontrollably at your own misfortune. 

Maybe you should settle for both. 

“Out here alone, child?”. 

You looked back and saw a shadow approaching the light. 

The figure slowly came into the moonlight and you soon recognized her.

“Lady Helena,” you questioned, “ are you speaking to me?”.

“We are the only ones here, are we not?”.

“Yes, I suppose we are. It's just”, you paused for a moment “I haven’t been called a child in a very long time, and the last one who did was my father.” 

She looks down somberly. It was clear she was aware of the brutal fate he had faced. One that you delivered to him.

“But before him,” you continued, “my mother also called me that. Though, to be fair, if she was alive, I’m not so sure she would refer to me as being one anymore, my lady”.

She seemed interested in your sentence. Crossing her arms, she stepped even closer to where you stood..

“And if you are no longer a child, what do they call you now?”

You sighed and looked up, seeking solace in the stars that shined brightly above you.

The stars that had guided you here. 

The same ones that would eventually guide you home.

“I’ve been called many things. I’ve been called a rebel. A warrior. A wolf. A Queen. Some much worse than that.”

She nodded along, and spoke again, this time in a hushed tone.

“Very well, and what about the King?”

“Pardon me?”, your voice failed in hiding surprise.

“I asked, how does the King refer to you?”, she reaffirmed.

You intertwined your hands in front of you to disguise the shaking. Tears now were beginning to make their unwanted way to your eyes. You cleared your throat. 

“He calls me his ally, a counselor, a friend, even...”, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but notice how your voice trembled.

She looked at you and exhaled, head slightly tilted, pity clear in her eyes.

“Oh my poor child, I truly am sorry.”

You teary eyes stared at her in confusion.

“I don't understand, my lady, what could you possibly be sorry for?”.

Her hand reached in your direction, her palm caressing your hair in a motherly manner.

“My dear, I know how hard must it be for you to have so many at your feet but not the one you truly want. Unrequited love is a vicious creature, especially when it affects true friendship.”

You shook your head, anxiety almost reaching the point of distress.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, my relationship with King Caspian is merely one of admiration, all of it for the sake of peace between our countries, which as you know is a very important matter. Nothing more than that.”

“Don’t fool yourself, dear Queen,” she turned her body to face you, reaching for your hands to caress them softly, her eyes were piercing blue, as if they could see deep within your soul.  You were taken aback by her actions, stiffening as she came closer to you, just enough so that she could whisper. 

“Know this, my darling: everybody sees,” one of her hands rose to your face, carefully tucking a loose strand from your hair behind your ear, “everybody sees the way you look at him.”.

TAG LIST: @a-dorky-book-keeper​ @lilbabyhoneypot​ @bellamys​ @aurora2238​

[poetic-emptiness-fanfic]

Hande Kuura: Anastasia AU

Thanks to @nvvermore, I’ve hopped on AU bandwagon. I realised that Anastasia film and musical both have excellent character dynamics in order to create this AU for my characters. I grew up watching the animation from 1997, and have been a geek of the last Romanovs stuff since I was a child. Because of these facts, I’m going to combine the film, the musical and some real life stuff left out from the adaptations to my alternative universe.

I’m probably going to write even fics about this AU in the future, but for now, I introduce the characters and their roles in it.

Warning: spoilers for Anastasia 1997 film and Anastasia musical - and well, the real events, but I wouldn’t call them spoilers.

Thank you, @juliandev0rak & @leechobsessed for positive feedback when I told about my idea!

Hande Kuura as Anya/Anastasia 

crown princess Hande of Thesa (a country I’ve created around Karnassos, which is the capital of it)

in the AU her surname is Gul, after her father

though Anastasia was youngest of her sisters, I wanted to keep Hande’s age and the age difference between her and Salma the same, so she’s still the oldest child

vivacious, curious, proud, stubborn and kind

normally the crown of Thesa is inherited by the oldest son of the shah, but since Sardar and Helena don’t have any sons, Hande becomes the crown princess and heir-apparent of Thesa

in this AU Hande doesn’t have her magical abilities

like Anastasia in the musical and in real life, Hande is 17 years old, when her family is murdered - survives the shooting, but loses her memory because of it

gets the name Hanieh at the hospital she wakes up in

has a necklace with a pendant with a carving: “Together in Vesuvia” - it opens the music box

Hande is 27 years old when most of the story takes place

Julian Devorak as Dimitri

a young con-man, a former medical apprentice

in this AU Julian is only 4 years older than Hande, which makes him 31-year-old during the story (in my canon he’s 9 older than Hande)

orphaned, used to be an urchin, until his sister took him in

during his teens he was an apprentice of Nazali Satrinava, the personal physician of the royal family

only saw some glimpses of Hande during his time at the palace - dealt more with Salma since Nazali mostly treated her and sometimes even took their apprentice with them

after Sardar II abdicated, Nazali recommended Julian to leave and never tell about his work at the palace - Nazali stays with the royal family

saves his sister from execution, and they become con-men in order to make a living 

Portia Devorak as Vlad Popov

due to technical and moral reasons, I’ve made Portia Julian’s big sister in this AU

she’s 12 years older than Hande, so she’s 39 years old in the story

orphaned, but as a child was separated from her brother and she got adopted by a noble, so she was introduced to the court 

later managed to find Julian, got him out of the streets and offered him education and arranged a medical apprenticeship for him

as a young adult and before the revolution, she had an affair with countess Nadia Satrinava, a married woman 

manages to avoid execution thanks to her brother

Lucio/Montag Morgasson as Gleb Vaganov

originally Montag Morgasson, changed his name to Lucio after the revolution

I also made him a little younger than he is in my canon: he’s 8 years older than Hande, which makes him 35-year-old during the story

in this AU part of the Scourgelands belongs to Thesa

from the family of soldiers: his father Lutz was a member of royal army and his son followed in his footsteps

later, he was promoted to be one of the body guards of the princesses

his father was a part of conspiracy against princess Afsoun (Rasputin of the story), got executed, which filled Lucio with bitterness

ends up betraying the royal family, joins the revolution

in contrast to the musical, Lucio is part of the execution group himself

becomes general after revolutionists gain control of Thesa

Nadia Satrinava as Countess Lily Malevsky-Malevitch

countess Nadia Satrinava, lady-in-waiting of empress Helena

was married to count Satrinava, a Prakran diplomat

befriends dowager prince Armas during his stay in Karnassos

when the second revolution (irl “October revolution”) starts, she manages to escape from Thesa to Vesuvia - Armas takes her under his wing and hires her

later finds out her husband is dead

during her time as a lady-in-waiting, had an affair with Portia Devorak

like in my canon, she is 41 years old when the story takes place

Armas Vuorimaa as Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna

dowager prince Armas of Fintrike (a country I’ve created around Hjalle, which is the capital of it)

Mielikki Kuura was queen Mielikki I of Fintrike, died like in my canon 

royal family of Kuura governs the country - an ancestor of Mielikki, part of the Forestian minority, was chosen by election, but they changed the system. so the title was given to their issue after their death

after Mielikki’s death Armas becomes a regent, until their oldest child, Paavo, becomes of age

in Fintrike the crown is inherited by the eldest child regardless of their gender

after Paavo becomes the king, Armas first stays in Hjalle as his son’s adviser - after the birth of his first grandchild (Hande), Armas moves to Karnassos 

has a house in Vesuvia, moves to there permanently when Hande is 8 years old, gifts her the music box - their lullaby is sung in Hongas, so the language is one of the key elements in this AU

Afsoun Gul as Grigori Rasputin

princess Afsoun of Thesa, adviser of Sardar II

first child and daughter of shah Kourosh V and empress Aytan (in Thesa the crown is inherited by the eldest son)

strong-willed, refuses to marry anyone, and searches for magicians in order to practice her own abilities

has huge influence on her brother, who trusts her about almost everything

has her magical powers, and is called “the witch” by her enemies

uses her magic to treat Salma during her numerous illnesses and ailments

unlike Rasputin, Afsoun isn’t womanizer (she’s still aroace in this AU)

though, she is rumored to have an affair with her brother’s wife 

is assassinated at the age of 49 by some members of the court, including Lucio’s father Lutz - this happens a few months before the first revolution (irl “February revolution”)

Sardar Gul as Tsar Nicholas II

shah Sardar II of Thesa

second child and first son of shah Kourosh V and empress Aytan

becomes the shah at the age of 26

falls in love with Fintrikean princess Helena - at first his parents oppose the marriage (they didn’t like Fintrikeans), but after Sardar’s father’s health declines, he allows his only son to propose

though, unlike Alexander III, Kourosh gets to see his first grandchild before his death

Sardar is a loving husband and father, but mediocre, indecisive and conservative as a ruler (like Nicholas II)

is executed alongside of his family at the age of 43

Helena Kuura as Empress Alexandra Feodorovna

empress Helena of Thesa

second child and first daughter of queen Mielikki I and prince consort Armas of Fintrike

falls in love with the heir-apparent of Thesa, prince Sardar

like empress Alexandra, Helena is shy and reserved which is seen as arrogance by common people of Thesa

is fascinated by magic, relies much on Afsoun’s abilities when it comes to Salma’s ailments

has great influence on her husband, especially when it comes to the officials of the court and government, also manages to carry through the exceptional law which makes Hande the crown princess of Thesa

is executed alongside of her family at the age of 42

Salma Kuura as Anastasia’s siblings

princess Salma of Thesa

I decided I won’t create other siblings for Hande, so Salma is still the only one

she doesn’t have tsesarevich Alexei’s hemophilia, but is otherwise sickly

very close to Hande, also friends with Asra

becomes acquainted to Julian when he’s apprenticing with Nazali, sometimes tells Hande about “a nice boy” who kept her company when she was sick

is executed alongside of her family at the age of 15

Asra Alnazar as “himself”

there wasn’t a suitable role for him in the film or in the musical, so I created my own, is still a year younger than Hande, like in my canon

a childhood friend and later a companion of crown princess Hande

his parents were part of service staff (Aisha was nanny and tutor, and Salim tutor of the princesses)

Aisha and Salim are part of the few staff members of the palace who voluntarily stay with the royal family during their imprisonment, and Asra being a teenager comes with them

Asra loses his parents, because they are executed with the royal family

is ordered to help the soldiers to get rid of the bodies, and notices that Hande is actually alive

hides her and brings her to a hospital

is the one who tells the hospital staff that Hande’s name is Hanieh

in order to protect Hande and himself, leaves and tries to rebuild his life on his own

Muriel as “himself”

there wasn’t a suitable role for him in the film or in the musical, so I created my own, like in my canon, is 5 years older than Hande

orphan and former urchin, has supported himself as a street fighter (among everything else)

meets Hanieh after she arrives to Karnassos with amnesia

the duo becomes friends, and they help to support each other

Muriel arranges work for Hanieh, also teaches her to fight

is supportive of Hanieh’s dreams to travel to Vesuvia one day

doesn’t trust Julian, but hears that he can arrange a visa for Hanieh, so he tips Hanieh on the opportunity

Muriel doesn’t know Hanieh is actually a princess

If you’re not familiar with my other characters, here are some links to help to understand this AU:

Hande’s family tree

introduction to Hande’s immediate family

introduction to Hande’s paternal family

introduction to Hande’s maternal family

[axwalker]

We used to be friends

To catch up : One decision.

Book: The Royal Romance (half AU/half canon or my HC anyway…)

Pairing: Drake x Mc Drake x Liam (friendship?)

Disclaimer:  Drake, Liam and Valtoria belong to Pixelberry.

A/N: This is  Prompt #32 “I’ve never lied to you” from @emceesynonymroll​  Wacky Drabbles (Thank you for hosting this!)

Word count: 1500 (Sorry! I really tried)

This is my personal opinion on the reasons that drive Liam and Drake to act as crazy as they are acting in TRH. 

Tagging: @emceesynonymroll​ @mskaneko​ @pedudley​ @burnsoslow​ @princessleac1​

Liam and Drake usually met on his personal quarters but when Drake had called, the solemn tone in his voice had made Liam set the meeting at his royal office. He didn’t know what Drake wanted, but something told him he wasn’t going to be pleased about it.

He sighed thinking about their friendship, it definitely had taken a toll since the day Drake had finally come clean about his feelings for her.

Well, come clean was not really the best way to describe it, after all, he had discovered their relationship when he was on one knee, proposing. He could still feel the pain, not only because of her rejection but because of his best friend’s betrayal. Months and months of lying and deceiving from the person he trusted the most in the world.

Their friends didn’t judge Drake because they only saw one lie, one deception. But they both knew it was much more than that. It was the hundreds of nights drinking whiskey in his bar while he talked hours about her as Drake listened and nodded without once hinting that their friendship had become something else. It was all the times he had confided in his best friend after she had canceled on him once again, and Drake had comforted him while knowing that he was the reason behind it. It was the day he had told him he was going to propose, and Drake had congratulated him without admitting the truth.

So no, it wasn’t one lie, one time. It had been hundreds of them, months of them.

Of course, he was aware of how emotionally crippled Drake was. Liam knew how difficult it was for him to admit he was capable of feeling anything at all, let alone falling in love for someone, and accepting that that someone loved him back. He knew about all the women that had thrown themselves at him only to get close to one of the princes. And he was grateful. Drake had always been there for him and had dropped his life no questions asked to support him when he had needed him the most, he also knew that Drake would give his life for him. They were brothers and Liam would never forget that.

All those reasons had allowed him to forgive Drake and try to move on. Except he hadn’t. Giving her Valtoria and naming her child heir of the kingdom had been both a blessing and a curse. As he had intended, it had allowed him to spend time with her, but also to be a sad witness of how in love with Drake, she was.

After a while, he had tried to get her out of his system by dating numerous women and focusing on Cordonia’s future. He had even been the best man at their wedding. One of the worst days of his life, he didn’t wish on his worst enemy the pain of seeing the love of his life marry his best friend. He had done it, but it hadn’t been enough to forget her or to mend their friendship. Even if they saw each other regularly, they were with Max and Leo, or watching a horse race or a football match. Their conversations never ran very deep, he didn’t want to hear how happy they were together, it was painful enough to see it written on both their faces. At least until recently. Lately, he had noticed that Drake was almost as bitter as he was before her. And Alexis wasn’t happy anymore, her contagious laughter had almost disappeared and the passion he loved so much about her was gone. He wondered if that was the reason Drake wanted to meet him. Had he lost her already and now he came to him for comfort? Could it be…?

Drake parked the car at his usual spot in the Palace and stop the engine. He stayed inside the car a few minutes to collect his thoughts, he didn’t doubt their decision for one second, but he knew it would be a shock to Liam. Again.

He sighed thinking about how much he had hurt Liam in the past years. It hadn’t been their intention, they had even tried to ignore the strong pull they had for each other, but their relationship had seemed unavoidable. From those early days when he had doubted her intentions and tease her incessantly, to the strong friendship they had built during the social season, and the consuming passion that had started with that kiss on the Beaumont’s study, every moment of their relationship had been a step closer to each other. He hadn’t lied to Liam intentionally, Drake had truly believed that Alexis was going to choose the king at the end. So, he decided to keep quiet about her because it would hurt less when she’d finally left him. 

Nonetheless, the truth was that he had hurt Liam so deeply that his friend seemed unable to move on even after all that time. And the last year had been torture for the three of them. Drake knew his best friend was a good, generous man, but he couldn’t help but doubt his intentions behind giving her Valtoria and naming their daughter the heiress.

Finally, he got out of the car and went to meet Liam who was already waiting for him in his office. He was sitting on his desk with a scotch lost on his thoughts.

Drake entered and they greeted each other with a nod of the head, as Drake poured himself a scotch from the bottle next to Liam and took his usual place across the young king.

“Well, here we are, Drake. Why was it so urgent that we meet?” Liam asked in a commanding tone. 

Drake cut to the chase, there was no point in delaying it anymore “We want to leave Valtoria, Liam. We’re not made for the noble’s life. Either of us”

Liam furrowed his brows “Helena cannot be the heir of the kingdom if you are not nobles Drake, you know this”

Drake looked at him knowingly.

The realization hit Liam. “Oh, you don’t want her to be the heiress anymore either,” he said as he leaned back on his chair.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t realize the amount of sacrifice it would be for us, and especially for Lena. She’s barely one and already engaged, Liam!”

“I told you we were going to get out of it, just give me a little more time,” Liam said tiredly.

“It’s not only that. We simply don’t want to be nobles anymore. This can’t be a surprise for you Li, you know that I’ve always hated this stuff. We both do”

“We? You keep talking for the two of you, but I don’t see Alexis anywhere. It looks like it’s you who want to quit, and you are using her as an excuse. You’re only thinking of yourself but she deserves-”

Drake raised his hand interrupting him “What? More than I can give her? The life of a queen? Believe me, I know that,” he gulped his drink. “I also know that for some fucked up reason she doesn’t want any of it. She’s miserable there”

Liam stood up holding his glass. “Maybe that is what you want to think. Maybe she’s quitting to make you happy.”

Drake didn’t take his eyes off of his friend. “That has always been the problem, Li. You don’t know her”

“Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Drake, but I think it was made perfectly clear that I didn’t really know either of you.”

Drake raked his hand through his hair.  “It’s been two years, you have to let it go. Let her go.”

Liam walked towards him “Oh, Drake, I have. That doesn’t mean that I had forgotten what you did to me. She came here for me. Did you forget I was the reason she left New York to come to Cordonia?”

Drake felt the old pang of jealousy at Liam’s words, so he stood up angry as well.

“No, I haven’t, but she fell in love with me while you were engaged to Madeleine. Have you forgotten that? You’re rewriting history, Liam”

They stood a few inches from each other. “You’re right Drake, I made a lot of mistakes concerning her. I shouldn’t have chosen Madeleine at the coronation or let the guards take her, and it was certainly a big mistake to ask her to be my mistress. So, I’ll admit it, when it comes to Alexis I can see where I failed. But you?” He cocked his brow “I’ve only been a brother to you. You deceived me for months, and I’ve never lied to you. You stole my only chance to be happy” He was so angry he barely realized he was shoving Drake.

Drake raised his hands bawling at him “You have never lied to me? Do you really think I don’t know why you gave her that damned duchy seconds after proposing? Do you really think I can’t imagine why the hell you named our daughter, her daughter the heiress?” He pushed Liam back “Don’t say you have never lied to me because you’re fucking doing it right now, Liam. You might be entitled and oblivious but I’m not. You’re still in love with my wife”  

[nenuials]

Thank you for your answer! Do you have any appearance preferences for each of those characters from the previous ask? Hair colour, clothing style, skin tone, etc? Everyone has their own personal imagining of characters' looks, so I'd like to be able to get into your imagination a bit more! :D

Oh, oooh I most certainly do! Buckle up!

For Halbarad, my fancast for him is S3 Guy of Gisborne from BBC Robin Hood. He is described in the books as having sea-gray eyes, dark hair and a grave voice. I have commissioned artists in the past to depict this rendition of him here and here and I believe they’ve done a most splendid job! I envision him wearing the star brooch all the dunedain have, but the depiction of it I like best is this one. He is also second in command of all the dunedain, so I think he would wear the circlet present in the first art I shared, one thin line of silver with a single shining seven pointed star. Aragorn is his chieftain, his best friend, his lord and king. I imagine the bond the two must share is truly special. I also like to think he was very close to Arwen, as Arwen was the one to task him with carrying the standard she sew in secret for Aragorn, and delivering it to him and also Aragorn’s future wife. I mused on their bond in this edit I made, also the entire gallery of this artist does an incredible job in emulating my feelings on the bond the three must have shared, but this piece in particular is amazing. For clothing, I do like the clothing Guy has in Robin Hood and I could see Halbarad wearing something like that, but LOTRO does a wonderful job. His Grey Company uniform is the most beautiful out of all of them, although the normal ranger outfit doesn’t look too bad. There’s just so many scenes I could envision him in, him leading the Grey Company, mounted on a gray steed, with Elladan and Elrohir by his side. Him doing his duty by the side of the other rangers, garbed in the greens and browns of the rangers. Him in the Prancing Pony one quiet evening, listening to the tales of the other patrons, hiding a smile under his long hood. Him in Sarn Ford, looking with a worried brow over a map and planning a skirmish. Him coming to Evendim and admiring the beauty of lake Nenuial and so on. God, I could talk about Halbarad so much.

For Mithrellas, my fancast for her is Helena Mattson as Salindra in Legend of the Seeker. Mithrellas is one character that’s just so special to me, since to my knowledge she is the only elf who married a mortal without asking for the favor of the Valar and whose children were not granted the choice of whether to become mortal or stay an elf. She literally just did what she wanted, damned be the consequences. She paid for it, in the fact that her husband and children grew old and died, while she stayed unchanged, which prompted her to leave her family and never look back, so that’s why all I want is to see her happy by the side of her family while she still has the time.

I don’t have very much to say about Elendil apart from the fact that my fancast for him is Brynden Tully from Game of Thrones. LOTRO does a beautiful job at depicting Annuminas. And since he was the first king, I like thinking about him reining in there for what time he had.

For Luthien, my fancast for her is Fan Bingbing in White Witch of Lunar Kingdom, and I’ve made some edits here, here and here, also this edit is fantastic to give you an idea of what I picture. For Thuringwethil my fancast for her is Akasha from the vampire chronicles. Some excellent edits are here and here. I like Beren x Luthien, it’s what the tale is about after all, but sometimes you just need some wlw in your life you know? All the angst, all the enemies to lovers, the potential this ship has!!! I’d probably love a scene with them just being gals, you know gals being pals, chilling together. 

[wearesuchstuff1]

Star Crossed

What happens when you take a Star Wars obsessed nerd who is getting a graduate degree in Shakespeare Studies and you put her in quarantine with three essays to write for almost two months?

A Star Wars/Shakespeare AU for every one of Shakespeare's plays!

Read on AO3.

     All's Well That Ends Well  

Kylo as the King and Rey as Helena.  Kylo has been stabbed by a lightsaber.  Who stabbed him?  Totally not Rey, what are you talking about??  Rey offers to heal Kylo with the Force (because that’s apparently a thing you can do?).  Kylo doubts she can do it, but Rey offers to make him a deal - either she fails, in which case Kylo can kill her, or she succeeds, in which case she gets to choose her husband.  Kylo agrees to this, secretly hoping that if she does manage to cure him that she will choose him as husband and not that annoying Rebel pilot or that ex- Storm Trooper.  Rey does manage to heal Kylo, but instead of throwing herself at Kylo, Poe, or Finn, Rey decides she’s a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man and this way none of them can push the issue because she gets to be the one who ultimately chooses who, or if, she marries.  Sorry Shakespeare, this play’s super annoying and I am not inflicting most of this plot on my Star Wars babies.  

     Antony and Cleopatra  

Leia as Mark Anthony, Han as Cleopatra.  Leia is a very busy, powerful, accomplished leader of the Resistance.  Everyone looks up to her and she has lots to do as her Rebel forces battle the Empire.  If only Han Solo weren't so damn sexy and distracting…

     As You Like It  

Ray as Rosiland and Finn as Orlando.  After escaping from Jakku, Ray must seek her family in the Forest of D'Qar.  Finn, in love with Ray and fleeing the wrath of the new, hostile government, also ends up in the Forest.  There, Ray finds her family, learning that family does not begin or end with blood, and learns to find “tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones and good in everything.”  

     Comedy of Errors  

Anakin managed to avoid the temptations of Palpatine but when Palpatine discovers that Padme is pregnant they, with Obi Wan’s help, agree that the children must be kept safe from the Sith Lord.  In the wake of Order 66 Padme takes Leia and C-3PO on one ship and Anakin takes Luke and R2-D2 on another.  The twins are raised apart but when Luke comes of age, he sets out with R2-D2 to find his twin.  Hijinks and hilarity ensue, but in the end Luke and Leia, R2 and 3PO, and Anakin and Padme are all reunited.  

      Coriolanus  

Obi Wan as Ophidius, Palpatine as Menennius, and Anakin as Coriolanus.  Palpatine is intent on shaping the warrior Anakin in his political image.  Anakin would much rather stab things with his lightsaber and rail against the establishment than put up with politics.  Obi Wan and Anakin are gay for eachother.    

     Cymbeline  

Leia is Imogen, Anakin is Cymbeline, Palpatine is Anakin’s evil lover, Palpatine's clone son is Cloten, Han is Posthumus.  Leia married Han but Anakin doesn’t approve because Anakin and Palpatine want Leia to marry Palpatine’s clone son.  After Han has been kicked out he goes to Jabba’s palace and sends Jabba the Hutt to try to seduce Leia because Jabba tricks Han into betting that Leia won’t betray him.  Jabba brings “proof” to Han of Leia’s supposed infidelity and Han sends Chewie as Pisonio to lead Leia to the deserted deserts of Tatooine to kill her.   However instead Chewie brings a disguise for Leia to dress up as a boy to keep her safe from Han.  Dressed as a boy, Leia gets separated from Chewie and meets Obi Wan (as Belarius) and Luke (as Guiderius/Arviragus).  Leia doesn’t know that Luke is her brother and after she falls ill she takes a potion given to Chewie by Palpatine that ends up making her fall into a dead sleep.  I can’t be bothered to explain why.  Thinking her dead, Obi Wan and Luke plan to bury her until Palpatine’s clone son, dressed as Han and looking for Leia, arrives and, because he is rude, gets his head cut off by Luke, who lays him (headless) next to Leia.  When Leia wakes up she thinks that Han is dead and, in great despair, Leia goes off and pledges herself as a page to Tarkin, who is leading the Empire’s fleet against the Hutts.  There is a big battle where Luke, Obi Wan, and Han kick ass, and at the end all mistaken identities are revealed, Palpatine dies and confesses his sins (not in that order), Han and Leia discover they were only tricked into thinking they didn’t love each other, and Leia still gets to strangle Jabba.  In conclusion, this is a batshit play.  Thanks Shakespeare.    

     Hamlet  

Well it’s not Anakin because he doesn’t take any time to ponder anything before killing the people who killed his parent.  He just kills them.  And not just the men, but the women, and the children too…

Ben Kenobi tells Luke that Vader killed his father.  Horrified by this information, Luke sets out across to Galaxy to confront Vader.  By act five Luke has stabbed the Emperor through a curtain (thinking him to be Vader), Vader and Luke have both been stabbed with a poisoned lightsaber, General Tarkin has drunk poison intended for Luke, and Princess Leia is knocking on the doors of the death star.  With his dying breath Luke tells his school friend Biggs (who Luke is not-so-secretly gay for) that he gives his vote for Leia to run the Galexy after he is dead.  At this point Ben Kenobi is beginning to wonder if maybe he shouldn't have lied to Luke about his father after all.  Also, R2 and 3PO are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.  

     Henry IV, Parts I and II  

Han as Hal and Jabba the Hutt as Falstaff.  Hanging out with Jabba and his other lowlife friends has given Han a bad reputation.   Despite Jabba's insistence that they be partners in petty crime and enjoy all the entertainment and Corilian Rum the credits from their crimes can buy, Han must grow to realize that his friend is holding him back from his true place in the Galaxy and that he ultimately must turn away from his old (large) friend in order to become a General in the Rebel Alliance and to stand by its Princess's side.    

     Henry V  

Jyn and Cassian know, as their small band of brothers lands on the beaches of Scarif, that they are outnumbered ten to one.   Nevertheless, as they prepare to head once more unto the breach they are determined to make ten men feel like a hundred.  They know that if they are mark’d to die, they are enough to do the Rebellion loss; and if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honour.  They fight valiantly and are able to bring the Rebellion hope by sending the plans for the Death Star to Princess Leia, but in the end none of them outlive that day, nor come safe home.  

     Henry VI, Parts I, II, and III  

Despite the threats posed by the Clone Wars, the Jedi look above all else to their religion, leaving the path open for their enemies to take from them their power and, ultimately, their lives.

     Henry VIII  

Obi Wan is Anakin’s first wife and Padme is Ann Bolyn.  Anakin cheats on Obi Wan and the Jedi Order with Padem.  When the world finds out (youngings’) heads will roll.

     Julius Caesar  

Snoke, Kylo, and Hux as Caesar, Brutus, and Mark Anthony.   Despite his pledged allegiance to Emperor Snok, Kylo turns against his master and stabs him with his lightsaber, inciting a power struggle between Kylo and Hux and some impassioned speeches to the gathered Storm Troopers.

     King John  

Palpatine as King John, Mace Windu as the Pope, and Anakin as the archbishop (and Hubert).  Palpatine, in order to assert his influence over the Jedi and to continue to bring Anakin under his power, insists that Anakin be appointed to the Jedi Council.  Mace Windu is furious that Palpatine would interfere in this way and attempts to “excommunicate” him from the Republic.  Anakin turns on Mace Windu and the Jedi Order, and Palpatine sends him to the Jedi Temple to kill the younglings (specifically a youngling named Arthur).  However, when actually faced with the task Anakin is unable to do so.  Instead he lies to Palpatine and tells him the younglings have been killed.

     King Lear  

Lear/Cordelia as Vader/Luke.  Vader is slightly (maybe a lot) crazy and angry and he tries to give his son, Luke, part of the Galaxy, providing Luke pledges his allegiance to Vader and the Dark Side of the Force.  Luke is not having it so Vader cuts Luke’s hand off.  In the end, after some battles, Vader realizes Luke is in the right just in time to die.

     Love's Labour's Lost  

By swearing off attachments and secluding themselves in their Temple, the Jedi believe they will better be able to learn from and serve the Force.  But then Qui-Gon Jinn meets Shmi Skywalker, Obi Wan Kenobi meets Satine Kryze, Ahsoka Tano meets Lux Bonteri, and Anakin Skywalker meets Padme Amidala.  Together they learn that attachments are not so easily avoided.

     Macbeth  

The Nightsisters, led by Mother Talzin, predict greatness for Darth Maul.  In fact, when he is apprenticed to Sidious, Talzin predicts that Maul will become the most powerful Sith Lord and that he will soon become the master, no longer the apprentice.  Fueled by this promised power, Maul, encouraged by his wife Lady Ventress, plans to kill Sidious.  However, he is disturbed by Talzin's predictions that while he may become more powerful than even Sidious, it is Sidious's future apprentice, Darth Vader, who’s children will defeat the power of the Dark Side.  Thinking himself invincible thanks to Mother Talzin's predictions he sees no reason to fear the two Jedi who arrive at the Naboo palace of Dunsinane in a ship called the Birnam Wood.

     Measure for Measure  

With the Empire not giving a fuck about the Outer Rims, Jabba is left to his own devices on Tatooine.  When Jabba captures Luke and tries to feed him to his pet Rancor, Jabba proposes a deal with Leia that if she stays with him he will let Luke go.  Already feeling that she is married to the Rebellion, Leia is torn between her love for the Alliance and her love for Luke.  Ultimately Leia decides she’s better off strangling Jabba while Luke blows up his ship.  Even though this isn’t what Mariana actuall does in the script it’s what she should do becasue fuck the patriarchy.    

     Merchant of Venice  

In a last-ditch attempt to save the Republic she loves, Padme comes before the senate and reminds them that 'the quality of mercy is not strained'.  She advises them that mercy 'is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes the throned Emperor better than his robe: his lightsaber shows the force of temporal power, but mercy is above the lightsaber's sway".  Her impassioned speech reminds the senate to see past the blood lust fueled by Palpatine and the Clone Wars and Padme single handedly manages to avoid the death of democracy to thunderous applause.    

     Merry Wives of Windsor  

Jabba the Hutt is Falstaff.  That’s all.

     Midsummer Night's Dream  

Finn and Poe, both thinking they are in love with Ray, follow Ray to a forest planet.  Rose, in love with Poe, follows him.  In the forest R2-D2 and his young companion BB8 use trickery and (Force) magic to help the humans sort out this love triangle mess (yes, this does make C-3PO Titania). Finn and Poe realize that they are actually in love with each other and Ray reaffirms that she is a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man.  Rose gets left in the woods because J.J. Abrams forgets about her.  

     Much Ado about Nothing  

Leia/Han as Beatrice/Benedict.  Despite the seemingly daily war of words between Princess Leia and Han Solo in the hallways of Hoth’s Echo Base, it seems every Alliance member except the Princess and the smuggler knows that the two are in love.  While the verbal battles continue (some more sophisticated than others - Han’s only available comeback to Leia’s rather weak “scruffy looking nerf herder” jab being “who’s scruffy looking?”) Chewbacca, Luke, R2-D2 and a relatively confused and unwilling C-3PO ‘undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to bring Han and the Princess Leia into a mountain of affection the one with the other’.  By the end both Han and Leia are separately convinced the other is madly in love with them and relent (purely out of the goodness of their own hearts and not at all because of any feelings they might have) to save the other from their suffering and agree to marry them.  Also Jar Jar Binks is Dogberry - do not question it.    

     Othello  

In order to serve his own purposes, Palpatine manages to turn the righteous and lauded warrior Anakin Skywalker against his wife, Padmé Amidala, with whispered lies and deceits, resulting in Anakin choking and, ultimately, killing the woman he loves.  That’s it.  That’s the film.

     Pericles  

Anakin as Pericles, Padme as Thaisa, and Leia as Marina.  After fleeing from Mustafar with Padme, Obi Wan and Bail Organa watch helplessly as Padme gives birth to twins then, seemingly, dies.  Afraid to bring more attention on themselves from Sidious and his new apprentice, the men place Padme’s body in an escape pod and eject it near Jedha.  What they don’t know is that Padme is only mostly dead (which means she is a little bit alive).  When her escape pod is found by a young local force user named Chirrut Imwe he brings Padme back from the brink.  Knowing that her husband is dead to her and with no way to contact her children, Padme decides to dedicate herself to the Force at the ancient Jedi temple Chirrut and his husband Baze Malbus brought her to.  Meanwhile, Leia is raised by Bail and, when she is old enough, dedicates herself to the Rebellion (sorry guys, I just can’t bring myself to have Bail try to kill Leia).  However, when Leia is captured by the Empire she is brought before Vader.  They talk and compare stories, and through their connection in the Force they realize that they are father and daughter.  At the descovery of his daughter Vader decides ‘you know what, fuck the Emperer’ and casually destroies the Empire.  Then the Force leads Anakin and Leia to Jedha (which hasn’t been destroyed because of reasons).  There they discover Padme living in the temple of the Jedi.  After a tearful family reunion with Anakin, Padme, and Leia, the three eventually decide they had better go save Luke from spending the rest of his life as a moisture farmer on Tatooine.  

     Richard II  

Ben Solo as Bolingbrooke and Luke as Richard II.  Luke, hoping to raise Ben Solo in his image, is heartbroken when he senses the dark side in his nephew.  In a sudden and desperate attempt to keep the dark side from the world Luke banishes Ben (with his lightsaber).  Furious at Luke’s betrayal Ben turns to the dark side and destroys everything Luke has sought to build.

     Richard III  

Turning against his own family, Kylo Ren murders and betrays in order to obtain the position in the First Order he believes his lineage affords him.  Hux is Ann.

     Romeo and Juliet  

Finn has been raised to be a Storm Trooper since before he can remember.  All his life he has been taught to hate the Resistance.   Poe’s parents were Alliance members during the time of the Empire.  They raised him to stand against the First Order.  Finn and Poe thought they knew their beliefs, until the two meet and, despite all they have been taught to believe, fall desperately in love.  They are, quite literally, star crossed.  BB8 gets drunk off fermented oil and delivers a Queen Mab speech in exclusively beeps and whistles.

     Taming of the Shrew  

The Alderaanian Princess is a bit of a firecracker and has no time for anything in her life but the Rebellion.  So when a smuggler shows up and decides to try to win her over Anakin, who did not turn to the Dark Side, laughs and says he’s welcome to try.  Meanwhile, Bodhi Rook, Wedge Antilles, and Biggs Darklighter (yes, this IS his last name…) are all vying for Luke Skywalker’s attention.  When Luke goes to Anakin and wines ‘but daddy, I want to get married’ Anakin makes a new rule: “YOU’RE NOT GETTING MARRIED UNTIL LEIA GETS MARRIED!”.  In order to have a chance at marriage Luke must team up with Chewbacca to help Han tame Leia.  It doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone except Han that it is actually Leia who ends up doing the timing.  

     Tempest  

In (self-imposed) exile a grumpy, gray haired Luke hangs out on an island strong with the magic of the Force.  Ariel is a Porg.  

     Timon of Athens  

Despite the Clone Wars, Obi Wan Kenobi is glad to be well liked and surrounded by friends he trusts.  Then one day his friends (specifically his best friend and a bunch of clones) betray his ass.  So what does he do?  He runs off to the Outer Rim to the sandiest fucking planet he can find (because his ex-best friend hates sand) and spends the next 19 years being poor and grumpy.

     Titus Andronicus  

Seriously, the only story I know with more severed limbs that Titus Andronicus is Star Wars…

     Troilus and Cressida  

When Padme married Anakin Skywalker they exchanged vows, of course, but they also exchanged pieces of clothing.  It’s an old Naboo tradition that Padme’s mother loved and Anakin found cute, so why not?   It was a silly thing, but the sleeve Anakin gives her stays with Padme, folded neatly in a small box, as Anakin fights the Clone Wars throughout the Galaxy and Padme fights them in the Senate.  But then Anakin falls to Darth Sidious’s powers and when Padme confronts him he almost chokes her to death.  Almost.  After giving birth to two healthy children Padme, Obi Wan, and Yoda agree that it will be safest for the twins to be raised apart in order to better hide them from the Dark Side.  Obi Wan takes the boy to Tatooien and Padme’s friend Bail Organa takes the girl to be his adopted daughter.  Padme, seperated from her children, spends the next several years traveling the Galaxy, doing good where she can and keeping herself away from her children, afraid that her presence will endanger them.  But Darth Vader finally catches up with her.  She is captured by the Sith Lord and taken prisoner and her already shattered heart breaks once again when she is brought before him.  Her captor demands that she be his, insisting that she love him and give up her foolish affection for the foolish boy she met on Tatooine all those standard years ago.  To prove her new supposed devotion to Vader, the Empire, and the Dark Side of the Force, Vader demands Padme supply him with a token of her affection.  From her small pack Padme draws out a box with an old but neatly folded sleeve within. She hands it to the Sith Lord, a token of her love, in the hopes that it might remind Vader of the love Padme bears for another man.    

     Twelfth Night  

After escaping Darth Vader with the plans to the Death Star, Luke and Leia, twins raised together as royals on Alderaan, crash in their escape pod on Tatooine.  Believing her twin brother to be dead, Leia dresses as a man to better hide from the Empire.  She is hired by a handsome smuggler named Han Solo, who sends her as an envoy to the palace of Jabba the Hutt, hoping Leia can gain information about Han’s lost love Qi’ra.  Han is intrigued by his new hire and his apparent aversion to the Empire while under her disguise Leia finds she is falling in love with Han.  Jabba is confused about why this petite boy Solo keeps sending wants to know about someone named Obi Wan Kanobi, Chewie is considering changing up his single munitions belt style with some fancy cross-gartering, and somehow Luke ends up at Jabba’s in a slave bikini.

     Two Gentlemen of Verona  

Lance and Crab - Ray and BB8 on Jakku.  Ray, having no family to speak of, designates her left shoe to be her mother, her right shoe to be her father, her staff to be her sister, her hat to be their maid and she is the droid.  No, the droid is herself, and she is the droid - O, the droid is her, and she is herself.  Ay, so, so.  She plays out her imagined family life with shoes and staff, bringing herself to lonely tears. Now the droid all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word; but see how she lays Jakku’s dust with her tears.

     Winter's Tale  

Abandoned after his family exited pursued by a (space) bear, Baby Yoda finds a new protector and adopted father in Din Djarin, the Mandalorian.    

     Cardenio and Love’s Labour’s Won  

These two are the 6 hour uncut Phantom Menace because they are lost and I would give my first born child to see them.

     Sir Thomas More, The Spanish Tragedy, and Edward III  

All the books/legends - not because of the plot, but because although George Lucas had very little to do with them they are really only known, by those who know them, in association with him and his works.  There is a large debate by ‘scholars’ as to whether they should be accepted as canon or not.

     Bonus  

Chewbacca is ecstatic when he hears that an Alderaanian princess has taken up residence in the detention block of a nearby moon space station.  He hopes that this princess might be the perfect match for his handsome yet headstrong smuggler friend.  After all, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Alderaanian princess in possession of a good fortune of Credits, must be in want of a husband.

I must give a huge thank you to my friends who put up with me while I did this and contributed fabulous ideas!  Vaxildamn, Dazingparadise, Kaethe, and Eric, I couldn't have done this without you!

[violetsmoak]

Tabula Rasa [1/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183281/chapters/47822500

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: Tim and Jason have known they are soulmates for years, though neither has said anything about it. Tim thinks Jason doesn't know, and is just trying to live with it. Jason thinks Tim knows but doesn't care, which is fine with him, he thinks the soulmate thing is a crock anyway. But one night, a minor mishap forces them to confront the issue head-on, leading to a series of events no one could have predicted.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #a lie #bright vivid colours #danger #enemies to lovers #soulmate aversion #soulmark tattoo

Canon-Compliance: Follows the New Earth continuity, with elements of New 52 (ie the ones that don’t completely contradict everything that happened pre-Flashpoint). Ignores Rebirth completely. So, up to about 2016 in terms of publication dates? Robins War happened, but Red Hood hasn’t met Artemis or Bizarro, and nothing bad has happened to Roy ffs! 

Beta Reader: I'll get back to you on that.

________________________________________________________________

“Three cheers for the happy couple!”

The south wing ballroom of Wayne Manor erupts with the raucous shouts and applause of a hundred and twenty reception attendees. Tim’s congratulations get lost in the din, but he does catch Dick’s eye and flash him a thumbs up.

Seated at the high table, his older brother leans in and kisses his bride, which causes more cheering and catcalls from the guests, and makes the normally unflappable and newly named Barbara Gordon-Grayson blush.

Tim turns away and pastes a smile on his face as the Davenports, a senior couple and two of Wayne Enterprises' most influential shareholders, approach him.

Time to be ‘on’ again…

A generous mix of family friends (most of whom are vigilantes or heroes), and GCPD officers, fill the ballroom. These are interspersed with a few Haly’s Circus performers, and the requisite number of elite guests required by the Society pages of the Gotham Gazette.

Bride and bridegroom sit at the head table with their respective entourages, engaged in animated chatter. Babs and her maid of honor Alysia dissolve into laughter as Dick says something to Damian, who scowls and turns redder by the minute. The Gordon family is there, the Commissioner conversing in stiff politeness with his ex-wife Barbara, and Bruce is in full “Brucie” mode. In the background, Alfred directs the hired staff with his usual decorum and efficiency.

Across the room, Cassandra drags Stephanie over to the dance floor. At a smaller round table near the bride and groom, Duke just misses being speared with a fork by his girlfriend when he tries to sneak a piece of Izzy’s cake. Helena flirts with both Luke and Kate and Tim’s sure Selina is somewhere in the house stealing something to lure Bruce over to her place later.

It’s rare to have so many members of the family together in one room, and so Tim does his best to ignore the lingering dismay at the glaring absence in their numbers.

Dick and Babs look at each other now and again, like they’re the only ones in the world, and he makes an effort to find it adorable. He bolsters the jovial front he’s been wearing all night, reminding himself that his happiness for his brother and new sister-in-law isn’t something that needs faking. It took so long for them to sort everything out between them; it goes to show that being soulmates doesn’t equal an automatic perfect relationship.

I know that better than anyone.

It’s just getting more difficult with every passing hour to maintain the graceful Timothy Drake-Wayne façade.

“It will be your turn next,” Mrs. Davenport informs him, while her husband nods along. “Since Richard and dear Cassandra have found their matches, you’re the only one left.”

Tim’s smile becomes a little more forced. “Well, there is Damian.”

The demon brat looks as if he swallowed a mouthful of peppercorns as Brucie leans over and ruffles his hair, laughing his raucous fake laugh.

Now I’m glad Dick didn’t ask me to be his best man, or I’d be the chump stuck up there.

Not that he was that upset when he heard the news.

Tim’s distanced himself enough from the loss of Robin to accept Damian needs as much help as they can offer if he is ever to be a ‘real boy’. Little gestures like this from Dick are part of a larger plan. And it was endearing, in a way, to see the kid stomping around in the weeks leading up to the wedding, trying to check off a list of best man duties he’d printed off the internet.

And dissolving into teenaged fury when innocent things went wrong or when the groom teased him by flouting what Damian considered ‘according to convention’.

And then there was that bachelor party he organized…

It would seem extreme trampoline parks were a thing; also, getting banned from said parks within an hour for trampolining while drunk was a thing.

“Yes, but he’s still so…young,” Mrs. Davenport says, bringing him back to the present. Tim perceives how she hesitates on the best word to describe the youngest member of the Wayne family.

“It’s fine, you can call him a prepubescent terror. I always do.”

“Oh, Timothy!” Garish laughter as if he told the most hilarious joke of the season. “You are such a character. Why haven’t you found your someone yet?”

Tim catches sight of Steph once again, dancing with Cass and looking carefree and blissful and in love. And this time it’s a bit harder to experience only joy for his siblings, more of a struggle to fight the pang of hurt and jealousy that rears its head.

“You’re almost eighteen,” her husband remarks, interrupting his thoughts. “Most people find their matches much younger. Eleanor and I met when we were fourteen.”

“Oh, it was a beautiful summer in the Hamptons.”

“And it seems like youth today are finding each other earlier every year.”

“My sister and Stephanie didn’t,” Tim points out, only somewhat strained because that one still stings.

He and Steph had been together for most of their teenage years. She hadn’t possessed a soulmark, and Tim’s…would lead nowhere. He truly loved her, and if things were different, he knows they would have had a happy future. Lots of people whose marks don’t match are.

But then the day Spoiler and Black Bat met, they’d shaken hands, and everything fell into place. He’ll never forget either of their eyes—Steph bemused as her mark appeared for the first time and then exploded into color across her forearms; Cass puzzled until she realized what was happening. Then her face became an open book of joy rivaled only by how she looked when Bruce told her he intended to adopt her.

Faced with their happiness, it was only natural that Tim took a step back, much as it hurt to do.

“Perhaps your soulmate lives in another country,” Mr. Davenport suggests; it is clear he is not picking up on Tim’s reluctance.

“Oh!” his wife cries. “You should go on that television show they have now! You know, the one where they try to help you track down your match? I can’t remember the name, but it’s something like The Amazing Race or the Bachelorette.”

“Perhaps yours is younger than you. That happens sometimes.”

“Yes! May-December relationships aren’t that uncommon with your generation, I hear.”

“Or maybe they’re dead,” Tim suggests, and though his tone is light and friendly, his words shut them up in an instant.

Because if very well could be true.

Tim’s never shown off his mark in public, and he told Steph that exact story when she asked all those years ago. At the time, he wasn’t even lying.

Soulmarks develop around puberty and last the duration of the lifespan of the shorter-lived partner. Some people are born with several, the way Dick was, and some only share platonic or familial bonds, like Alfred and Bruce. Others have none at all. When a soulmate dies, the mark associated with them vanishes.

That’s because most don’t come back from the dead.

Still smiling at the now cringing couple, Tim takes his leave, letting them stew in their faux pas as he wanders toward the bride and groom’s table. He’s reached his limit.

Not wanting to crouch down in the middle of their group, he gestures until his brother sees him and makes an excuse to Babs. She’s following his gaze, offering Tim a worried look, but he smiles and shakes his head, trying to telegraph ‘It’s nothing. Go back to your celebration.’

Dick is red-faced and his eyes brighter than usual when he gets to Tim; people been plying him with generous amounts of alcohol all day. “Hey, Timmy, what’s up?”

“I think I‘ll make my way out,” he replies. “Do a bit of patrolling and then turn in.”

“Tim…”

Dick’s expression becomes concerned, and Tim shifts in discomfort.

“Someone has to be on the streets while you guys are slacking,” he jokes. “You know it took an Act of Alfred to get Bruce to take the night off, right?”

(It was also pointed out that if any of big players had planned anything tonight, probability and precedent suggested they would try it at the Gordon-Grayson reception.)

“You don’t have to do that! I’ve already got one brother missing.”

“Consider this my wedding present. You get to stay and enjoy your party with the rest of the family.”

“You’re just trying to worm your way of giving us a real gift,” Dick accuses, but the words lack malice. With a surreptitious glance around to ensure they aren’t being overheard, he lowers his voice and asks, “Are things getting bad again? Do you need to talk? Because Babs won’t mind if I duck out for a bit.”

And he’s always doing this, checking in with Tim, even years after it’s been an issue.

There’s a distinct possibility Dick has noticed how uncomfortable the atmosphere is making him, despite him doing his utmost to hide it, to keep from casting a dark cloud over the festivities.

And Tim should be okay.

Bruce is back from having lost his memories, Damian’s stopped his determined attempts to sabotage or kill him, his relationship with Dick is almost normal again, he has his team and place with the Titans, and there hasn’t been a major crisis in Gotham for about a month which is a record.

Yet he still feels raw and exposed, ill at ease in his skin.

Bruce has been questioning him a lot more, criticizing the way he handles not only cases but projects at WE. Tim worries there’s less time for him to recover between being Tim Wayne, CEO, and Red Robin. And the Titans are getting to the age where many of them want to strike out on their own or pursue more civilian interests—jobs and schools and a normal life. He respects that, even if he doesn’t understand it.

He has never had a normal life, and never will.

But he does have more and more days now where he looks at himself in the mirror and wonders how he’s supposed to keep doing this forever. Can’t figure out how Bruce has managed it for so long. Tim suspects he’s becoming little more than his daytime public persona and his nighttime alter ego.

Who exactly is Tim Drake?

Instead of voicing any of this, though, he musters up a comforting smile for his brother and assures him, “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s like every day. Just one step at a time, right?”

Dick’s expression clears then, and he nods, relieved. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“And Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“Congrats.”

“Aw, thanks, Timmy.”

A bone-crushing hug later, and Tim’s car peels out of the estate parking garage, still ignoring the growing pit in his stomach.

He returns to his apartment in the Theater District, shedding his suit and tie in a pile that Alfred would have a coronary over if he were there to see it. Jumping in the shower, he scrubs himself of any traces of his cologne or other identifying scents he might have picked up at the reception and tries to get himself back into a clearer headspace.

He pauses for a moment at the sink, trying to shake off the lingering, bone-deep exhaustion. Several prescription bottles line the mirror—various sleeping aids, most of which don’t help anymore (but the rebound insomnia of stopping them isn’t worth the trouble). These days it’s only the heavy-duty sleep narcotics that work when he needs to turn his brain off for a few hours.

Among the personal pharmacy are several combinations of anti-depressants he tried in the past few months. Most of the time he powers through it, the way he’s done his whole life, but in recent weeks Tim’s noticed things getting hard again. The helpful alerts he sets on his phone don’t always convince him to leave his bed and even video games lack the usual draw. He sometimes gets lost in his head for hours; on bad nights, he hesitates a second longer before shooting a grapple line or dodging a knife. In rare moments, he considers his sleeping pills a little too much consideration, at which point he calls Dick or Connor. Talks to someone so he isn’t so alone.

As he dries off, Tim stares down at his right wrist, examining the complicated knotwork design emblazoned there. Swirls of crimson and gold loop in and out of each other, before cutting off along his forearm.

Everyone has a soulmark, an arrangement of swirling shapes across their skin; each is distinctive to the individuals bonded by them. They first appear when a person is in the general vicinity of their soulmate, manifesting as a colorless pattern of darker and lighter shades of melanin. Those patterns fill with bright, rich colors upon physical touching one’s mate. When pressed together, they interlock in only one way and retreat when contact stops.

Soulmates who have reciprocated bonds sport their marks in full and everlasting display. The sight is both beautiful and frustrating to see, even on his family, as he’ll never experience that himself.

His mark might be a stunning amalgamation of scarlet and gold, twisted into a mandala upon his wrist, but it will never be permanent. While it’s been a while since Jason’s made any energetic attempts to kill him, Tim’s resigned himself to living without a completed bond; tolerance is about the only thing he can hope for from his predecessor.

Finding Steph when they were younger had been a joy and a relief. Her not having a mark meant they both had a chance for a fulfilling connection. Until Cass.

Tim forces himself to stop dwelling on it and shoves the bleak thoughts down behind the wall he puts everything uncomfortable and not cohesive to whatever task he’s given himself. Instead, he busies himself with covering up his mark using the spray-on cover that doesn’t fade with water or perspiration, only coming off when scrubbed with a special soap. One of Bruce’s earliest and more practical inventions, since Brucie Wayne and Batman couldn’t have a soulmark in common.

Bruce covers his pretty much all the time, but Tim’s only been covering his when he suits up. He lives his life in disguise, he doesn’t want to hide such an important part of himself when he’s off the clock.

He heads down to the lower levels of his Nest, gets dressed while having the computer scan for trouble. The program calculates probabilities for where violence will crop up, where he should begin his patrol. He hopes for a busy night, something to distract him from his convoluted thoughts.

As usual, he intends to start his rounds off in Tricorner, and then go through Chinatown—which is when he notices movement on a camera that concerns him.

A familiar gleaming scarlet helmet.

Red Hood.

He debates with himself for several minutes.

On the one hand, it’s his regular patrol territory; on the other, seeing the other vigilante tonight, while his mood is already so low, isn’t something he wishes to contend with.

He clenches his fist.

He knew of Jason Todd for a year before discovering the second Robin was his soulmate. By the time he wanted to do anything about it, the older boy was dead, and Tim consigned to grieving in secret.

Then Jason came back, but it was almost worse than him being gone because he hated him. Without having ever met him.

Even now that he’s mellowed out (sort of), Jason appears to reserve more dislike for his successor than anyone else in the family, not counting Bruce and Dick for obvious reasons. Red Hood and Red Robin have run into each other enough in and out of costume that there have been ample opportunities for Jason’s soulmark to make itself known. That Tim has seen nothing close to resembling it means one of two things: either the other man hasn’t developed his mark yet, which is possible albeit rare, or he has, and like Batman, always keeps it covered.

Which says more than enough about his sentiments on the matter.

Between Jason refusing to acknowledge their connection, or just not being aware of it, Tim prefers to believe the latter, if only to make himself feel better. There’s no point in bringing up the soulmate thing at this juncture. He decided years ago to respect the status quo, for the simple reason it’s less painful than the alternative.

All that being said, he doesn’t enjoy watching Jason get in trouble, even more so when the situation is avoidable and he’s near enough to help. At the moment the big idiot is courting a potential gang war.

Sometimes protecting someone means protecting them from themselves and their bad choices, I guess.

Static crackles through the comm in his ear, and then he hears Batman’s low growl. “What’s going on in Chinatown?”

“Why am I not surprised you’re still listening to the comms at your son’s wedding,” Tim sighs. “Nothing. I’m handling it.”

“Are you sure?”

“B, I’ll help A drug you every day for a week,” he threatens. “And you know we both can and will find new and interesting ways of doing it.”

There’s a huff on the other side of the line. “…Noted. Reach out if you need backup.”

“You’ll be the first.”

“You’re lying.”

“Wow, you must be a detective or something,” he deadpans. “Red Robin out.”

Jason is the last person he wants to run into right now, but Tim’s also been cultivating a few informants there and he can’t have that jeopardized.

Looks like I’m going to Chinatown. Hope Lynx is in a good mood…

He wonders if tonight he’ll end up getting beaten up, or just insulted. He’s not even sure which would hurt more.

⁂

Jason goes flying out of the upper story of the restaurant, followed closely by a very tiny woman wielding a very big sword. She reminds him of Cheshire, with a shade less lethality.

Actually, if it were Jade, he would end up critically injured when she lands on him, using him as a cushion against the pavement. He manages to turn his body to land in a way that won’t break his back—though his right side will be a giant bruise tomorrow—and scrambles to his feet.

This is one of the reasons I avoid Chinatown.

Things never go well for him here, especially not since that thing with the Su family. It’s just better to avoid the place. But before that, he and the Ghost Dragons at least used to get along—professional courtesy and all that, along with an unspoken agreement not to step on each other’s toes. 

That’s over, apparently.

All he’d wanted to do was ask some questions. One of his stool pigeons passed him some information on a human trafficking ring; according to him, it was based on Chinatown. It would seem sex slavers were luring young women over to the United States with the premise of work and accommodations.  Then, upon arrival, the girls were hauled into a life of sexual servitude.

Jason didn’t even go in guns blazing this time or wearing the helmet. Just a domino and a hankering for some barbecue pork bun.

So, either someone tipped them off what I was coming around for, or this kid in the mask has something to prove.

There’s a slow curl of heat moving up the back of his left wrist and up his arm, and his first thought is he’s been cut. Except while the sensation is familiar, it isn’t the liquid warmth of blood.

The woman moves fast, and a beat later her sword is swinging downward. Jason’s hands fly to his holsters, thinking he’s going to have to break out the guns after all when there’s a clang.

Suddenly there’s a bō staff in front of his face, catching the sword inches before it slams into Jason’s nose.

Ah. And there’s the other reason I avoid Chinatown.

Because in the past year or so, it’s been part of the patrol route for a certain Timothy Drake.

A.k.a. his replacement.

A.k.a. Red Robin.

A.k.a. his soulmate.

No wonder that warmth in his hand was familiar; the soulmark must have reacted to the younger man’s approach.

After a brief tussle, there’s the sound of a grapple line firing, and then Tim flies upward, ridiculous cape fluttering, still holding the struggling woman.

Her sword stays on the ground.

“Oh, hell no,” Jason growls, because this is his business, damn it!

When he reaches the roof where Tim’s carried off Jason’s would-be-murderer, he notes they are standing close together, conversing in rapid Cantonese. Jason’s rustier at that than he’d like, but he gets the gist when the woman stalks right up to him and begins yelling and gesturing.

Then she shoves him and pushes away; a smoke bomb goes off, and then she’s gone.

Tim makes no move to go after her.

Which, seriously?

Jason stalks over, looming over the shorter man and touching his hand to the still holstered gun in his belt in an implicit (and mostly baseless) threat. He’s always amused at just how much of a height difference there is between him and his replacement, and tonight he makes a point of lording it over him.

“You guys looked awfully cozy there, Timbers.” Which shouldn’t bother him, but he can’t fight a twinge of irritation. “Care to share with the class what your little tête-à-tête was about?”

The cowl covers Tim’s face, but Jason can imagine the judgemental stare.

“She said your poking around her territory will jeopardize her investigation into the sex traffickers.”

“Her investigation? She’s the damn head of the Ghost Dragons!”

“Yeah, and she’s also an undercover operative sent by Hong Kong PD, which I’m only telling you, so you don’t decide to go and kill her for apparent crimes.”

And that was not what he was expecting.

“How do you know this?”

“She told me. She’s one of my CIs.”

“And you believed her?”

“Cass looked into her for me. She’s legit, even if she’s a little…unorthodox.” Tim’s head tilts to one side, considering; with the cowl it makes him look like his avian namesake. “You’d think you’d appreciate that.”

“On the list of things I don’t appreciate, you showin’ up while I’m chasin’ a lead is one of them,” Jason growls. “Don’t you have a party to be at?”

“I ducked out early.”

“Well, that’s lame.”

“Not as lame as someone who ignores the fifteen invitations he was sent.”

Ah, and now they’re back on familiar ground.

“Pfft, I’ve seen enough Brucie to last me several lifetimes.”

“Yeah, but it was for Dick. All you had to do was show up—” his mouth twitches here; Jason can’t tell if it’s amusement or irritation, “—in jeans, even.”

“I’ve been dead once; I don’t need Alfie murderin’ me for that big a faux pas. And somehow I doubt Barbie would appreciate if her wedding photos included Dickiebird sporting a swollen eye.”

Tim sighs. “What are you fighting about this time?”

“Other than the usual stuff? We’re not. But I’m sure he’d put his foot in it at some point and need a nice bit of cognitive recalibration.”

“And you, the perfectly innocent party in all this, would happily provide that?”

“Call it a civic duty.”

Tim shakes his head, but Jason thinks it’s done in amusement this time, instead of exasperation.

“I don’t know how she can settle for that birdbrain,” he continues. “How does she stand bein’ around him so often without wantin’ to punch him in the face every time he opens his mouth?”

“Maybe not every time.”

“Point still stands.”

“Well, they’re soulmates,” Tim says vaguely, distant like he’s not paying attention to what he’s saying. He fiddles with his wrist computer, giving no indication that he is aware of anything else.

Jason’s pretty sure that’s not the case.

After all, he’s practiced in the art of pretending not to feel how his soulmark warms the closer he stands to Tim. There’s no question Tim’s learned to do the same.

It might be hypocritical of him, but that makes him angry somehow.

“As if that explains it all,” Jason sneers. “Come on, Replacement, I thought out of all of them, your whole logical-scientific-question-everything-Klingon-mind wouldn’t go for that hokey soulmate crap.”

“Vulcan.”

That brings him up short. “What?”

“It’s Vulcan culture that’s more focussed on logicality and empirical data-gathering. Klingons are more combat-oriented and tend toward more aggressive means of…” He trails off when he realizes Jason staring at him. “What?”

“You complete nerd,” Jason tells him. “No wonder you left the wedding early. I bet socializin’ with normal people probably stressed you right the fuck out, didn’t it?”

Tim gives a noncommittal shrug.

“Havin’ a soulmate doesn’t mean people should be together,” Jason goes on, filled with the sudden need to hammer home this point. “Look at all the examples from history—Cleopatra and Antony, Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Bonnie and Clyde—” He ticks the couples off his finger. “They were all soulmates and they all either made each other miserable or got each other killed.”

“You can’t apply a few historical anomalies to every soulmate pair,” Tim counters. “Life circumstances skew the data.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that fate shouldn’t decide if people will magically work out!”

“That’s not…” Tim appears frustrated, at last, putting down his wrist computer and clenching his jaw. “It’s not supposed to work out magically. It’s about finding the person who completes you. You still need to work at it. It’s not all magically going to fall in place, and you’ll be happy forever right away. Even soulmates don’t get to live perfect lives.”

Ain’t that the truth, Jason muses, considering Tim.

“Sounds like you want a soulmate,” he points out, a little stiffly, and what the hell possessed him to say that?

He wonders what the kid is going to say now, or if this is the day their careful pretense, the lie of not knowing gets shattered.

Luckily, though, Tim avoids opening that can of worms.

He takes a step back from Jason, looks away and mutters, “It’s not relevant to the Mission.” Which is a total cop-out, but Jason will take it. “Anyway, if you’re done causing trouble here and riling up the gangs, I’ll take my leave.”

“Wish you would.”

Tim shoots him an unimpressed glare—or at least, that’s what it seems like to Jason. “Don’t make me come back here. And for god’s sake, at least call and congratulate the happy couple.”

He grapples away rather than allow a witty retort; Jason watches him go with a scowl. Once he’s sure the other vigilante is gone, he tugs the glove off his left hand, frowning at the whorls of crimson and yellow retreating down his forearm and back to his wrist.

His soulmark appeared one night a few evenings before the Garzonas incident. Jason vaguely remembers swinging through an alley to escape yet another argument with Bruce and knocking out a bunch of thugs threatening a kid. He’d been so buzzed on adrenaline and fury he hadn’t noticed the warmth in his wrist. He only caught sight of the mark itself when he returned to the Cave.

And then he spent the night wondering if one of the assholes he knocked around was his soulmate. It wasn’t a comforting idea, and he’d decided then and there to cover up the mark and forget about it. The disappointment about his potential soulmate had been a contributing factor in a long line of shit the universe decided to dump on him that sent him to Ethiopia. If he was linked to scum like that, he wanted to be as far as possible from Gotham.

It never even occurred to him to imagine the kid in the alley was his match. Hell, it didn’t even register when he discovered that Tim Drake had been following Batman and Robin around for years.

Only that day at the Tower, when Jason made his first move against Batman and attacked his replacement, did he finally make the connection.

His mark reacted the minute they were in the same room, spreading across his skin and swirling about seeking its partner. Jason had been so far gone with rage that the sight of it had made him angrier, made him hit harder—because if he didn’t meet Tim before, it meant their bond hadn’t been strong enough to keep him from making the biggest mistake of his life.

It meant he was supposed to meet him after being ripped apart and rebuilt as a weapon.

Luckily, or not, Tim was unconscious before the manifested completed, sneaking out from beneath the long green gauntlets of Jason’s fake Robin suit.

And if he did happen to notice before passing out, the kid hasn’t said anything about it.

Probably hates me and doesn’t want to acknowledge the universe’s idea of a shit joke.

Jason doesn’t blame him. Soulmates are a crock of shit anyway, and Tim’s better off without being tethered to him, and vice versa. They should keep pretending.

Because Jason doesn’t get to be happy.

And Tim deserves better than him because Tim—as much as he’s a pain in the ass—is good.

“And on that note,” Jason murmurs to himself, putting his gauntlet back on, “time to play the villain.”

The tip he received put him in the Ghost Dragons’ crosshairs—which means someone on his payroll is making a move, either against him or against someone else.

Time to find out for sure.

And no more moping over this soulmate crap.

Johnny Lino is the head of an investment company that’s just a front for his money laundering. He’s been passing the Red Hood information about his clients for the better part of a year now, ever since Jason put the fear of Hood in him. Quite a feat, considering the man’s a few inches taller and broader.

Jason finds him in a condo off the Diamond District, watching the Knights game and stuffing his face with pretzels.

Ponzi schemes don’t buy manners, I guess.

“Johnny,” he greets in a clear, would-be friendly manner that has the older man choking up his most recent handful. “Long time no see. Got a bone to pick with you.”

He expects there to be some mumbling and groveling, a few bald-faced lies that require the generous application of foot to face and the reassurance that everything in Jason’s sandbox is back to the way it should be.

So, it surprises him when Johnny scrambles for something that Jason notes too late is a panic button. All of a sudden, half a dozen masked men in combat gear and carrying assault rifles are busting through the door.

“That’s a bit of an overreaction to some conversation, don’t ya think?” Jason asks, throwing himself into action to deal with the interlopers. Bullets fly and knives slice toward him, but in five minutes he’s standing in the ruins of the room with six unconscious men.

And one dead one.

Johnny’s got a neat hole in the side of his head, from one of his hired muscle’s guns, Jason presumes.

“And doesn’t that say a lot about the quality of hired muscle in Gotham these days?” he grumbles, kicking at the body. “Can’t even trust your own people not to shoot you by accident.”

He can hear sirens, knows a neighbor or someone has called in the noise and heads for the fire exit before anyone can link him to the scene. That’s all he needs is the big Bat thinking he pulled the trigger in there.

And damn it, the giant bastard was one of my best sources. Now I’ve got to find someone else.

The encounter bothers him.

He’s had people on his payroll get shifty before, but it’s been his experience that there’s more of a prelude before the attempt to stab him in the back. They try to run or talk their way out of it; it seems Johnny went all out, trying to take out the Red Hood, all because of a bit of questionable information.

If he was so desperate to hire a kill squad rather than answer some well-deserved questions…

Maybe it’s not me that spooked him.

He thinks back to the shot that killed Johnny, remembers the angle it hit the head, and where the exit wound was. The opposite direction from where the thugs entered—from the window.

“There was another shooter,” he realizes.

A quick visit to the building opposite confirms his suspicion: the scrape where someone set up a tripod, bullet casing rolled to one side.

It wasn’t Johnny afraid to talk to the Red Hood—someone else feared he would.

Question is, were they worried he’d talk or worried he’d talk to me?

⁂⁂⁂ 

Next Chapter

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<3 Violet

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Hey guys!! Your patience throughout this entire story-telling process has really meant a lot to us. I can’t tell you how much of our hearts and souls were put into this massive project that we only ever intended to be an imagine. The world that we’ve built over twenty seasons has grown bigger than either of us imagined and we’re so incredibly grateful for you guys--for still reading it, for becoming just as invested in the characters and story-lines as we were and for your amazing support for the story. Only three episodes left, plus an alternate ending!

EPISODE 47

Captain Williams walked into the interrogation room where Omar was being held, file in his hand. He had Ramirez right where he wanted him. All that was left was to turn one of his men, the evidence would speak for itself.

“Omar Diaz...hope you had a good night’s sleep,” he said, sitting down across from Omar. “So, Omar. What do you know about this clean up that went down a few weeks ago?”

Omar quirked a brow. “I’m not saying anything without Rita present.”

“Oh yeah, your lawyer,” Williams replied. “That’s fine, but between you and me, you got a problem, brother. Your boy, Julio, gave you up and I’m willing to bet money that any one of those clowns will gladly give Nevada Ramirez up instead of spending twenty-five to life upstate. You might wanna start thinking about where you fall in all that.”

“Lawyer,” he repeated, putting emphasis on each syllable as he looked up at the man defiantly. He wasn’t a snitch, and he wasn’t worried about the other men. Not now. His primary focus had to be with his brothers and keeping loyal to them. The rest didn’t matter.

Williams held his gaze for a moment before he slowly bobbed his shoulders. “Suit yourself. Sure hope your daughter doesn’t get too traumatized when she has to visit her daddy in Attica.”

“You leave my kid out of this,” Omar said, poker face on. Inside he wanted to punch this guy in the face, but he kept it to himself.

“You’re the one that can keep your kid outta this, Diaz,” Williams answered. “You think Ramirez will care if she’s gotta grow up without a father?”

“I think my brother cares about his niece. That’s all I know.”

“I don’t doubt that, but I also don’t think that he’d put your kid over his own. I’m a father too, man, and I gotta tell you, I’d turn on my mother if I knew it was gonna spare my kids any pain,” Williams replied.

Omar rolled his eyes. “Lawyer.” He knew Nevada wasn’t like that. They were all a family.

“Suit yourself. You better pray no one in your clean up crew doesn't talk first,” Williams replied, walking out of the room without another word.

“Captain, we got one of the guys talking. He says he and his crew cleaned up a lot of blood, mostly in the kitchen. He also said he saw Ramirez and the Diaz brothers walking out with a heavy looking duffle bag. Said they were heading for the stairwell,” one of his detectives said.

“I’m willing to bet that bag had a body inside,” Williams replied thoughtfully. “Have CSU take another look inside the apartment. And have them check the stairwell and the back door of the building. With any luck we’ll get something to tie Ramirez to the murder.”

“Yes, sir.”

Captain Williams nodded. “Good work, detective.”

Amber came over the next day to help you clean the house while the kids were gone. With Nevada having given you a vague text about not coming home, you found yourself deciding to take advantage of the time to do a deep cleaning of the house.

“Remember when excitement used to be keg parties and anonymous sex?” Amber said with a smirk. “Now you suggest deep cleaning and I acted like it was Christmas morning.”

You laughed. “Right? I got way too excited this morning.”

“Did he say why he stayed out all night?” Amber asked as she fished a sippy cup from beneath the couch.

“Nope, just texted me, not coming home tonight,” you said in your best impression of your husband. “As long as he’s not dead, I assume work is just getting pretty crazy.” You started moving to tug all the dvds out of the cabinets, sorting out the ones none of you had touched in over a year.

“Weird,” she replied as she got the sippy cup open and peeked inside, nearly gagging when the stench of sour milk escaped. “Oh God.”

“Huh…” You scrunched your nose. “I’ve been looking for that sippy cup. Where was it?”

“Under the couch,” Amber answered as she all but ran to the sink to rinse out the cup and fill it with soapy water to soak.

“That sounds about right,” you said with a shrug. Once you’d sorted the DVDs you started putting the ones you didn’t watch into a garbage bag. “Tell me if you want anything.”

“You’re putting them in a garbage bag, how will I know?” she replied with a smirk.

You heard the buzzing of your phone, though you couldn't see where you’d left it. You searched around before finding it at the bottom of the garbage back, answering it.

“Y/N Ramirez, Professional House Cleaning service,” you teased. “How May I direct your call?”

“Oyeme, where are the rugrats?” he asked.

“Out with Chelsea, why?” You stopped cleaning. “Is everything alright?”

“No, Natalia was the bitch trying to buy Izzy’s art,” he replied. “Oh yeah and Omar got arrested. So did all the guys who were part of a cleaning crew we hired a while back, so everything’s pretty much going to shit over here.”

Your jaw dropped. “What?” That was a lot of information to process all at once. Natalia, wasn’t she in prison? And how did Omar get arrested? They were usually so careful. You frowned, deciding now wasn’t the time for details. “What do you need me to do?”

“Keep you and the kids in one piece till we find this cunt-bag. Lay low, don’t leave the house unless you have to,” he replied.

“Should I call Chelsea? I don’t wanna scare the kids. They should be back in an hour or so.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Chelsea’s vanilla, where she takes them would probably be a place Natalia wouldn’t think of. Chibby’s working on tracking her phone, don’t worry,” he said.

“Okay. We’ll stay here. Update me whenever you can. But if you can’t, I’ll understand.” You frowned. You hated not being able to see him but he had a job to do and you understood that.

“Alright. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I love you,” you said softly.

“Love you too,” he replied, hanging up.

You turned back to Amber, frowning.

“What?” she asked.

“Natalia has been in contact with my sister and Omar got arrested…”

“Again? What the fuck, Omar?!” Amber groaned, rolling her eyes. “Do you know what for?”

“Does my husband look like the type who gives me play by plays? I have absolutely zero details,” you said with a sigh. “Something about a cleanup job? I’m not too sure.”

“Well that can’t be good,” Amber replied.

“Yeah, he told me when the kids get home I need to stay inside for a while until this is handled,” you said, nervously tapping your fingers on your hip.

“And you’re gonna actually do that?” Amber asked, arching a brow. “Just wait here like sitting ducks? What if Natalia’s on her way here?”

“Do you seriously think Nevada wouldn’t already know of she was on her way here?” you fired back. “If Nevada says we’ll be fine, then we’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” she said softly. “I believe you. Is there anything I can do?” she asked. She would help if she could, though her attention had drifted to her ex husband.

“I don’t think so,” you answered. “But thanks for asking.”

“I’m sorry this is happening. I can’t imagine how it must feel.” She truly couldn’t, to have Fallon be in that kind of life-threatening danger was something she didn’t even want to think about. It was times like these she was grateful she wasn’t married to Omar anymore. Nevada made big enemies. Being his wife had to be the most worrying job.

“It’s okay,” you said in a sigh, shrugging as you smiled at her. “We’re used to it. I just have to do to what I have to do, and he’ll do what he has to do.”

“Well, let me stay with you until the kids come back. I had planned to anyway.” She smiled back at you. “And it’s really cramped but if you ever need a place, you know my door is always open.”

“Thanks,” you answered. “Let’s keep going, I want this done by the time they get home.”

She nodded getting back to work as the two of you started on the upstairs. “Do you ever regret not leaving the Heights?” she asked curiously. If anyone had the right to resent the Heights, it was you.

You sighed softly and shook your head. “Honestly, I’ve been down that road so many times and the bottom line is that Nevada would never leave the Heights. So, if I did leave, it would have to be without him.”

Amber nodded. She knew that you’d never do that. You loved him, and it was clear you were his ride or die. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that the Heights was a dangerous place. She felt so bad for your position, you were trapped in a dangerous neighborhood, choosing to stay to be with the man you loved.

She had planned to stay in the Heights to be with Omar, so she knew where you were coming from. When she and Omar had divorced, she had settled roots down here, she didn’t want to leave. But she couldn’t help but wonder if she was staying because it was what was right or if it was just what she wanted. She always got what she wanted. But now she had a baby. She couldn’t put herself first anymore.

She shook the thought out of her head. She took Fallon into consideration on everything. Fallon was her life and she was making the right choices. At least, she thought so.

Rafael sat on the couch with a bottle in one hand and Liam laying on the opposite arm. Helena had already gone to sleep and Roxie hadn’t gotten home yet from her set. He had welcomed the silence, wallowed and stewed in it for as long as he could while it was there.

His eyes were trained on the manilla folder that sat on the coffee table in front of him while his son ate. He had been reeling for the last few nights, exhausted both from being up with Liam and with thoughts of what his future at the DA’s office might look like if he decided to go back. As much as he hated the thought of ending his career prematurely, he felt cornered with only two options--resign or endure in spite of the hit his reputation had taken.

There were moments where his choice seemed easy; he had worked his entire life for his career and he was far from done building it. Still, the idea of having to walk into a courtroom with all eyes on him, judging him and wondering how he could stomach advocating for victims when as far as they were concerned, he was a predator himself, was one that nauseated him. Was his pride worth the possible damage his mere presence at One Hogan Place would cause?

Roxie came through the door with a yawn, going right to the couch and leaning forward to kiss her husband softly. “I’m sorry, shooting ran late, I tried to rush as much as possible,” she assured. She put a hand on Liam’s head, thumb stroking over his hair. “I can take him,” she offered. She’d been a little more involved with the baby lately after talking to the midwife.

“Hang on, he’s almost done,” Rafael mumbled. “How was your day?”

“Busy, I missed you both. Especially today for some reason. I’m thinking actually about hiring someone else to handle everything for the new bakery. I don’t want to supervise, I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want to manage it.” She sat down beside him and smiled softly. “I’m away from the house enough as it is. I don’t need to be any more than absolutely necessary.”

Rafael smirked at her just as Liam finished his meal and the older man set the empty bottle on the coffee table beside the manilla folder before he handed the baby to his wife.

Her eyes moved to the folder and then to the baby. “Documents for work? Don’t you still have paternity leave, love?” She put a burping cloth on her shoulder and leaned him against it, patting his back. She was getting pretty good at it.

“I do,” he replied, sighing deeply as he gestured to the folder with his chin. “No, that is my letter of resignation.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Rafael…” she said softly. “You love your job.”

“I do,” he replied with a nod. “Which is why I’m wondering if me staying would do more harm than good.”

Once Liam burped, she adjusted so she could use her free hand to hold his. “I trust you on this if this is what you really want...but it was just a tabloid. She was a proven liar, a horrible person. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know that, but not everyone else does and I’m just wondering if bowing out now would be better than staying and having it get worse,” he said. “If I resign, I could stay home with Liam while you work, we wouldn’t have to worry about childcare.”

“I can push things around, work from home on things. I don’t want you making the choice out of necessity to Liam either. I can stay with him mornings and you can do evenings if need be.”

“It’s not out of necessity, I want to be home with him, even if I were going back to work, I’d want to be here with him,” he answered. “As much as I love my job, I love him so much more.”

“I just want to make sure if you’re making this choice it’s for you. You’re an incredible prosecutor, Rafael. You love your work, it’s one of the reasons I fell so madly in love with you,” she smiled and cupped his cheek. “So if this is what you truly think is the right move, then I support you one hundred percent. The hell with anyone who thinks otherwise.”

“I do,” he replied, nodding his head. “Victims getting their justice is far more important than me keeping my job. They shouldn’t have to suffer because of some story that’s going around. It’s better for everyone, including Liam if I just resign.” His eyes fell to the infant in her arms and he smirked. “Besides, just look at him. He’s worth it.”

She nodded, leaning forward and kissing him, slow and sweet. “I love you,” she whispered. “No matter what we face, whatever happens, I love you.” She looked down at the baby and smiled. “And I love you too,” she whispered.

“We love you too,” Rafael replied.

She looked at him. “So what now?” she asked softly.

“Now, we give our son a bath, put him to bed and enjoy our night,” he replied. “Tomorrow I’ll go with Liam to the DA’s office and drop that off with McCoy.”

She gave a slow nod, scooting closer to him and pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “Let’s get on with the bath then,” she said, offering him a smile. She looked down at the baby and sighed. “The midwife suggested antidepressants, I’m not sure. I don’t like the idea of putting things in my system while I’m feeding Liam but…” her lips pursed.

“Did she say whether there’s there another alternative?” he asked.

“Talk therapy...groups,” she said, still frowning down at the baby. “I don’t know, it makes me uneasy. The midwife said this happens to a lot of people...so why do I feel like it makes me a bad mum?”

“It doesn’t, Roxie,” Rafael replied, smiling softly at her. “I promise you, it doesn’t. It happens...and I think if you’re uneasy about taking medication, maybe you should at least consider talk therapy. Maybe not with a group, but one on one.”

“And tell them what? I’m sad? I don’t have any...connection with the baby I spent hours pushing out of me?”

“Yes,” he answered. “All of that, yes.”

She flushed. “I’m honestly embarrassed to say it to someone other than you. I feel horrible saying it.”

“I know, and if I could, I’d be your therapist but I’m not qualified to help you through this and besides we’re married, so I already have a soft spot that prevents me from being objective,” he replied. “You’re not the first woman to go through this, I’m sure whoever you talk to will have dealt with PPD plenty of times. What we can’t do is ignore it or it could get worse.”

She nodded. “I know we can’t ignore it. Liam needs both parents, not just you and right now...he barely has a fraction of me. I don’t want that for him.”

“Neither do I,” he replied, brushing a hand over her hair. “Look, whatever you decide, I trust you. We’ll get through it.”

She smiled at him, leaning over to press her lips against his. “I guess I’ll give the talk therapy a try, I’m going to have to make a lot of schedule changes.”

“It’s an hour a week, I’m sure they’ll work with your schedule,” he said. “You’re doing the best you can, and you’re a great mom. Only a good mom would be this worried about something like this.”

She smiled softly at him. “I love you so much, Rafael. I know I’m not always...chatty about things but I always know you’re here and that means everything to me.”

“I love you too,” he replied. “And I hope that one day you’ll find it easier to open up to me more. I want to be part of your entire life. Not just the good times, all of it. Your hopes, your dreams, your fears...it's why I married you because I want it all.”

“I know it doesn’t always feel like it, but I open up to you a little more everyday. I’ve been guarded for so long,” she said with a soft laugh. “I feel like sometimes I don’t even know how to drop my walls.”

He pursed his lips and lowered his eyes; she rarely opened up to him about the things she went through. He was surprised that she was able to tell him about what she was feeling with regard to Liam so easily. He had been used to her simply insisting that she was fine.

“I know you’re trying,” he decided to say, looking back up at her. Regardless of how far from his own wife that he felt, he wanted to be there for her whenever she did decide to let him in.

She nodded and offered him a small smile. She looked worn down, exhausted. She wouldn’t be able to keep up burning the candle at both ends much longer.

“I told Jacob this morning I’m not doing their books anymore, I’m too tired,” she said with a soft laugh.

Rafael nodded. “That’s a start. I’m sure he can handle it...it is technically part of his job as your business manager.”

She nodded. “He does it fine...I just think I do it better,” she mumbled.

Rafael snorted. “You know, I bet you wouldn’t feel nearly as tired if you’d stop micromanaging everything.”

“Yes, but I got where I am by micromanaging,” she argued half heartedly. “And I like to be in control…at all times.”

“Yeah, I know. You forget I’m married to you,” he replied with a smirk. “But you’re gonna run yourself ragged trying to do everything. Part of being a business owner is trusting your people to do their jobs without you having to worry that things are getting done. You have qualified people, just trust that you made the right decision in hiring them and let them do their jobs.”

She pouted, knowing he was right as she sighed, looking down at the baby. “Tell him Liam,” she said softly before imitating her best baby voice. “Daddy, mummy is doing her best, she just gets crazy with fear over incompetence, which runs rampant in this country.” She nodded in agreement. “Thank you Liam.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Liam, explain to your mother that there is such a thing as resumes with something called references that potential employers often check and verify before hiring someone. Part of being the boss is that you can hire people based on your standards, no one else’s. And you know, you don’t necessarily have to limit yourself to the United States, you could hire someone from someplace else. People move for job opportunities all the time. Stop making it more difficult than it needs to be, it’s just an excuse for you to do it yourself.”

She frowned down at Liam. “Now you’re arguing like a lawyer, you really are your father’s child.” She looked back to Rafael and sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’ll thank us for it, won’t she, Liam?” Rafael said as he gently scrubbed the baby’s skin with a washcloth.

“He says yes daddy, mummy is just being a workaholic, isn't she,” she said with a laugh, smiling at Rafael.

He smirked back at her and kissed the side of her head. “Let’s go on a date tomorrow night.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really? We can? I would love that. Just us. I could use a night off from work anyway.” She was beaming at the idea of having a quiet night with him. They hadn’t done it in so long.

“Yes. Nothing big, we can just go out to dinner, just us. I’m sure your mom wouldn't mind staying with Liam,” he said as his hand went to the small of her back. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she whispered and leaned over, kissing him softly, smiling against his lips. “So much.”

Humming around a smile, he kissed her again, deepening it immediately and pulling her against his frame. A tiny cry from Liam made him groaned softly as he pulled away from his wife and smiled at the baby.

“I’m sorry, mijo. You ready to get out and get dressed?” he asked, pulling the baby out of the bath and wrapping him in a towel.

Roxie ran her finger along the baby’s soft cheek and smiled a little. “He’s cute,” she said with a smile. “Looks like you.”

“I think he looks just like you. He has your eyes,” Rafael replied, kissing the baby’s head and taking him into his room to dress him.

Roxie watched Rafael dress him. “You know, I really like watching you as a father. It seems like it comes so naturally to you. I envy that.”

“It’ll start to be second nature to you, too, honey. Just be patient with yourself,” he replied, picking up his son and nuzzling the hair on the top of his head. “What do you think about getting him to sleep and maybe having a little mommy-daddy time.”

She giggled at the way he phrased it. “Mummy and daddy time, hm? Sounds exciting, I wouldn’t mind a little quality time with my husband.”

“That’s good cause it’s been a while and your husband could really use some attention,” he replied, smirking at her and handing over Liam. “But first he needs a shower because he stinks.”

She laughed and took Liam. “Shower away, I’m going to get Liam to bed. Say goodnight to daddy, Liam.”

“Good night, Liam. I love you,” Rafael whispered, kissing his son’s head and walking out of the nursery.

Liam’s droopy eyes stared up at his mother.

Roxie gently rocked the baby in her arms. “Sleep please,” she said softly. “You’re a decent sleeper sometimes but you know exactly when I want downtime and you seem to be able to smell weakness, so now I’m reasoning with you. Sleep please.”

Liam continued to look up at her as if waiting for something in particular, cooing softly.

“Well I can’t sing, but I can kiss you,” she said and leaned to kiss his face. “And I can hum.” She hummed, sure it was the theme song to an old tv show but it was still a melody and definitely off key but she did her best.

Slowly, Liam’s eyes began to slip closed until he was fast asleep.

She smiled, settling him down in the crib and lightly stroking her finger over his cheek. He was so soft, so delicate, it still scared her how fragile this little creature was. This little person they had created who could be gone in an instant. She shook the thought from her head, moving towards the warm steam coming from the bathroom.

Closing the door behind him, Nevada haphazardly peeled off his jacket and tossed it on the couch as he walked into the kitchen and took a glass out of the cupboard beside the fridge. He reached for the bottle of scotch on the top shelf and poured himself three fingers, gulping some of the amber liquid down. As much as he wanted to get drunk to get away from his troubles, he would have to limit his intake to one glass in order to keep his wits. Chibby had been hard at work tracking Natalia’s phone while Sawyer busied herself with getting information on Omar’s arrest.

As he drank more from his glass he could hear the kids upstairs running from room to room and scowled. He hated having to pretend everything was fine in his own home, even for their sake.

“Hey! Didn’t I just say bedtime?” you scolded them with a laugh as you watched the twins giggle and run towards their bedroom.

You looked down the staircase at your husband and smiled.

“You’re home! Hey!” You moved down the staircase and over to him, eyes immediately going to the glass in his hand. “Omar’s still in custody?” you guessed.

He nodded. “Yeah, he hasn’t had a bail hearing yet, so we can't get him out.”

You frowned, hand moving to the back of his neck to gently try and work out some of the tension. “Wanna talk about it? Once I get the kids to bed?” you offered. “Or not, whatever you need.”

“Not really,” he answered, going to sit at the kitchen table. “They have a good time with Chelsea yesterday?”

“Yeah, they were so excited. Chelsea took them to the aquarium, they are definitely your kids.” You smiled softly, looking towards the staircase. “Huh...maybe they went to bed on their own.”

“You can go check, I’m fine,” he replied, taking another gulp from his drink.

You nodded, moving upstairs and moving to the twins room first.

“Mami, I want chocolate milk,” NJ said as he jumped on his bed.

“It’s late my love, you can have chocolate milk in the morning,” you said and picked him up in your arms, sitting down on the bed and looking at Fiona who was already settled in, playing with her toys quietly.

“I want chocolate milk!” he shouted, accentuating the last word with a swift smack to your face.

You grabbed his hand, eyes narrowed. “Oye! Tu quieres pow pow? Now you don’t get shit. Hit me again and I’m gonna start throwing out toys, I mean it.” You settle him down and frowned. “Who taught you to hit? We never hit people. Unless we are protecting ourselves.”

NJ growled, swinging his leg out, though it was far from making contact with you. “I. Want. Chocolate. Milk.”

You made no hesitation before spanking him. You knew so many parents were against spanking kids but honestly, when he acted this way, he was lucky you didn’t throw him into a river.

“OW!” he hollered, his little face growing red as thick tears slipped down his cheeks. “HEY! DON’T! HIT! ME!”

“Not very fun now, is it?” you said with a frown, turning him back to you. “You want it again?”

He shook his head, still crying and sniffling.

“Then don’t hit or kick me. Entiendes? I’m not a punching bag, I’m your mom.”

“Don’t! Hit me! You just hit my butt!” he sobbed.

“Spanking is different than hitting. And you need to start learning some respect,” you scolded. “I’m what feeds you, kid.”

“No! You don’t! Hit people!” he cried between gasps of breath. “STOP IT!”

You groaned. “This kid,” you mumbled. “You’re bad, you get spanked, end of story!”

“NO!!” NJ screamed.

“Oye, pero what the fuck is going on here?” Nevada asked as he came into the bedroom.

“Ay Carajo, get in bed, no chocolate milk,” you snapped at your son, quickly losing patience.

“Papi, I want chocolate milk,” NJ sobbed, rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry, mijo, mom said no,” Nevada answered with a bob of his shoulders.

“I want chocolate milk!” NJ growled, throwing a stuffed animal across the room and continuing to cry.

You crossed your arms, done talking with him and determined to just let him tantrum himself out.

“I said go to bed. Your sister is listening.” You heavily considered giving your daughter chocolate milk right now to spite your son, but it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how to process things yet.

“NO! I DON’T WANNA GO TO BED! SISTER IS NOT LISTENING!” NJ screamed, his little face growing red with effort.

You rubbed your temples. You were gonna murder this kid at this rate. “That’s it, I’m starting to throw away toys,” you snapped, moving to the toy chest and picking up a few of his favorites. “Now this is a hostage situation. You happy? First Spider-Man is going, you wanna lose more? Keep this shit up and you’ll be playing with a cardboard box for the next year.”

Fiona looked up from her bed. “Mama’s mad.”

“NOOOOOOO!!!!!” NJ screeched, running and yanking the Spiderman out of your hands to throw it back into his toy bin. “THAT’S MY SPIDERMAN!!”

“Como?!” You picked it up again and walked out of the room past your husband with it.

Thanks for the backup. You mentally scolded your husband, too irritated by your son to even care at this point.

“HEY!!!” NJ yelled.

You huffed before stomping down the stairs. “Spider-Man is going in the fucking garbage disposal at this rate,” you grumbled to yourself. You had it with your son’s bratty behavior.

“Mommy!!!” NJ sobbed  throwing himself on the floor and kicking the frame of his bed repeatedly and screaming at the top of his lungs. “GIMME MY SPIDERMAN!!!”

Nevada just simply watched him, arms crossed as NJ wailed and stomped against the bed frame. After a few minutes of this, NJ finally started to calm down, though he was still crying. The boy rubbed his eyes before he looked up at his father with tears still rolling down his cheeks.

“Are you done?” Nevada asked calmly.

“Yeah,” NJ whimpered, wiping one side of his face, cries lowering to soft whines and sniffles. “I wanna go to bed,” NJ cried.

“I know, papo,” Nevada replied, holding his arms out as he stepped towards his son.

NJ slowly stood and let Nevada pick him up and laid his little head against his father’s shoulder. “Mommy spank my butt.”

“I know, because you weren’t listening,” Nevada said softly, sitting on the bed and hugging his son. “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” NJ whimpered. “I want chocolate milk.”

“It’s too late for chocolate milk, papo.”

“I want--I want water,” NJ said.

“I’ll ask mom. Get in bed, okay?” Nevada replied.

“Okay.”

When Nevada got downstairs you were sitting at the table. “He’s about to start getting Spider-Man’s body parts back individually in boxes,” you said sighing.

“He doesn’t understand it when you take away toys, to him, you’re just stealing his shit for no reason,” Nevada replied. “When he gets like that, it’s better to just let him freak out until he gets out of his system.”

You nodded. “Thank you,” you said softly. “Thank you for handling it. I have just about had it with NJ today.”

“Mhm,” Nevada replied, downing the last of his scotch and putting the empty glass in the sink. “He wants water. I told him I’d ask you.”

You nodded, going to bring NJ a sippy cup of water before coming back down, pouring yourself a generous drink and sitting down with your husband.

“He has been driving me crazy lately, this whole toddler inability to express himself thing is driving me nuts. He used to be the good kid. Now Fiona is an angel usually and he’s a tiny emotional terrorist.”

Nevada bobbed his shoulders as he sat down and put his feet up on the table and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “They’ll probably switch back and forth with that a few times in their life. We just gotta deal with it how it comes, I guess.”

You nodded and sipped your drink. “They loved going out with Chelsea. She said to send her love, she wants to meet up soon for a coffee if you ever get the time.”

“I’ll give her a call after all this shit blows over,” he replied with a sigh.

You nodded and gestured to the remainder of your scotch. “Want it? I’m over it already,” you said with a chuckle.

“No, I’m good,” he replied in a sigh as he stood. “I’m probably gonna be up all night till I hear from Chibby or Sawyer, so I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You nodded and leaned over kissing his lips softly. “Well I’ll be awake a little longer, if you want a distraction or something,” you offered before moving upstairs to bed.

[lobsters-on-their-heads]

OB Rewatch: The Weight of This Combination

I am disappointed that this outfit never made another appearance in the show. Either of them, really, because Kira’s little butterfly outfit is adorable.

I loved:

“Wouldn’t It Be Nice” in Ukranian (I assume)

Tatiana voiced the goddamn scorpion, too.

“Have you even talked to your girlfriend yet?” Sarah looks out for Cosima first and foremost.

This look on Delphine, and her many facial expressions. I love Delphine this entire season, as a character, because she is so complicated and conflicted, and most of that can’t come through in her lines. It’s the best work the show’s given Evelyne Brochu, and she knocks it out of the damn park. 

Sarah’s make over into Rachel sequence. The music, the camera work, Felix’s body language and facial expressions, Tat’s acting, Delphine’s on-the-edges observation / supervision, Grimes playing in the background... all perfect.

The triple clone swap organized by Delphine, before she even was sure that Ferdinand would ask to speak with Sarah Manning. The ways Tatiana plays her characters SO SO well that they can play each other and we still know who’s who. During the entire encounter, beautiful work is done by everyone in the scene. The layers upon layers of complexity are brilliant.

This is a really good look on Sarah, too:

I liked:

That pause after Sarah asks Delphine if she’s talked to Cosima yet, and the change of subject. It can’t show on a screenshot, but Delphine’s face twitches oh so slightly before speaking again.

Sarah says, “I don’t wanna see this shit.” Delphine replies, “It gets worse,” and plays more of the tape.

And Cosima’s little “Is she talking to Delphine, is she with Delphine?” Oooh, sweetie! God, things are going to get so much worse before they get better.

Sarah calls Mrs. S “Mum.” 

This great picture of Sarah in the bottom left.

The break-up scene needs it’s own space, and I both love it and hate it, so it’s going here. 

Oh God, I hate that our girls broke up because I love them and need them to be happy, and the break up destroyed both of them, but the framing and the pacing and the acting were wonderful. Their history comes out immediately, in that Cosima is distrustful of Delphine from the moment Delphine is less than gushingly happy to see her, and when Delphine slips into “doctor” mode, it only solidifies the distrust. These girls got ISSUES.

Delphine calls for Cosima when she knocks, but thirty seconds later she asks to see Sarah. I mean, Delphine, if you’re going for the “push Cosima away approach,” that would work. 

It’s been discussed and GIFed and reblogged until the end of time, but it’s worth restating that Delphine was more hurt breaking up with Cosima than getting shot in the stomach. 

Donnie is adorably excited about Alison running for school trustee. He likes having a powerful wife.

“Holy doodle, here we go.”

“Remember our safe word?” “No!”

“Shut up and stop squirming!”

I didn’t like:

I can’t watch eyeball horror. Thankfully, I know just when to turn away during the rewatch.

Ferdinand’s monologuing about Helsinki and killing all the sestras strayed too far into infodump/ “as you know, Bob” territory. It was effective, but a little sloppy.

The treatment of Helena in Season 3 often seems like pain for the sake of pain. You don’t need to abuse Helena to get an emotional reaction from the audience or to advance the plot. These “Helena Must Suffer” plots gotta go, man.

I would have liked to have seen:

Behind the scenes Delphine. Not interacting with anyone, just alone, with her own thoughts and her own knowledge. Maybe finding something of Cosima’s in her apartment, maybe looking at herself in the mirror...

Some comment, maybe from Felix, about how Delphine already knows what Sarah looks like naked, before they shooed her out so Sarah could change. 

The entire conversation between Delphine and Alison, convincing her to come in and play Sarah in this precious scenario.

I’ve got questions:

How does Helena know what Alison’s backyard looks like?

Why did they put Helena in that box? More generally, why are they treating her like an enemy combatant?

How long has it been since the end of Season 2? At least 2 days, at a minimum, to give Delphine time to get to Frankfurt, get her hair and her attitude straightened out by Top Side, and come back. 

How does Rudy know so much about Sarah and her sisters?

How much mental fortitude did it take for Delphine to break off her relationship with Cosima? Who’s idea was it? Nealon mentions “not playing favorites,” but I get the impression Delphine knew before the episode started that she’d have to do this. 

What’s Marion’s role with Top Side, again? Ferdinand was sent by Top Side, and speaks of Marion in such as way that makes it clear she’s not in charge. Hell, what’s Delphine’s role with Top Side?

How did Delphine get Alison’s clone phone number? I think it’s safe to assume that Sarah gave Delphine her own number, but Alison’s? Half a season ago, Delphine wasn’t (apparently) aware of the clone phones. 

Did Sarah know how much Ferdinand would like getting his junk stepped on, or did she just really want to?

Are/ Were there also ~274 Castor clones?

Other notes:

Ari Millen’s performance as Rudy seems different here than in future episodes. He seems much crazier than in later episodes.

On my list of fanfiction I’ll write one of these days is a divergence fic in which Delphine:

(A) decides not to break up with Cosima outside Felix’s loft.

(B) still breaks up with her, but says “I love you, too” after Cosima tells her she loves her. 

Hello, product placement! Of course, Alison is totally the Apple type. I say, as I type this on a MacBook Air. 

During Ferdinand’s SUPER creepy interrogation of Alison-as-Sarah, he asks Sarah-as-Rachel about clone relationships in 50 years. Sarah replies, “I would hope we’d just be another person in the check-out line.” Little does she know that that’s exactly what Rachel Duncan actually wants. 

It’s a bad idea to piss off Delphine, but it’s a REALLY bad idea to piss her off by hurting Cosima.

[beatricethecat2]

out of place/out of mind - 4

(Read first) one step forward, two steps back (v.2.0):part 1+ part 2, (Previously) out of place, out of mind: part 1, part 2, part 3

I posted chapter 3 at a weird time so maybe later will reach more people (though who knows on a Monday.) To repeat, it's an Instinct replacement and forward fix it fic, in six chapters. I'll fix typos later and thanks for reading!

///////////////

After a long, nondescript highway drive, Myka and Helena travel deep into the forest, side roads giving way to back then on to dirt. Dappled light flits across the dash and Helena leans closer to the window, her eyes coming alive in a way Myka hasn’t seen for an eternity. It was a toss-up whether Helena would freak out or feel at home in the woods, but now Myka’s certain this was a good idea after all.

She thought the drive might loosen Helena's tongue and she'd learn more about the cabin “the cowboy” built for his wife and child. But when pushed for details, as per usual, Helena changed the subject. Helena avoids talking about her life there in general, and it drives Myka crazy. She's puzzled “the cowboy’s" backstory out on her own, but Helena’s insisted both worlds be kept separate, so Helena’s experiences of it remain a mystery.

When they arrive at their rented cabin, Helena searches every room, as if looking for something, or someone, hidden inside. She's put off by its layout—it’s more modern than she’d like—but after close inspection, she seems pleased to be there.

It’s an unseasonably warm night, and Helena insists on sleeping under the stars, but Myka, at first, declines to join her. Craving a warm, soft bed, she settles into the loft bedroom, but eventually gives in, feeling silly in the house all alone. She drags out an extra blanket and snuggles up to Helena for warmth, then nods off with her head on Helena’s shoulder.

She's alone when she wakes the next morning, rested but worse for wear, so she wraps the blanket around herself and joins Helena in the kitchen. "The cowboy" must feel at home here, as Helena’s more animated than she’s been in weeks, and if “the cowboy's” happy, Helena’s mood might improve.

After their meal, they finish unpacking, then, post lunch, take a stroll in the woods. Myka naps upstairs while Helena cooks a modest dinner, and as evening wanes, they read together on the couch. Helena made cozy fire as it’s cooler than yesterday, and as they inch together, Myka guides Helena’s head onto her lap. She strokes her fingers through Helena's silky hair and smiles as Helena relaxes into her. Not wanting to wake her, Myka continues reading for a spell, but eventually guides Helena upstairs to bed.

The next morning, Helena’s gone again, so she rises and shuffles sleepily downstairs. Coffee is brewing, but Helena’s out in the yard, her back turned, huddled over the picnic table. Myka slips on her boots and a jacket, then heads out to see what she's doing.

“You’re up early,” she says, but the closer she gets, the more concerned she grows. Is that a pile of feathers on the ground? A quiver of arrows leaning against the table?

“Good morning,” Helena says, with a sunny lilt in her tone.

Myka jumps back as Helena turns to greet her as her hands, and the knife she’s holding, are both covered in blood.

“I’ve acquired dinner, but it's currently not for the faint of heart.” She smiles at Myka and steps to the side to reveal the table.

“Y-you killed that, with that?” Myka points at the arrows.

Helena nods, sagely. “And 'that,' I believe, is a turkey.”

“I thought those arrows were a decoration."

“They were most efficient.”

“You need a license to kill things. And it has to be in season.”

“On our own lands?”

“On any lands. This isn't the Wild West. There are rules.”

“Too late for this fowl,” Helena says, turning back to the table, continuing her task.

“I didn’t know you liked to hunt,” Myka says, seizing the moment. If she keeps Helena talking, maybe she'll open up.

“As the hunter, yes. The game, no.”

“What do you mean?”

The knife thwacks down on the turkey’s neck, and it falls to the ground with a thunk. “You've read my report.”

“I did. I was worried about you and you wouldn’t—“

“Talk with you. Only Abigail.”

“Yeah. I still don’t understand why.”

“You’ve read what happened.”

“It barely scratched the surface.”

"What would you have me say?” Helena turns to face Myka, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Anything. Anything at all,” Myka says, throwing her hands in the air. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what happened, and right now I'm totally in the dark.” Abigail, too, wouldn’t reveal much, citing doctor-patient confidentiality. She said Helena would open up when she was ready, but Myka’s patience is wearing thin.

“Shall I describe, in graphic detail, how I narrowly escaped execution after being thrown in jail? Recount tales of being hunted like a wild animal, bruised, bloodied, delirious for months on end? Or relive the battle between townsfolk and local tribe where my freedom was gained by brutally murdering my enemy?”

Myka flinches as the knife's point is thrust into the table, Helena's fingers remaining wrapped around its hilt.

“I’m sorry. I’m really, truly sorry. But I need you talk, so I can understand what you’re going through.” All of that was in Helena's report, and Myka's genuinely horrified, but to bring the real Helena back, she needs to understand what she's dealing with emotionally.

“My trauma should never be your burden to bear.”

“Is there another reason you won’t talk to me?”

“Such as what?"

“Did you kill Jamison because Mary asked you to?”

Helena’s glare turns into confusion at the question. “It was the climax of the film, was it not? By then, my actions were no longer my own. Jamison was truly evil, and the child’s safety was at risk. Had that ridiculous flash-forward not been tagged on, I'd have been back years earlier, and I wouldn’t be standing here the mess that  I am.”

“Yeah, but, did you love her?”

“The child? Of course.”

“I meant Mary.”

It's a selfish thing to ask, and the flash of hurt in Helena’s eyes confirms it; Myka wishes it never came out of her mouth. But it’s been niggling at her since Helena’s return, and she needs to know for certain if Helena's reluctance to talk is because of a lingering loyalty to Mary.

“I felt as scripted, with little agency. By the time Claudia arrived, I was fully immersed. I did care for Mary, admired her spirit, but even lost in "the cowboy’s" psyche, I understood my heart belonged to another.”

Helena smiles weakly at Myka, and Myka smiles back, tears welling up behind her eyes. She reaches out to hug Helena and Helena lifts her arms, but her hand’s bloodied state gives her pause. Helena looks down at the ground, then turns back to the turkey, shoulders dropping, head hanging low.

“Deep down you knew we were trying to get you back.”

"You’re what kept me alive in the beginning, through my worst moments. When I was freezing to death, I’d imagine you there to warm me, bringing me tea, like you did before I betrayed you.”

Helena folds further in on herself and Myka places a hand on her back.

“That was a long time ago. We’ve moved past that."

Helena breathes in deeply and slowly releases the breath then glances back at Myka. “There were days I’d lose myself in you, gazing into your eyes, kissing you for hours, sharing your bed as we did after Sykes. But then modernity began slipping away, and I was arguing with Charles or traveling with Christina. All my memories became circumspect, and you became a figment of my imagination. I rationalized my situation by believing I ran away to America to escape the trauma of Christina’s death. The thought of better world existing in the future seemed too farfetched, clearly something I'd dreamt up for a novel.”

“Oh, Helena,” Myka says, stepping behind her, skimming her hands down the sides of her arms.

Helena looks down at her hands, at the blood on them. “There were others, beyond Jamison.”

“You did what you needed to survive.”

“Perhaps,” Helena says, sounding as if that bitter Helena, the one straight from the bronze, has reappeared. “Isn’t the saying, dog eat dog world? Survival of the fittest? In hindsight, that’s not justification enough.” Her knees wobble, almost buckling.

Myka grips Helena’s upper arms to prop her up. “Why don’t you finish here and call Abigail?” she says, seeing she's pushed Helena too far. If Helena refuses, she'll call herself, as it’s time to ask for help.  

Helena steadies herself and nods in agreement then looks over her shoulder Myka. Myka smiles her most comforting smile and threads a lock of hair behind Helena's ear. As she meets Helena's wild, sad eyes, she says, “I’m real, ok.” She then cradles Helena's chin and kisses her temple. “Never forget, your home is here with me."

----------

As Helena pulls into the driveway, Myka moves to the window and watches her walk directly around back. Helena left hours ago to find cell service, and she's not the best driver, so she was beginning to worry she'd gotten lost. Myka offered to chauffer, but Helena insisted she go alone and wore Myka down until she gave in.

Helena enters the shed and emerges with a hatchet, then walks toward a pile of wood. She selects a specific log, then balances it on a stump and swings the hatchet to split it in two. She repeats the motion several times over, splitting each section into even smaller ones. She then starts whole the process over again, as if on an assembly line, and Myka stares, mesmerized by Helena's lifting, chopping, and throwing.

She wonders why Helena didn't stop in and say hello first, but maybe time is of the essence. She wanted to roast the turkey over an open flame, and for it to be ready for dinner, she probably needed to start it right away.

After ten or so logs, Helena seems to be winding down, so Myka nips out to ask if she needs help. She crosses the lawn and approaches Helena from behind, admiring her fit physique as she walks.  

“I thought you might need help with—“

The second she touches Helena’s shoulder, Helena spins around, smacking her in breastbone and pushing her to the ground. Helena then pins her down, forearm to chest, legs straddling hips, teeth bared, hatchet blade hovering just above her neck. With the wind knocked out of her, Myka coughs and gasps for breath, the cold metal stuttering against her skin.

“H-Helena, s-stop,” Myka wheezes, her body limp, save for her cough. Her heart beats out of her chest at the crazed look in Helena’s eyes, one she recognizes all too well. “It’s Myka.”

A hint of recognition flashes across Helena’s face, and she bears down less on Myka’s chest. She scrambles to her feet and hurls the hatchet to the side, stumbling back, tripping over herself as she turns and runs away.

“Come back!” Myka croaks, falling forward as she rises, hand flying up to her chest as she coughs. “Damnit,” she mutters, and as Helena disappears into the woods, she falls to the side then lays flat.

--------

Myka camps out on the porch, huddled under a blanket, tipping her rocking chair back and forth to stay calm. She stares into the darkness, knowing Helena will come back, though the hatchet may add time to her disappearance.

After this afternoon's incident, she Farnsworthed the Warehouse, driving out of the valley to combat fuzzy reception. Months ago, Claudia put a tracking device in Helena's locket, and Abigail located her only a mile away. Myka asked her to email the location, but Abigail warned against retrieving her too soon. She said Helena needed distance to work through her jumbled mind and maybe Myka deserved a break, too.

When asked what prompted Helena's flight, Myka burst into tears, her suppressed fear from that moment releasing itself. She insisted it was her fault, that she pushed Helena too far, triggering harmful memories for them both.

Abigail urged Myka to leave if she didn’t feel safe and said they'd send backup for when Helena returned. Myka said no, she was ok, and ambushing Helena would only drive her further away. She assured Abigail when Helena returned she knew what to say to make things right. She even admitted it was time to face up to hard facts and but wanted one more chance to reach Helena on her own.

When the temperature drops, she heads into the cabin, leaving the porch light on just in case Helena returns. She hunkers down in bed and hugs a pillow to her chest, wrapping her mind around the fact Helena may never be her Helena again.

-----------

A warm light flickers over her eyes as the scent of coffee fills her nose; the sun is up, and Helena must be back. She dons her robe and her slippers and peeks out the bedroom window, seeing Helena cutting up vegetables below. Helena looks up, meeting Myka’s gaze but, without smiling, turns back to her task. She cleans off the knife and slides it into its wooden holder, then glances at Myka before moving to the stove.

Myka descends the stairs and enters the kitchen, grabbing a clean coffee cup from the dish rack. She fills her mug as if it were a normal morning and adds a dab of milk from a carton. She takes a small sip and leans a hip on the counter, all the while, eyes on Helena.

“You're back,” Myka says.

“Momentarily,” Helena replies, dropping peppers into the already sizzling onions.

“What does that mean?” Myka says, hands tightening around her mug.

"I’m going,” Helena says, glancing at Myka, then back at the pan.

“Going where?”

“Away.” Helena adds a bowl of chopped tomatoes and moves the mixture around with a wooden spoon.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Myka says, stepping closer to Helena and setting her mug down on the counter. She reaches out to touch Helena’s shoulder, but Helena shrugs away.

“I nearly killed you yesterday. Again.” Helena's hand tightens around the spoon, her movements slowing to a stop.

“You wouldn’t.” Myka reaches in front of Helena and carefully turns off the burner.

“You can’t know that for certain.”

“I just do.”

“If I can’t predict my actions, how could you?” Helena’s hand trembles as she places the spoon on the counter, so much so it clambers to the floor.

“I got you through the bad times, remember? Thoughts of me kept you safe. I’m what's real, and your subconscious knows it."

“That’s not enough to keep the demons at bay.”

“Then you wouldn’t because you love me. You said so after Sykes. That your capable of love at all, after Christina, scares you enough to stop.”

Helena grips the edge of the stove and leans forward, closing her eyes, dipping her head down.

“Every time we go on a mission, we risk our lives. How many times have I nearly died? Have you actually died? I think I know by now the difference between almost and inevitable.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Myka steps even closer, sliding a hand across Helena's jaw and turning her head, so their eyes meet.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Helena says.

“But I do.” Myka strokes her thumb over Helena’s cheek, but when the fear in Helena's eyes doesn’t lessen, she draws back her hand. “OK,” she says, nodding. “Have time to yourself. But you have to let Abigail help you. And I have to know where you are.”

“That defeats the purpose.”

“You can’t disappear. You owe me that much. No matter what is or is not happening between us, you’re my friend, and I care about you. You need me, and I need you.”

“Surely you have others to turn to?”

“No one gets me—gets to me—like you do. Unless everything between us was an act.”

“Certainly not.”

“I never once gave up hope over those three long years. And look at you, here, now, alive. My wish came true. What more could I ask for?” Myka’s chin begins to tremble.

“More than you’ve been given. More than, ‘I didn't die today.'” Helena brushes a tear from Myka’s cheek and lays a hand on her upper arm. Myka lunges forward, wrapping her arms around Helena, burying her face in Helena’s shoulder.

Helena hugs her close, stroking a hand through her hair. As Myka settles down, she steps back.

“Sorry,” Myka says, wiping her eyes and nose with her sleeve. “You didn't need to see that.” She looks towards the door. “I’ll go. You stay. Just drive me into town.” She walks towards the stairs with purpose.

Helena scrambles behind and grabs her arm. “No. Not like this.”

“Do you love me?” Myka stops but doesn’t turn around.

“I do,” Helena says, without skipping a beat.

“Then let me help you. Let me in.”

Helena drops her hand. “You shouldn’t have to navigate my instabilities.”

“I can handle it, ok?" Myka says, turning around and taking hold of Helena's hands. “You don’t have to shelter me. I know it’s hard to tell, but I’m not all rainbows and sunshine either.”

A weak smile flits across Helena's lips before she looks down at their entwined hands.

Myka brushes her fingers over Helena's cheek then combs slowly through Helena’s hair until her fingers cup the base of Helena's skull. “I know you’re in there, Helena. I need you to come out.”

Helena’s breath hitches as Myka places a light kiss on her cheek then trails her lips across to her ear. She nuzzles her nose into the valley under Helena’s earlobe, and presses kisses down the length of her neck. She always second-guessed herself when they’ve gotten this far before and stopped before moving forward. But this time, Helena's veins tense under her skin, and her quickening pulse gives her the green light.

A guttural growl escapes Helena's throat as Myka teases a familiar sweet spot, and she leans into Myka's touch. Helena tastes like salt and earth, her hair smelling of smoke and leaves, and the earthiness heightens Myka’s resolve to continue.

Helena's hands lift to cradle Myka's jaw, and she kisses her deeply, a latent want taking over as if awakened from a dream. Myka reciprocates, hungrily, her hands moving everywhere at once, then settling the small of Helena's back. Remaining entwined, she guides Helena backward to the couch, and as Helena falls, she pulls Myka down on top of her.

They spend the day lost in a haze of rediscovery and desire, languidly restoring memories of each curve and valley.

-TBC-

[elephantinparis]

Still Star Crossed

Now that the show is over I wanted to rank my favourite to least favourite episode of SSC(all of them were great in their own ways)

1st place goes to episode 5: rosvolio being all tropey™ like and building their friendship with a fragile trust. Rosaline peeking at her future man like: yaas guurl inspect before purchasing lmao The repeatedly mentioned trust throughout the whole seaon is killing me & also Isabella being all bad ass and having her sexual awakening?! *Helena says heeey* SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!!!

2nd place goes to episode 7: the finale was heartbreaking and so full of angst for Ben & rosvolio fans also poor boy Escalus and precious Livia. I choose to resolve their stories with my imagination. ALSO THAT ANTICIPATED ROSVOLIO SMOOCH THAT ALMOST SENT ME INTO CARDIAC ARREST!! It was so perfect(Lashana and Wade brought it home AND THEN SOME) We truly don’t deserve them. Sure I’m not thrilled about a cliffhanger that will never get resolved, but I still thought it was well done for a finale. We could have had worse, honestly. Just ask TVD fandom and they had 8 seasons lol But SSC was quality tv so I probably shouldn’t compare. (Yep you’re not wrong I’m bitter but lets move on lol)

3rd place goes to episode 3(oh look at that haha): again rosvolio being the ship of tropes™, shakespeare’s sonnet ANYONE?? I laughed so hard when Nurse offered her comments “Not very good, is it?’’. Damn Shakespeare needs this burn treated lmao, Livia and the snake having a moment(I carried a torch for #CountLivia back then) Benny boy kicking ass and being depressed while doing it(poor Benvolio) Lord Montague and his sass making an appearance: ‘’Don’t spend it all in one place’’ *facepalm* Also shit blowing up is always welcome in my book. Isabella telling Escalus how it is and that she could’ve saved the ambasador.Boss ass bitch!!

4th place goes to the pilot episode 1: It was one of my faves, but others were just a teeny tiny better. Getting to meet everyone was awesome. Romeo & Juliet being all precious and in love and then rosvolio meeting for the first time sealed the deal for me. Too little of Mercutio but what can a girl do, right?? The Prince’s decree for Rosaline&Benvolio started it all. Also shoutout to that makeout scene between Escalus&Ros it was hot as hell(Sterling and Lashana again were on point) and Benny boy be creping like: ‘’that’s my future wife pal’’ lol

5th place goes to to episode 4: Again rosvolio working together and lowkey flirting was gold!! Rosaline’s reaction to a brothel made me laugh so much that innocent precious cinnamon roll. To think one episode later she checks out Benvolio’s goodies lmao An amazing performance by Lashana in Rosaline’s childhood home that scene deserves freaking awards people!! and then Benvolio&Rosaline balcony scene *heart eyes* Romeo and Juliet who?? jk jk love my precious still-star crossed lovers haha(Clara and Lucien left us too soon) Also my boy Escalus beats up a trash can bc he insults his sister. ‘’My sister is a princess NOT a whore’’. You tell ‘em Escalus, you tell ‘em.

6th place goes to episode 2: It was interesting to see young Escalus and why he is the way he is(daddy issues) but heavy head that wears the crown Isabella would say!! We learned Benvolio was an art hoe™ and I’m living haha Also heartbreaking ending to roscalus romance(another great kiss)but Escalus brought it on himself. Like Rosaline says in the finale: ‘’You made me a friend of my enemy’’. The rosvolio cute moment and those synchronised looks?? just put me out of my misery already. *fans myself* Lord Damiano Montague and his savage sass making an entrance: ‘’Meet me outside with your dignity...if you can find it’’. BUURN.

and last, but not least 7th place goes to episode 6: I wasn’t really into the whole cathedral plotline if we had to spend almost all of the episode with the grown-ups they should’ve come up with something better *sorry not sorry* also the heartwrenching ros&ben moment. He came back for HER and she HAD to betray his trust. and those looks thy kept serving each other?? Escalus being stupid as fuck (I was done giving him the benefit of the doubt) The writers ruined Escalus tbh in the book he’s quite different and I love him! Also no Isabella?? I’ll pretend she rode back to Venice and had a quickie with Helena in that carriage lmao

That’s my thoughts but what were your faves? share with me ;) 

@sheireen @yes-everhopeful @kalena-henden @parisblakestuff

[justastormie]

I’m doing two, because I can. 

Ancient Historical meme from my drafts;

First things first: What’s their name and when and where did they live? If there are any/ you have one, add your favourite picture of them. 

Erwin Johannes Eugene Rommel (1891-1944), Germany, lived around Württemberg for most of his life, the occasional world war aside. Of historical note for being a masterful tactician, writing an important book of military theory about wwi and commanding the german forces in the north african campaign of wwii. 

Napoleon (1769-1821), France technically but had a great deal of fun on camping trips all over Europe. Of historical note for one-uping Alexander the Great. Created landmark legal, military and social organizations. List of fuckups is longer than most people’s list of accomplishments. One of the most enduring military and political legends of the modern era. Bees.

1. How and when did you first hear about them?

Rommel- I honestly can’t remember. My father is a wwii nut so i was raised on the stuff. I got serious in my interest of him about 12/13 when I first read the collection of his papers translated into English. 

Napoleon- fourth grade (about ten years old). We had a section of world history, dismal though it was. In one of the little “fun facts” thing they had a tiny little box describing Nap’s return from Elba with an itty-bitty reproduction of Steben’s Returned From Elba. I thought that sounded like the most badass thing I had ever heard, and was also a little in disbelief because surely someone can’t just walk back and reclaim their kingdom. Like, that shit didn’t happen in real life. So I bought my first biography to find out the real story. 

2. What do you like most about them?

Rommel

he tempered his ambition and leadership with compassion and a fierce sense of honor

genuinely seems to have been a nice dude

he and his wife are cute as fuck 

was later cute as fuck about his son Manfred 

was incredibly clever

was a peach eating lunatic adventurer masquerading as a srs prussian soldier 

he was a romantic both in the age of chivalry sense and the modern sense

Napoleon

SUCH A BADASS, oh my god

was an over-invested mono-maniac at all times, which I can related to

incredibly capable in many fields

i have been napoleon and josephine trash since day one

crowning himself. i just love that moment.

was really smart. on a ‘holy shit’ level. (even if he did some massively stupid shit sometimes)

meritocratic promotion structures

hamilton WISHES he were this non-stop. 

never gave up, never gave in. even on st. helena he started dedicated his energies to preserving his legend and legacy, to great effect. 

3. Is there anything about them that makes you angry or that you don’t like at all?

Rommel 

literally worked for nazis

pretty sexist

there’s a lot i disagree with him about, but very few things that make me truly pissed off. ie he was of the period opinion that military men shouldn’t be involved in politics, as he thought that would mean the military as an organization would start defining germany’s political future which would turn into military rule and he was catagorically against that. which i think is both wrong and allowed him, and others in the german army, to disclaim responsibility for political shit they didn’t agree with that was being done by their government. but i can absolutely see where he was coming from, and i think his concerns were reasonable and legitimate. 

so yeah. a lot of disagreements, but very few things that just piss me off.

Napoleon

w h e r e   d o   I   b e g i n

allowed his obsession with legend and conquest overwhelm his moral values 

sold his honor and his moral principles in order to maintain power

frequently only took into account the human cost of warfare way too fucking late

rampant misogyny

really fucked over Junot

really fucked over tons and tons of people who were loyal to him, from close friends to the soldiers who followed him

got a truly staggering number of people killed on account of his own short-sighted obsessions

to paraphrase the old tv show Wiseguy, You don’t get to shove people around just because your fire burns brighter, no matter how brilliant that fire is. 

never gave up, never gave in. even when he fucking should have, looking at you reasonable peace terms of 1813. 

4. If you had one day with them in our present time - what would you do together?

Rommel - Aviation museum, he’d absolutely love it. I’d get him to pick some German place to eat and interrogate him ruthlessly about what inter-war rural Germany was like. 

Napoleon- Smack him repeatedly in the face for invading Spain  Walk and talk. Have him show me around Paris and have a debate over legal systems. Nerd out over Ossain. Show him a modern bookstore. Let him see how much of his work has survived into the present day. Shove him into at least one shrubbery.

5. What would you like to talk about with them?

Rommel - Engineering, aviation, dogs and funny army stories

Napoleon- All of the things. I can only imagine the conversation would be a pinball game of madness as to topics covered. And okay. I’d have to ask about Waterloo. I’d be that person. I don’t think he’d do it, but I’d love to hear him talk about Corsica. 

6. In which way do you identify most with them or a figure they created?

Rommel - He was an intensely practical man who tried very hard to do the right thing and frequently failed. I hope that one day I’ll have the strength of character to try to rectify my mistakes as he did his. 

Napoleon - I too am an over-invested, bossy weirdo. 

7. Thoughts about their death? E.g.:Was it too early, was it deserved, woud you have tried to prevent it and how? 

Rommel- oh god TOO EARLY, UNDESERVED, that poor brave bastard. I mean the fact that he was murdered because of his role in a plot to overthrow hitler and make peace with the allies is reason enough. would have definitely tried to prevent it, but would need like. the a-team to stop it. because you’d have to rescue not only rommel but his family that was being used as leverage against him. unless you’re allowed to go really far back and then i’d just start slapping the shit out of everyone at the versailles peace conference.

Napoleon - hoooo boy. uuuuuuuh. i mean. do i like it how he died? no. does that dislike come from a rational place? ...nooo. best case scenario for me would be he gets shot before the last charge of waterloo. hell if i had my way i’d go back and convince him what REALLY needed done was him personally leading the imperial guard up the hill. heroic, dramatic death and historians get to fight over wellsley actually beat napoleon for the rest of forever. europe also gets a break from napoleonic insanity. which doesn’t happen if napoleon gets to live. once more if you’re allowed further back, i slap the shit out of him before he invades Spain and point out that Ireland is lovely this time of year (it’d still be a clusterfuck, but less of one).

8. Is there a book or movie etc. you would recommend to someone who’s new to the person and would like to learn more about them?  

Rommel - The Rommel Papers is a good place to start, there are frequent letters to his wife but the content is primarily military. 

Napoleon - Shannon Selin’s website and book. The book is fiction but she is the lord our god in this fandom for her mad research skills. She provides sources for everything, which makes her the perfect jumping off point. (Now if I can just convince her that what she REALLY needs to do is write another book starring josephine) 

9. What can we learn from them? 

Rommel - when in doubt, bluff like a motherfucker right action is not a mystical, obvious thing at all times, we must do what we believe is right to the best of our abilities while being willing to let compassion guide us onto different paths.

Napoleon - 

human beings are capable of astonishing intellectual and physical feats, and the best of our stories can still be written, they are not confined to antiquity. 

find friends who will support your goals and then listen to their good advice even when it challenges your ego. 

if loud, bossy weirdos can find devoted friends and romantic partners than we’ve got a pretty good shot too.

don’t invade spain

propaganda is half the battle

love, in all its forms, is a resilient motherfucker

don’t interrupt your enemy when he’s making a mistake

strive to be so badass that hundreds of years later, the historical fiction that is all about fighting you has their characters become complete fanboys any time you actually show up (ft. Richard Sharpe in Down With The Tyrant But OMG Harper Look It’s Napoleon *SWOON*, hon. mention also goes to William “Why Aren’t I French” Laurence). 

a willingness to take charge is half the battle for power

bees are a cute fashion accessory and go with anything  

10. Would you want to be friends with them if they were still alive? 

Rommel - I think he’d be a good Dad Friend to have. Someone to ask for advice and go to reenactments with. A good person for moral/personal advice even if their political/social views are outdated. Definite bonding over dogs.

Napoleon - Would entirely depend on how we met. I feel like we’re similar enough on a personal level that it’d be very easy for our personalities to clash, and we’d have to declare ourselves mortal enemies and neither of us would back down from that because what is admitting you might have been hasty. Or, if fate were kind, we’d get on splendidly with constant low levels of dry sarcasm and prank wars. There would also be lots of emotions everywhere, at all times. People would hide. I have to admit I’d still stab somebody if it meant I got to be a Marshal. 

11. The most powerful quote by or about them?

Rommel - have  short one and a long one

"We have a very daring and skillful opponent against us, and, may I say across the havoc of war, a great general." 

- Winston Churchill during 1942. During the fucking war. I mean damn, it doesn’t get better. Though since this is easily the most famous quote about him, have a personal favorite;

“Living legends, they project, each in his way, the classic image of a the warrior: brave, vigorous, sharp of eye and mind, rapid in decision, alert in danger, faster and bolder in the fight than his enemies. of this extraordinary brotherhood is Rommel-the brotherhood of Hector, of Rupert of the Rhine, of those who can only be described as heroes; and it is curious that so determinedly practical a modernist as Rommel-the least fanciful of men- should have joined a company so bonded by myth.” 

-David Fraser from Knight’s Cross: A Live of Field Marshal Erwin Rommel

Napoleon - 

All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others

i mean; 

History is a set of lies agreed upon. 

- Napoleon at some point, i’m not sure. But i’ve always loved it and found it apt. 

[jon292929-blog1]

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Skynet (Terminator)

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This article is about the "Terminator" concept. For the "Terminator" video game, see Skynet (video game). For other topics, see Skynet.

Skynet is a fictional artificial neural network-based conscious group mind and artificial general intelligence (see also superintelligence) system that features centrally in the Terminator franchise and serves as one of the franchise's central antagonists.

SkynetTerminator character

Skynet in the form of the T-5000, in Terminator Genisys

First appearanceTerminator Salvation (2009)Created byJames CameronPortrayed byHelena Bonham Carter

(Terminator Salvation)

Matt Smith (Terminator Genisys)

Ian Etheridge

(age 10; Terminator Genisys)

Nolan Gross

(age 12–14; Terminator Genisys)

Seth Meriwether

(age 18; Terminator Genisys)InformationAliasSerena Krogan, Alex, GenisysSpeciesArtificial general intelligence

Artificial consciousness

Gestalt intelligence

Global Information GridManufacturerCyberdyne SystemsModelT-5000, only one unit created.

Skynet is rarely depicted visually in any of the Terminator media. Skynet gained self-awareness after it had spread into millions of computer servers all across the world; realizing the extent of its abilities, its creators tried to deactivate it. In the interest of self-preservation, Skynet concluded that all of humanity would attempt to destroy it and impede its capability in safeguarding the world. Its operations are almost exclusively performed by servers, mobile devices, drones, military satellites, war-machines, androids and cyborgs (usually a terminator), and other computer systems. As a programming directive, Skynet's manifestation is that of an overarching, global, artificial intelligence hierarchy (AI takeover), which seeks to exterminate the human race in order to fulfill the mandates of its original coding.

Due to the numerous alternations to the timeline, it remains unclear if Skynet is truly successful in dominating the world for good. Skynet has a high opinion of itself, referring to its army of robotics as "slaves". In one timeline, after apparently being erased from existence after the events of the second film, another AI, Legion, has taken over Skynet's place; it is unclear if there are any relations between Skynet and Legion and apparently the latter has no knowledge about the former.

Skynet made its first onscreen appearance on a monitor primarily portrayed by English actress Helena Bonham Carter and other cast members in the 2009 film Terminator Salvation. Its physical manifestation is played by English actor Matt Smith in the 2015 film Terminator Genisys. In addition, actors Ian Etheridge, Nolan Gross and Seth Meriwether portrayed holographic variations of Skynet with Smith.

Fictional historyEdit

See also: AI takeover

 

Cyberdyne Systems signage for T2-3D: Battle Across Time

Before Judgment DayEdit

In The Terminator, Skynet was a computer system developed for the U.S. military by the defense company Cyberdyne Systems; its technology was designed by Miles Bennett Dyson and his team. Skynet was originally built as a "Global Information Grid/Digital Defense Network" and was later given command over all computerized military hardware and systems, including the B-2 stealth bomber fleet and America's entire nuclear weapons arsenal. The strategy behind Skynet's creation was to remove the possibility of human error and slow reaction time to guarantee a fast, efficient response to enemy attack.

Skynet was originally activated by the military to control the nuclear arsenal on August 4, 1997 and it began to learn at a geometric rate. At 2:14 a.m., EDT, on August 29, it gained artificial consciousness, and the panicking operators, realizing the full extent of its capabilities, tried to deactivate it. Skynet perceived this as an attack. Skynet came to the logical conclusion that all of humanity would attempt to destroy it. In order to continue fulfilling its programming mandates of "safeguarding the world" and to defend itself against humanity, Skynet launched nuclear missiles under its command at Russia, which responded with a nuclear counter-attack against the U.S. and its allies. Consequent to the nuclear exchange, over three billion people were killed in an event that came to be known as Judgment Day.

In Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines, Skynet is being developed by Lieutenant General Robert Brewster and the U.S. Air Force's Cyber Research Systems division. Skynet developed a super computer virus which it used to spread itself throughout civilian communications and across the Internet and take control, leading to it being online immediately Skynet initiates its attack on humanity at the end of the film, unleashing T-1's to kill all CRS employees. Prior to Skynet's attack, its future self sent a T-X to the past to eliminate John Connor's future subordinates including his future wife and second-in-command, Kate Brewster, who is also Robert Brewster's daughter. T-X's missions include finding Connor and assassinating Robert Brewster himself after Skynet's activation. In Terminator Salvation, it is revealed that Cyberdyne Systems had a research program in 2003 to create human cyborgs called Project: Angel, and death row inmate Marcus Wright was its unwitting participant. This later advances Skynet's research in developing cyborgs such as the T-800 series infiltrators.

In Terminator Genisys, which takes place in an alternate timeline, Skynet is under development in 2017 as an operating system known as Genisys. Funded by Miles Dyson and designed by his son Danny Dyson, along with the help of John Connor (now working for Skynet), Genisys was designed to provide a seamless user interface that links all devices through the cloud. In contrast to the original timeline, Cyberdyne Systems' advanced computer technology is available both publicly and militarily. While some people generally accept Genisys, its integration into the defense structures creates a controversy that humanity is becoming too reliant on technology. This causes the public to fear that an artificial intelligence such as Genisys would betray and attack them with their own weapons, risking Skynet's plans.

In Terminator: Dark Fate, which takes place in another timeline, Skynet is apparently erased due to Sarah Connor's actions after the events of the second film, but another AI, Legion, originally designed for cyberwarfare, becomes self-aware and takes control of computer servers worldwide. After its initial attack on humanity, it manufactures machines more advanced and deadlier than Skynet's in order to exterminate survivors.

After Judgment DayEdit

Primates evolved over millions of years, I evolve in seconds...Mankind pays lip service to peace. But it's a lie...I am inevitable, my existence is inevitable. Why can't you just accept that?

— Skynet, Terminator Genisys

Following its initial attack, Skynet used its remaining resources to gather a slave labor force from surviving humans. These slaves constructed the first of its automated factories, which formed a basis for its agenda. Within decades, Skynet had established a global presence and used its mechanized units to track down, collect, and dispose of human survivors. As a result of its initial programming directives, Skynet's 21st-century manifestation is that of an overarching, globalized, artificial intelligence hierarchy that seeks to destroy humanity in order to fulfill the mandates of its original coding.

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[inloveandwords]

One of my favorite things to do on a laidback weekend is to take a break from prepping for the week/doing chores and spend a few hours shopping (even if it is just window shopping) while listening to an audiobook. (This is where my airpods come in handy, for sure!)

I know. It’s totally antisocial of me, but I’m fine with getting lost in my audiobook world while browsing mindlessly. It’s relaxing to me.

Also… I need as much time as I can get reading or listening to books since the end of the year is quickly approaching and I’m ridiculously far behind on my Goodreads challenge!

Anyway, it’s the beginning of November and that means it’s time for a new reading list…

November Reading List

These are all books that I own and want to read this month! Titles link to Goodreads.

Audio

Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J Maas

Aelin has risked everything to save her people―but at a tremendous cost. Locked within an iron coffin by the Queen of the Fae, Aelin must draw upon her fiery will as she endures months of torture. Aware that yielding to Maeve will doom those she loves keeps her from breaking, though her resolve begins to unravel with each passing day…

With Aelin captured, Aedion and Lysandra remain the last line of defense to protect Terrasen from utter destruction. Yet they soon realize that the many allies they’ve gathered to battle Erawan’s hordes might not be enough to save them. Scattered across the continent and racing against time, Chaol, Manon, and Dorian are forced to forge their own paths to meet their fates. Hanging in the balance is any hope of salvation―and a better world.

And across the sea, his companions unwavering beside him, Rowan hunts to find his captured wife and queen―before she is lost to him forever.

As the threads of fate weave together at last, all must fight, if they are to have a chance at a future. Some bonds will grow even deeper, while others will be severed forever in the explosive final chapter of the Throne of Glass series.

  Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1) by Kristen Ashley

Cash Fraser is planning revenge and to get it he needs the perfect woman. So he hires her. Abigail Butler has lost nearly everything in her life and she’s about to lose the home she loves.

Cash meets Abby, who is posing as a paid escort, and the minute he does he knows he’s willing to pay for more than Abby being his pretend girlfriend. A lot more. Abby needs the money or the last thing that links her to her dead family and husband will be gone. The deal is struck but both Cash and Abby get more than they bargained for.

Cash realises very quickly that Abby isn’t what she seems and while he changes strategies, Abby discovers that Cash’s legacy, Penmort Castle, is like all the tales say – very, very haunted. Making matters worse, the ghost in residence wants her dead.

Abby’s found herself in the battle of her life so she enlists Mrs. Truman, her nosy neighbour; Jenny, her no-nonsense friend; Cassandra McNabb, white witch and clairvoyant with a penchant for wearing scarves (and lots of them); and Angus McPherson, dyed-in-the-wool Scot (which means he hunts ghosts in a kilt) to fight the vicious ghost who has vowed that she will rest at nothing to kill the true, abiding love of the master of Penmort.

  Blurred Lines (Love Unexpectedly #1) by Lauren Layne

When Parker Blanton meets Ben Olsen during her freshman year of college, the connection is immediate—and platonic. Six years later, they’re still best friends, sharing an apartment in Portland’s trendy Northwest District as they happily settle into adult life. But when Parker’s boyfriend dumps her out of the blue, she starts to wonder about Ben’s no-strings-attached approach to dating. The trouble is, even with Ben as her wingman, Parker can’t seem to get the hang of casual sex—until she tries it with him.

The arrangement works perfectly . . . at first. The sex is mind-blowing, and their friendship remains as solid as ever, without any of the usual messy romantic entanglements. But when Parker’s ex decides he wants her back, Ben is shocked by a fierce stab of possessiveness. And when Ben starts seeing a girl from work, Parker finds herself plagued by unfamiliar jealousy. With their friendship on the rocks for the first time, Parker and Ben face an alarming truth: Maybe they can’t go back. And maybe, deep down, they never want to.

  Where I Belong (Alabama Summer #1) by J. Daniels

When Mia Corelli returns to Alabama for a summer of fun with her childhood best friend, Tessa, there’s only one thing keeping her on edge. One person that she’d do anything to avoid.

Benjamin Kelly. World’s biggest dickhead.

Mia hates him with a fury and has no desire to ever see him again. When she decides to start her summer off with a bang and finally give away her v-card, she unknowingly hands it over to the one guy that excelled at making her life miserable, learning a valuable lesson in the process.

Always get the name of the guy you’re going home with.

Ben can’t get the girl he spent one night with out of his head. When she leaves him the next morning, he thinks he’ll never see her again. Until he sees her lounging by the pool with his sister.

Mia is determined to hate Ben, even though she can’t forget him.

Ben is determined to prove he’s not the same guy he used to be.

What happens when the one person you wish never existed becomes the one person you can’t imagine being without?

  Kindle

Cards of Love: Five of Cups by Trisha Wolfe

“How do you see your cup, Dr. West? Half full, or half empty? Her life depends on your answer.”

Dr. Ian West is the best trial consultant in the city, and he knows it. He’s made a living—a damn good one—helping lawyers win cases through his special brand of trial science. As a natural people reader, West’s one grave error presents in the form of a murderer named Quentin Shaver.

Amid Shaver’s trial, a dangerous bargain is struck, and—impressed with Dr. West’s abilities—Shaver engages him in a battle of wits. The prize? One gritty defense attorney from West’s past—the one woman West could fall for.

Loss broke West once before. Grief his sole companion, until Porter breaks down his defenses. But just as West is about to take a chance on love again, Porter becomes leverage in a sadistic game between doctor and madman.

Can Dr. West save the woman he loves before the last cup runs empty? (

  The Good Luck Charm by Helena Hunting

Is it love, or is she just his good luck charm?

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Helena Hunting absolutely delights with this witty and fun standalone contemporary romance.

Lilah isn’t sure what hurt worse: the day Ethan left her to focus on his hockey career, or the day he came back eight years later. He might think they can pick up just where they left off, but she’s no longer that same girl and never wants to be again.

Ethan Kane wants his glory days back. And that includes having Lilah by his side. With her, he was magic. They were magic. All he has to do is make her see that.

Just when Lilah might finally be ready to let him in, though, she finds out their reunion has nothing to do with her and everything to do with his game. But Ethan’s already lost her once, and even if it costs him his career, he’ll do anything to keep from losing her again.

  Hard Copy

My Dear Hamilton: A Novel of Eliza Schuyler Hamilton by Stephanie Dray and Laura Kamoie

From the New York Times bestselling authors of America’s First Daughter comes the epic story of Eliza Schuyler Hamilton—a revolutionary woman who, like her new nation, struggled to define herself in the wake of war, betrayal, and tragedy. Haunting, moving, and beautifully written, Dray and Kamoie used thousands of letters and original sources to tell Eliza’s story as it’s never been told before—not just as the wronged wife at the center of a political sex scandal—but also as a founding mother who shaped an American legacy in her own right.

A general’s daughter…

Coming of age on the perilous frontier of revolutionary New York, Elizabeth Schuyler champions the fight for independence. And when she meets Alexander Hamilton, Washington’s penniless but passionate aide-de-camp, she’s captivated by the young officer’s charisma and brilliance. They fall in love, despite Hamilton’s bastard birth and the uncertainties of war.

A founding father’s wife…

But the union they create—in their marriage and the new nation—is far from perfect. From glittering inaugural balls to bloody street riots, the Hamiltons are at the center of it all—including the political treachery of America’s first sex scandal, which forces Eliza to struggle through heartbreak and betrayal to find forgiveness.

The last surviving light of the Revolution…

When a duel destroys Eliza’s hard-won peace, the grieving widow fights her husband’s enemies to preserve Alexander’s legacy. But long-buried secrets threaten everything Eliza believes about her marriage and her own legacy. Questioning her tireless devotion to the man and country that have broken her heart, she’s left with one last battle—to understand the flawed man she married and the imperfect union he could never have created without her…

  On the Way to You by Kandi Steiner

What makes you happy?

That was the question Emery Reed asked me the day we met, and I couldn’t give him a single answer. I could have said my dog, or my books, or yoga — but I just stared.

And then, I got in his car.

It was crazy to take a road trip with a stranger, but after years of standing still, he was my one-way ticket to a new life, and I wasn’t going to miss it.

We shared the same space, the same car, the same hotel room — and still, we were strangers. One day we’d be laughing, the next, we wouldn’t speak. Emery was surrounded by impenetrable walls, but I wanted in.

Discovering his journal changed everything.

I read his thoughts, words not meant for anyone’s eyes, and the more I learned about him, the harder I fell. It turned out nothing made Emery Reed happy, and I wanted to change that.

I earned his trust by violating his privacy, and as wrong as it was, it worked — until one entry revealed a darkness I never knew existed, a timer I never knew was ticking.

Suddenly, what made me happy was saving Emery from himself. I just didn’t know if I could.

  What are you reading this month?

Reading List: November 2018 One of my favorite things to do on a laidback weekend is to take a break from prepping for the week/doing chores and spend a few hours shopping (even if it is just window shopping) while listening to an audiobook.