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thegirlwhomoanedwolf · 4 years

Text

On his knees

Klaus x Reader

( reader shows Klaus she can take control too)

Warnings: 18+, Dom reader, edging/denial, choking

That was the last straw (y/n) thought as she drove twenty plus over the speed limit towards her and Klaus’s mansion. Two days ago he had left to New Orleans without warning her and told her to “stay home like a good little pet, don’t want you getting hurt by the big boys,” before abruptly hanging up when she had called to confront him. How dare he insinuate she was weak. She was a powerful witch and just because she rarely used her talents didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of kicking ass. She was fed up with him treating her like she was less than and that ended tonight. As soon as the security system alerted her he was home the wave of anger came back at her full force. He was going to pay.

Klaus heard (y/n) pull into the driveway and could practically feel the anger coming off of her. His cock twitched having spent two days away, already needing to be Inside of her. He’d make her forget about his indiscretion with mind blowing sex like he usually did. As he heard her footsteps reach the front door he smiled ready to claim her as his like usual.

“ Niklaus!,” (y/n)s voice echoed through the large mansion as she angrily yelled for her lover. She stomped towards his art room and wasn’t disappointed when she found him there. Her heart raced as she saw his bare chest and black low hanging jeans covering a very prominent bulge.

“ hello love,” he smirked stepping away from his easel. He began to walk toward her seductively “I’ve missed you my pet.”

His cockiness pissed her off even more. (Y/n) glared at him an idea forming in her mind “ on your knees wolf,” she ordered sternly.

Klaus let out a loud laugh finding humor in her attempt to control him.

(Y/n) spoke louder as she held out her hand toward him magic flowing through her forcing him to the ground “ I said on your knees wolf.”

Klaus couldn’t believe what she had done. In all their years together she had never used her powers against him. He looked up at her a mix of emotions going through his head. He was angry she was controlling him yet extremely turned on by the display of her power. He wanted to get up and ravage her to show (y/n) who was really in charge. At the same time he wondered where she was going with this. His cock ached as he looked up at her speechless waiting for her next move. He was desperate to be inside of her.

She walked over to him and ran her hands through his curly hair, “oh niklaus you must stop treating me like I’m a powerless little girl.” Grabbing his hair she pulled his head back to make him look directly into her eyes “I allow you to take control of me because I like it.”

He was the most powerful being on the planet and she didn’t allow him to do anything he thought. Attempting to get up and overpower her he realized no matter how hard he tried he was frozen. This angered him even more.

“Be a good little pet and stop trying to break free,” she chided using his own words against him.

“ I am no ones pet,” he replied venomously. “ let me free now (y/n) your little game is over.”

(Y/n) stepped backwards removing her boots and socks ignoring him.

“ Free me at once (y/n)!”

“ not until I take what I want,” she replied casually and he watched as she pulled her top over her head freeing her breasts. He tried breaking free again the need to touch her even stronger than before.

“ let me touch touch you,” he said gently trying to gain his freedom by applealing to her sensitive nature.

(Y/n) unzipped her jeans and pulled them off throwing them to the side and smiled seeing how helpless Klaus looked. She felt him try to fight against her magical restraints and knew how badly he wanted her which made all of this even better. “ fine you can touch me.” Klaus went to speed toward her only to realize she hadn’t freed him.

Frustrated in more ways than one he irritatedly huffed “ you said I could touch you.”

Walking over to him she kneeled and pressed her breasts against him feeling him tense up. Her face only an inch away from his she wrapped both hands in his hair and moved her lips to his. They both moaned into the kiss and the friction caused by her pushing her body completely flush to his. He tried to take over the kiss with his tongue and she pulled away completely.

“Please (y/n) I beg of you, I need you.” He couldn’t take it anymore he would grovel if that’s what it took. She stood back up with her core directly in front of his face. His mouth watered smelling her arousal.

“ I needed you when you left without notice,” she slowly slid her hand into her panties as his eyes followed. He watched as her hand moved underneath the lace fabric. “ I had to take care of my self and my hand isn’t nearly as skilled as your mouth,” she sighed.

“ Then let me taste you,” he offered pleading with his eyes.

(Y/n) removed her hand from underneath the fabric and brushed her soaked fingers against his lips. Her insides tightened as she watched him lick his lips a growl leaving them.

“ do you want more? ”

“ I want to devour you,” he replied eyes glowing gold the beast in him coming forth.

He watched as she stepped out of the lace in response and moved herself so close to him he could almost reach her with his mouth. Wrapping a hand in his hair she spoke “ I will let you move your head but you will obey my orders. Understand?.”

“ whatever you want my love.” He replied giving in to her desires.

“ kiss me slowly, show me how sorry you are, show me how much you want me.”

Klaus moved his head forward slowly and gently kissed her most sensitive spot. He kissed her again putting his passion into it and enjoyed the sounds she was already starting to make. He twirled his tongue around her and felt her knees began to buckle as she tried to hold herself up.

“harder.” (y/n) whispered quickly needing even more.

As Klaus applied more pressure he felt her begin to shake and found his body pressed against the floor. (Y/n) crawled onto his face and ground herself down on his mouth. She reached one arm back and rubbed him over his jeans.

“ oh yes (y/n),” he groaned finally being touched where he so desperately needed.

She unzipped his jeans and pulled out his large member stroking it firmly as she continued to grind down onto his face.

“ do you want to be inside of me?”

“ more than anything love,” he pleaded.

(Y/n) climbed off of his face which was now glistening and worked her way down his body kissing as she went. When she reached his lower stomach she sat back and pulled his jeans off leaving him completely naked in front of her. She went back to kissing his lower abdomen and he sighed as she licked near his member. Grabbing him with her small hand she looked into his eyes and wrapped her mouth around his cock humming in approval of how good he felt. He was a fearless warrior yet a romantic and his cock was the same. It was big and hard as steel yet velvety soft in her mouth.

As her need became too strong she pulled away his cock leaving her mouth with a loud ‘pop’. (Y/n) straddled him resting her palms against his strong chest and teased the both of them by rubbing herself up and down him without letting him enter.

Grabbing his cock she placed it at her entrance “ I’m going to fuck you but you aren’t allowed to cum until I say you can.”

Klaus was going to protest but all other thoughts were lost as he felt her tightness slowly sink down on him. They moaned in unison when he was as deep as she could take him. He looked up admiring her as she began to slowly lift herself up and down on his member. He wanted to touch her so badly but watched as her hand reached down and played with her clit.

His eyes rolled as he felt her already start to tighten around him. She picked up her pace bouncing on his cock even more forcefully.

“ oh yes,” she screamed getting closer to her orgasm.

Klaus needed release so badly. “ can I come with you (y/n) ?”

“ no,” she moaned before trembling around him crying out his name. He used all of his willpower to hold back his orgasm even though he wanted nothing more than to cum with her.

(Y/n) stilled breathing heavily after her orgasm resting her body against his and kissed him their tongues entertwining. Finally regaining the energy she sat up and began to move her hips again.

“ tell me wolf do you like it when I take control?” She asked as she slowly bounced on his large cock. Trying to focus his energy on not cumming Klaus didn’t respond.

(Y/n) wrapped her hand around his throat stopping her movements completely, “ I asked do you like when I take control?”

Klaus looked at her knowing he had truly met his match. “ yes.”

With her hand still wrapped around his throat she used it to balance as she leaned down to kiss him as her hips began to move again. Sitting back up she planted her feet on the floor leaning back to give him a fill view of her body. Her breasts bounced as she rode him and he watched as her pussy stretched around him with each thrust.

When her hand went to her clit he spoke, “can I cum with you love?”

“Not yet wolf.” She responded focusing on her pleasure.

He felt her begin to tense around him and didn’t know if he could hold it off this time.

“ I don’t know if I can stop it this time (y/n),” he said strained already trying his hardest to fight it wanting to please her.

“ I want to hear you beg for it,” he smiled hearing her repeat the words he said to her so often.

“ please (y/n) let me cum.” He begged.

She moaned loudly almost there, “ no.”

“ fuck love,” he shut his eyes concentrating on holding off, “ I’m begging you please let me cum, I’ll do anything you want, you’re so tight I can’t take it anymore.”

His words sent (y/n) over the edge and she cried out “ yes, yes, yes, your cock feels so good Klaus, please cum for me.”

Klaus growled loudly his fangs dropping as she milked him with her orgasm. His vision went black and he would have thought someone snapped his neck if it weren’t for the fact he could hear (y/n) moan above him and feel her still pulsing around him.

When his vision returned Klaus looked at (y/n) amazed. He wrapped his arm around her finally free and pulled her to him lifting her from the cold floor and walking them to their large bed upstairs.

He kissed her and laughed “ you made me cum so hard I lost my sight.”

She giggled in response, “ now you see why I let you take control so much.”

He looked at her amused , “ well I might have to let you take control of me more often.”

She looked at him cockily , “ well I think tonight proved I can take control whenever I want. Remember that when you think I can’t handle the big boys.”

He snuggled closer to her, “ I’m sorry for acting that way (y/n).” He pressed his hardening member into her thigh. “ I think there’s a big boy right here you could handle again.”

#vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagine #vampire diaries smut #the originals #the originals smut #the originals imagine #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus x reader smut #klaus smut #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson

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madara-fate · 3 years

Note

Now that the final opening for AOT has been released, how would you rank all seven of them?

Oh man, this is gonna be a tough one. Before I begin though, I'd just like to clarify that I do like all of the openings, but there are just some that I like more than others, particularly the top 4 places.

7. "Path of Aspirations and Corpses" (Season 3 Opening 2):

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In my opinion, this song was just a little too similar to "Crimson Bow and Arrow". Now I very much like that song, but I wanted something a little more unique. Plus, while the visuals and effects were stunning, they all took place within The Battle of Shiganshina. Now I understand that the battle incorporated the majority of the season, but I would have liked to have had a larger visual variety.

6. "The Wings of Freedom" (Season 1 Opening 2):

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Linked Horizon's songs always just make you feel like a soldier about to go into battle and that was no different here, but I preferred "Crimson Bow and Arrow" (who doesn't?), and the part where they focused on the 3D manoeuvre gear, while cool, didn't show much, and I feel this section lasted a little too long for how little it showed.

5. "My War" (Final Season Opening 1):

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Like a lot of other people, this song took a little while to grow on me, but it definitely did once I began to appreciate it's uniqueness. It incorporates very clever symbolism and it's use of colours is unrivalled. And the vocals, while simple, are still very effective.

4. "Red Swan" (Season 3 Opening 1):

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After 3 straight openings by Linked Horizon which always got you pumped up and hyped, along came "Red Swan" which had a completely different feel to it. But it was fitting because Season 3 Pt.1 also had a completely different feel to it - It was no longer about fighting the titans. In fact, regular titans didn't even appear at all. It was about the intricate relationships and revelations between the characters, and I think this more personal tone was reflected very effectively through the opening by the song, the visuals and the lyrics - "What's the lie? What's the truth? What to believe?", that's perfect. My bias for the piano also definitely plays a part in this.

3. "Sacrifice Your Hearts!" (Season 2 Opening):

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That chorus man... That chorus. It was almost enough to put it in 2nd place, but I think "Crimson Bow and Arrow" just does more. I still think the giant dinosaurs and animals at the end are a little weird, but my god that chorus though, it's enough to make me wanna devote my heart to some non-existent cause, it's that motivational.

2. "Crimson Bow and Arrow" (Season 1 Opening 1):

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Ah, where it all began. This song is iconic and perfectly incorporated what AOT was (at the time, lol). A hype song, a great blend of art styles and visual designs, effective story telling with the scenes displayed, and a brilliant way to start the series.

1. "The Rumbling" (Final Season Opening 2):

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I had to give this first place man, I had to, I just love this opening. The feeling of dread that the lyrics evoke regarding how we need to beware because the Rumbling is coming, juxtaposed with those about how Eren "swears" that he never wanted to become what he is now, is simply amazing. The heavy metal very effectively reflects the sheer chaos and intensity of what is soon to come in the story, and the chorus focusing on the idea of "losing it all" really brings into perspective just how much is at stake in this final stretch. This opening gave me chills, no other opening had accomplished that.

#Attack on Titan #Shingeki no Kyojin

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beinmybonnet · 4 years

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29th June 1613 - London, England

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?

“He went to the trouble to have a draft carried all the way to Brandenburg for me, the least I can do is attend the opening night.”

Andromache rolls her shoulders into her partlet. “The least you can do maybe. Why am I doing this?”

“Because you missed me. And because you cried when we saw Othello.” Yusuf replies, looking sideways at her. Curbing the inevitable objection, Quynh squeezes Nicolò’s arm and strides forwards to overtake them. He lets himself be dragged after her, taking care not to tread on her skirts.

“I love the theatre. Plus, we’ve spent the last week sleeping in a shack in the Dales. This,” Quynh waves her free arm over the bridge rail, “is a nice change of scenery.”

London Bridge is teeming with people, the warmth of the bustle settling like cinders into his skin. The city writhes in its haste. Against the far bank of the Thames tall buildings strike against the horizon, the old Southwark Priory still reaching high in spent pride. Buildings are painted pale with dark beams striking bold across them. It is beautiful in its own way, Nicolò thinks. Inelegant, but unique.

“It wasn’t that bad. I still think we should have stayed a little longer, at least until-

“Andromache we’ve slept in nicer caves.”

Quynh glances back over her shoulder meaningfully, brow rising. Andromache shrugs. A smile, although few would recognise it. They step down onto the riverbank as one, turning east.

Nicolò nudges his shoulder into Yusuf as they pass the gardens. “You fail to mention you sent that script back with corrections.”

“Revisions. Small ones.” Yusuf’s voice is low, his expression impish. “Barely noticeable.”

“Ah, here we are.” Yusuf waves Andromache forward into their usual first-floor booth and steps back to allow Quynh to pass. Nicolò pauses, peering up the stairwell.

“Full house.”

“First performance. Trust me, this will be one to remember.” Yusuf is bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, and it makes Nicolò want to tuck his chin over a bobbing shoulder.

“You’d think the city would be a bit more subdued,” Andromache settles herself on the bench tucking thick plum skirts around her calves. She happily accepts a bag of roasted hazelnuts from Yusuf as he passes her to stand at the balcony. “They’ve only just recovered from their last bout of plague.”

“Exactly! This is the power of art.” Yusuf beams, arm sweeping wide. “Look at these people.” All around them the crowd is seething with anticipation, the noise growing as the wait goes on. Children scramble in the lower level of the yard for better vantage points, clawing their way up the beams supporting the lower galleries. People are shouting and laughing and drinking, the sound cocooned tight within the impressive structure. A man swings a laughing boy up over the mass, and a small group of women pressed against the stage begin shouting a suspicious sounding rhyme, pointing across the pit. Before they can finish a man in the gallery beneath them roars his response across the yard.

Nicolò’s brow furrows. “Clot-pole? I don’t…”

“She’s calling him an idiot,” Andromache supplies, “and insulting his hat.”

“It is a bit much.” Quynh’s leaning over the balcony to get a better look. “I think she’s accusing him of, err – short-changing her. Last night.”

Still grinning, Yusuf peers over beside her. “Oh, she’s quite angry. Here we go.” He sounds delighted. What looks like a parsnip sails over the head of the crowd. “A pity, she’ll want those for the third act.”

Quynh’s now bent almost double over the bannister and Andromache reaches to steady her without looking. “Isn’t this sort of thing that made the man move half of the troupe over to Blackfriars?”

Yusuf shakes his head in fond exasperation. “Ah, William has become far too prudish in his success. The engagement of the audience is the nature of theatre.”

“Engagement?” Nicolò smirks as something below meets its mark with a splat and a shout.

“Well, you cannot deny their enthusiasm-”

Quynh reappears with a whoop of triumph clutching her prize; a browning cabbage intercepted in the air. She rotates the rotten vegetable in careful examination. “Excellent.”

Yusuf raises his hand in hopeless protest as Nicolò leans back in his seat, eyeing Quynh. “10 crowns says you can’t hit the stage from here.”

She snorts derisively.

“20 if you can take King Henry off his feet.” Andromache counters, rising slightly to gauge the distance. Done, Quynh agrees happily, settling beside her and tucking her cabbage under the bench. Yusuf mutters an exasperated appeal for help to the heavens and Nicolò quickly tugs him down into the remaining space with a hand over his knee.

The parting of the stage curtain prompts the dropping of remaining projectiles and an enthusiastic cheer from the crowd. The herald clears his throat, steps to the edge of the stage and spreads his arms.

The first and happiest hearers of the town,

I come no more to make you laugh; things now,

That bear a weighty and a serious brow,

Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,

Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,

We now present. Those that can pity, here

May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;

Be sad, as we would make ye

“Oh, so a comedy?” Quynh says brightly and Yusuf shushes her.

The first actors emerge from the wings in their velvets and the tale takes flight.

In all this noble bevy, has brought with her

One care abroad; he would have all as merry

As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome,

Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy:

Yusuf is mouthing the words soundlessly, engrossed.

There are many things Nicolò has enjoyed about visiting theatres over the years. He will readily admit this performance is an enjoyable one - the young man playing Buckingham is particularly charismatic, the audience viscerally immersed in his indignation. The actors proudly deliver their lines and their story to an increasingly hypnotised audience.

But the play itself has never been what really draws Nicolò to this place. He glances sideways again and immediately, expectedly, loses the thread of the plot. In this moment the talent on the stage could never hope to hold his interest as he sits beside this man. Yusuf has lost himself entirely to the unfolding tale, gaze flitting from figure to figure calling below. Passion alight in his eyes. The arts do this to him in a way Nicolò has seen nothing else in all their time together. They have walked familiar paths in gallery halls for hours on end, Yusuf’s eyes roving walls of painted expression. They’ve sat in houses of the dying and listened to children bringing comfort with songs of naivety. Literature, dance, poetry, music; in all their changing forms they have always arrested Yusuf in his entirety.

These things give people freedom Nicolò, true freedom, he had once said. Free of limitation and expectation, in art people reveal their true selves. It is beautiful.

For Nicolò, that beauty is reflected blindingly in Yusuf’s own experience. To watch him like this for the rest of his given days would see him depart this earth achingly grateful to his God.

But Yusuf feels his distraction and leans toward him. “You’re missing it,” he murmurs, smile pulling impossibly wider. Unbridled delight is etched at the edges of his eyes, and Nicolò wants to trace his fingertips over the creases. He only realises he has reached out and done so when Yusuf captures and kisses his palm. “Watch the play.”

“It is a story still within living memory, I know how it ends,” Nicolò whispers.

Yusuf will not have it, nodding towards the actors. “Watch them tell it.”

Anne Boleyn is drifting across the stage, hand at her chest and Nicolò turns dutifully back to the performance.

Was he mad, sir?

O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too:

But he would bite none; just as I do now,

He would kiss you twenty with a breath.

This time it’s Yusuf’s eyes that flicker back towards him and Nicolò hears silent words in the curl of his lip. Twenty kisses in a single breath. A risky venture, no?

Nicolò hums, his thoughts mirrored beside him. We shall see.

Good lord chamberlain,

Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;

And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em

Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty

Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.

You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.

A good digestion to you all: and once more

I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all!

King Henry VIII emerges from the curtains with a flourish, the actor clearly taking great pains not to stumble in breeches that billow around his knees. The theatre bursts into applause as a round of trumpets sound, and they shout their approval at the blast of a canon from the rafters. The actors move to their marks to begin the scene in earnest, and Andromache leans forward with interest for the first time.

“See, I told you! With the funding now available, they’ve really spared no expense,” Yusuf is still clapping. Andromache hums noncommittally sitting back, but her eyes are suddenly bright with curiosity.

“Quynh, if you’re going to win your money, I suggest you do it now.”

“Why? I was going to wait until the trial scene,” she replies, confused.

From his place beside her Nicolò can see clearly that Andromache is struggling to suppress a smirk. “Well, there won’t be much left by then.”

“What?” Quynh looks down the bench at him. He shrugs. Andromache sighs around her growing amusement.

Seconds pass before she speaks again.

“They’ve set the roof on fire.”

He doesn’t need long to piece together what’s happened. There’s a thin plume of smoke rising from the inner curve of the roof and within, a flicker of light no bigger than that from a candle waving gently in the rafters. The canon. They wadded the canon, he realises. The little flame wafts higher in the breeze. The crowd is oblivious, too focused on the stage to be looking upwards. He taps Yusuf’s thigh.

It does take a moment. “Oh dear.” Yusuf looks back and forth between the roof and the stage, face falling. “Well maybe-

There’s a loud pop as the flame meets eager fuel. It dances up into the thatch lining the hooped roof and flares wide and greedy. Whip fast, it licks across the reeds consuming them in crunches and cracks that have people now looking skywards and shouting. Those in the highest galleries rear back as the fire completes its rapid circuit of the roof. By the time the actors have abandoned their attempts at continuing and stand dumbstruck on the stage, the theatre is ringed in an ominous halo of flame.

“Yusuf, unless your intention is a repeat of ’54…” Quynh trails off sadly, holding her cabbage.

Clumps of lit thatch are beginning to drift into the standing audience and the pushing and shoving follows in earnest. One man charges through the crowd braying, his breeches alight. Andromache stands looking decidedly more cheerful. “Come on, we’ll help them clear the pit.”

Nicolò follows suit, a hand falling to Yusuf’s shoulder. He has to work to quell an absurd urge to laugh; Yusuf is glaring at the roof with all the stubbornness of a chastised child. He squeezes gently, sympathy winning out. “I’m sorry.”

“Canons, who on earth thought canons in a wooden building was…” Yusuf trails off, glancing up. “Nothing to be done I suppose.” He holds out his other hand. “Shall we?”

Drawing Yusuf up behind him, Nicolò moves out into the stairwell twisting up into the higher galleries where people are starting to pile down in haste. An older man stumbles in the rush and he reaches out to steady him. “Careful, sir. Head out towards the river.”

The man nods and quickly hurries on pressing his handkerchief to his mouth. The next woman through the door snatches her arm up to her chest before he can move to offer any assistance. Dirty papist she spits as she veers away. Yusuf tenses, a hard line pressed at his back. Nicolò just dips his head.

“Please hurry.”

By the time the flow of people has ebbed the flames are beginning to consume the ornate stage pillars. The curtains masking backstage catch like parchment and blaze furiously. “We should make sure the galleries are clear,” he says, “you take the east, I the west?”

Yusuf eyes the roof timbers warily. “Five minutes. No more.”

In the end it only takes Nicolò four minutes to usher the last stubborn gamblers from the gentleman’s room. The fact that the smoke has now crept down to waist level speeds this along nicely, and they hurry to the stairwell hunched and coughing. Nicolò stays low, following them down the last steep flight when his foot catches on something in the darkness, almost putting his hand through the adjacent wall in an attempt to steady himself. There’s a man slouched in the corner, limbs sprawled wide and snoring. An empty bladder clutched to his chest. The strength of the brandy fumes punch through the dense smoke to further sting at his eyes and his irritation almost threatens to outweigh his conscience. Almost.

By the time he staggers out into clear air dragging his oblivious charge Nicolò know he’s been much longer than five minutes. Behind him there’s a crash which sounds very much like the galleries have finally given in and collapsed. Sounds like, because his eyes are clenched shut, burning and watering. Pressing his hands to his knees, he tries not to gag on the tar in his throat.

A hand settles on the back of his neck whilst another cups a palmful of water to his face. Nicolò winces.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, “He’s heavier than he looks.”

He can hear Yusuf grinding his teeth but his response is surprisingly placid. “Rinse your eyes.”

Yusuf presses a water skin into his hands and moves away. When Nicolò’s vision has cleared he spots him back near the eastern entrance, patiently shepherding two enraptured boys further from the fire as they gape at the sky. Even for one who has seen much, Nicolò must admit, it is quite a sight.

The playhouse’s cylindrical shape has moulded the fire into a twirling steeple of flame inside the structure, now reaching twenty feet clear of the building itself. The Globe resembles an enormous cauldron struggling to hold its roiling contents. It belches clouds of thick black smoke as its rim splinters and cracks under the pressure and heat. What’s left of the thatch continues to feed the furnace, keeping the flames bright and fierce.

Quynh appears, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow to steer him away. She leads him to a grassy curve of the riverbank where people are congregating in groups and beginning to resettle on the ground. From one muse to another, the audience remain eager spectators, gasping and whooping as the bones of the building begin to break, sending up showers of sparks. Yusuf and Andromache join them just as the walls start to keel inwards.

“You were right, definitely one of his more memorable works,” Andromache announces as they sit. “Perhaps my favourite.”

“Yes, I’m so very glad you enjoyed yourself.” Yusuf’s tone is flat, but his eyes roll indulgently.

Quynh settles herself back against Andromache’s bent knees, facing the playhouse. “We can still make a night of it. We get a bottle of wine, some pastries. Watch the sunset.” Her voices softens slightly and she levels her gaze at them. “You really must go so soon?”

He looks to Yusuf, who nods. “We have passage on a ship to Antwerp. She leaves on the tide tomorrow morning.”

Quynh’s sigh is dejected. “You won’t consider staying just a little longer? We’re moving on to…” she trails off, peering up at Andromache – Devon, she supplies, “We could use your help relocating these women. The trials are becoming barbaric.”

Yusuf shakes his head, surveying the crowd. “I’d prefer not to tempt fate. London is not at its most welcoming for us presently.

Nicolò quirks his lip. “You mean for me.” Ah, he sees now. The woman from earlier is stood just a little further up the bank, clutching at well-dressed man and pointing at them. Yusuf stares back unflinchingly. Nicolò feels him shift to further block her line of sight to him.

Then he turns back to meet Nicolò’s eye and speaks firmly. “For us. If a place does not welcome you, it does not welcome me.”

Quynh has watched the exchange carefully and suddenly sits up. She clears her throat and calls out loudly enough for those nearest to turn. “Thou art a boil, madam, a plague sore!”

Andromache snorts and the woman raises her fan to her face appalled, tugging on her husband’s arm. It has the intended effect on Yusuf though and his grin returns to its proper place. Nicolò feels a familiar rush of affection for Quynh and her unfailing ability to put people at ease.

“King Lear,” Yusuf says proudly. “I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

“Of course she was,” Andromache interjects, “It’s a magnum opus of insults.”

Quynh grins up at her. “Oh, you worsted-stockinged knave.”

The retort is instant. “Brazen-faced varlet.”

“Ancient ruffian.”

Andromache shrugs. “Accurate.”

Their laughter comes in easy unison and Yusuf’s expression is unbearably soft as he watches them. “It won’t be for long,” he promises.

Quynh pulls her eyes from Andromache and nods. “Probably a sensible choice at the moment. You do look violently Venetian Nicolò.

He wrinkles his nose, affronted. “I do not-”

Yusuf is reaching for his face, so he pauses his protest for the gentle pass of a thumb over the bridge of his nose. “It’s your profile my love.” Yusuf’s tongue darts out over the pad of his thumb before it returns to rub more firmly at his nose. “Which currently is very sooty.”

With his hands still upon Nicolò’s face he murmurs. “Oh but what a piece of work is this man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel,” Yusuf blinks, his sincerity blinding, “in apprehension how like a god.”

It’s all Nicolò can do not to rub his flushed cheeks into Yusuf’s palms like an alley cat.

Andromache arches a refined brow at Quynh. “Nicolò gets a Hamletian ode to his soul, and I get ‘ruffian’?”

Quynh rocks onto her elbow in the grass without missing a beat. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Mayhap a smouldering playhouse, ablaze in righteous flame?

“Likened to a smoking wreckage, how romantic.”

Nicolò would laugh but Yusuf is still holding his gaze and his face, everything else muting around him. He does this; bestows his love in soft declarations that leave Nicolò stunned, and then holds him steady until the words perfuse. Nicolò loves him so much he feels he might combust, with all the ferocity of the fire at his back.

Centuries before, he had allowed his disbelief to ask a question once, and only once. The intensity frightening him. Could a gift such as this truly be his eternal?

Nicolò smiles at his world and whispers.

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and gives life to thee.

held in the embers on ao3 at theexistentialteapot

part one of this series can be found here

#god this one took years off me #but it's done!#thank you bones for the final shove over the finish line #i am so soft for this found family #and they deserve happy memories #yusuf would 1000% have been a theatre kid #the headcanon is lodged #userbones #usermarwan #tusermj #tuserceleste #the old guard fic #the old guard #mine

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Enough, Always: Izzy

CW: Newly adult child of whumper and whumpee, whumper in prison, references to romantic/intimate whump, referenced child emotional abuse, verbal abuse, brief gendered appearance insults with single line of brief homophobia at end, plus final crowning moment of badass for Izzy.

Izzy’s mother Savannah Marcoset has been locked in prison on a life sentence without parole for eleven years for abducting Izzy’s father Jax, keeping him captive, and forcing him into a horrifying facsimile of domestic bliss - and Izzy last saw her in person fourteen years ago, when her father escaped with her and her infant brother in one desperate final bid for freedom.

Newly eighteen and feeling the need for some kind of closure in one of the foundational aspects of her identity, Izzy decides to visit America - and pay a visit to her incarcerated mother.

During the visit, she learns that Savvie Marcoset, in the end, couldn’t change - but Izzy fucking Gallagher did.

For the first time with her mother, Izzy finds her voice.

Jax Gallagher (referenced) belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with permission.

---

“Is this how you dress now?” Her mother’s voice is sharp-edged and still familiar, even fourteen years since Izzy last spoke to her face to face. It’s funny, how she barely remembered it, but as soon as she hears it, her heart starts to race, and it’s the feeling of her heart beating wings inside her chest. It’s the way other people might remember the sense of a warm hand to forehead, checking for illness, or laughter, or praise.

It’s a voice like a fever, a rush of chill down her spine and through her arms and thighs. Is it familiar from real memories, or because Izzy has heard it in interviews and documentaries and recordings, during her nights spent researching the woman who makes up half her genetics and absolutely none of her life?

She almost gets up and leaves right then.

Almost.

But Izzy Gallagher fought for this trip, had declared herself able and willing to do this, had more importantly convinced her father she needed to do this. She can’t just give up because it didn’t start well.

Even if he wouldn’t judge her, or at least he wouldn’t show it, Izzy Gallagher sets her shoulders and declares herself her father’s stubborn strong daughter, and not her mother’s weak and frightened one.

She steels herself against the instinctive uncertainty, the rush of anxious shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t have tried. Instead, she gives her mother a faint smile as a plastic-and-metal chair is pulled out and she sits down across the small round table, just enough space there isn’t any danger of accidental - or, hopefully, purposeful - touch.

The walls are beige, the top of the table is a wood so pale it might as well be. There are bars on the window that lets in a pale and faded winter sun. There are some others, nearby, people younger or older than she sitting at other round tables, seeing mothers, wives, aunts, sisters. Izzy wonders if all of them are scared, or if none of them are. If it’s only her who has to remember how to breathe, in her mother’s presence.

She can do this. She told him she could do this.

“Um.” Izzy looks down at herself - just a band shirt and faded jeans worn with holes, her still-knobby knees showing through, the boots a birthday gift from Nana she’d thought would help her crunch through the grayish snow in the parking lot, a light hooded sweater over it all - and then up again. Her mother’s eyes are still wide-set in her face, which is less rounded as time has passed.

Those eyes are still overbright, and very blue.

It’s been so long since Savannah Marcoset saw her eldest child, and Izzy can’t ever remember having been the focus of her mother’s all-consuming interest before. It feels like standing in the eye of a storm, where everything is still but the air carries weight, electricity, and threat.

“Mostly,” Izzy says, finally. “Mostly this is how I dress. I mean, I couldn’t wear gray, could I? They wouldn’t let me leave.” She tries to sound lighthearted, then winces. Bad joke.

Her mother, in what looks almost like flat gray scrubs, with a high-cut V-neck and a waist without a drawstring, smiles back, apparently unoffended. There’s a shift - subtle as a cat moving onto its back paws in grass, eyes focused on a nearby bird. Izzy has always been sensitive to changes in the tension of a room, and her own eyes - hazel leaning towards brown, her father’s eyes through and through - move to a nearby guard, reassuring herself with his presence.

Savannah Marcoset is firmly locked in prison for life, with handcuffs and ankle-cuffs that ensure she can’t make herself a threat here, and still the soft nearly-buzzed hair at the back of Izzy’s neck stands up, and she feels like she is being inspected, a bit of bacteria in some scientist’s microscope.

“I had hoped for a little more color, is all,” Her mother says, tilting her head to the side, giving an impish little smile. “As you can imagine, there isn’t exactly a surplus of art here. You look lovely, Isabella.”

Izzy swallows against a lump in her throat. Absurdly, she feels outnumbered, one-to-one. “I, yeah. Thanks.” She tries for a responding smile, maybe half-successful at it. “You have-... you have art classes here, I read.”

“You read up on me.” Her mother’s expression changes a little, opens up. She sits up a little straighter, then, and there’s a flash of still-white teeth in her smile, now. “You know about me. I would have thought you wouldn’t be allowed to know a thing.”

“I’m, um.” Izzy’s hands fold in her lap, and she rubs over the shredded white threads along a hole that’s worn over one thigh, the softness of a patch of fabric she’d sewn herself beneath. “I’m eighteen now, so. I get to pick what I know, more or less.”

“You’re eighteen?” Her mother’s surprise is genuine, and she glances sideways at the clock as though it will become a calendar, back to Izzy. “When did that happen?”

Why that question hurts, she doesn’t know - but it does. It’s not like Savannah Marcoset has anything to do here but remember, and yet-... she didn’t.

“About three weeks ago, actually,” Izzy says, and hears herself sounding embarrassed, like she should have not grown up at all, if that wasn’t what Savvie wanted, or expected. Like the turn of the Earth is her fault, something she did on purpose just to spite Savvie by stealing time.

“Oh. Well.” Savvie folds her hands with a soft rattle as the cuffs knock into the shiny, sealed tabletop. She leans over, and Izzy can see the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, now, the hint of them around her lips. Her jawline seems stronger, more carved, she is a statue version of a parent that Izzy remembers as a kind of terrifying whirlwind. Her hair is less overwhelming, the deep brown graying at the temples, pulled back simply against the nape of her neck. It isn’t so long, as it once was. Savvie pauses, waits for Izzy to look her in the eyes. “Happy birthday, Isabella.”

The name is wrong - it’s always been wrong - but Izzy smiles, anyway. “Thanks. Eighteen is a bit weird, it doesn’t feel any different than seventeen did, but-”

“My no-contact orders were signed here, in the US,” Savvie says, interrupting her, thinking this through. “So you, what, had to be eighteen to come see me? Have you wanted to before?” She leans forward, and Izzy leans back, feeling her back press into the chair behind her, letting her right hand drop to rub at the seam of her jeans on the outside of one thigh. Her heart beats harder. “Did he keep you from seeing me?”

He.

“No,” Izzy says, and her voice is thin at first, but she clears her throat and the second try is stronger. “No, he didn’t. He would have, if I’d have wanted to, before. I just didn’t ‘til now. We’re, um-... we’re doing an American holiday, more or less.”

Shit. She shouldn’t have said-

“‘We’?” Savvie’s expression brightens, with real interest now. Her eyes pin Izzy like a butterfly to a display case, jam tiny needles through her wings, hold her fast. “He’s here? Jax is here?”

“He’s not,” Izzy lies, smooth as silk, without hesitating. She’d planned for this question, prepared for this. She’d sat up til two in the morning prepping for the ways her mother might try to talk about her father, and more importantly, the ways that Izzy wouldn’t give her what she wanted. She’d just been hoping to hide it better for longer. “He didn’t come with m-me here. It’s just me, Mom, and some friends.”

Savvie clicks her tongue against her teeth. “He didn’t think I was too dangerous, for you to speak to?”

She can’t help her slight, sardonic laugh at that. “You’re in prison, Mom.” It feels weird, to hear herself say Mom out loud, as though that was ever what Savvie had been. She was four the last time she said Mommy to Savvie’s face, and even then it had been an apology Izzy can barely remember now, her own sense of a small voice saying, I’m sorry, Mommy, I won’t do it anymore, but she can’t remember what she’d done to get in trouble.

Breathe, probably.

“You’re in prison,” She repeats, and her heartbeat settles a little, reassuring herself with the words spoken out loud, made real. “You’re the least dangerous you’ve ever been, to us.”

Savvie sits back, less pleased now. “I was never dangerous. Did he tell you I was dangerous to you? I never was. That was a lie he made up, so they would help take you and your brother away from me. I only ever wanted us to be a family, Isabella.”

“Mom.” Izzy’s voice wavers, and Savvie might smile a little at the sound, but if she does, it’s because she sees the wrong reason for the waver, or… maybe she enjoys the annoyance, the anger, as much as she would fear. “We both know that’s not true, none of that is true.”

“I wanted a family,” Savvie says, in a low voice, not quite a whisper. Regretful, mournful. She trails a fingernail along the top of the table, and Izzy tenses at the scrape of it. Barely audible but it grates on her nerves nonetheless. She swallows, presses her lips together, tries not to watch it move.

Fails.

Savvie’s nails aren’t painted - in Izzy’s blurry remaining memories of her, Savvie’s nails are always painted colors - but they shine, perfectly filed edges moving, catching a hint of light.

“Your dad,” Savvie says, in that same mournful, grieving tone, “didn’t want you at all. Did you know that? He never did. He hated the very idea of you, and your brother. He thinks I don't know that he cried over the concept of you. No… you were never wanted by anyone but me, until he realized he could steal you to hurt me. He could always be cold that way. He took you and hoped I would-”

“Stop.” Izzy struggles to say it. Even now, with therapy a constant foundation of her life and a stronger one than her mother’s terrifying rage, it’s hard to make herself say the word. She has to fight to make it audible, but it’s still clearly surprising - Savvie goes silent, watching her with those unnerving wide blue eyes. “Please-... stop. I, I know how he felt. You can’t-... you can’t rewrite history, Mom. I know… I know how it was, or I know enough.”

“It’s the truth, Isabella.” Her mother’s expression is so earnestly sincere. Izzy licks at her lips, suddenly dry and chapped, and thinks that if there were a lie-detector test, her mother would pass it, stone-cold. No way to tell she didn’t believe her own words. She might, actually, believe the story as it leaves her mouth, believe it so utterly she can lie without even knowing she’s doing it. “That’s all I ever wanted to do, is have the chance to tell you the truth. But he got that no-contact order and made sure you would only ever know how he saw it.” Savvie smiles with wistful regret, every inch the mother mourning her lost children.

Izzy knows better.

Jamie, her little brother, fifteen and with no memory of his mother at all, might fall for this. She's a stranger to him. But Izzy remembers the hours locked alone in the dark, and the sound of her father screaming in pain.

She swallows trying not to think too much about that memory. “It’s not about-... there aren’t two sides, Mom. This isn't like any other divorce. You held him prisoner.” She’s falling into a trap, and she can feel it but she can’t stop herself. Her mother hasn’t tried to so much as reach for her - it wouldn’t be allowed, the guard would step forward if she did - but Izzy still feels like she has been pinned, claws sliding into her shoulders and a heavy weight holding her to her seat. A bird that didn’t see the threat in time to take flight. "You-... held us all-"

“Well, now he’s made sure I’m a prisoner, hasn’t he? Must be nice, to pin all your problems on the Big Bad Witch in prison who can no longer defend herself. But, of course, everything is always my fault.” Savvie shrugs as she cuts Izzy off, almost idly.

"Mom, he has-..." Izzy feels unmoored. Drifting, like this can't be real, this conversation. This can't be real. "You abducted him, you-"

"Everyone has problems, sweetie." Savvie's head tilts a little more, eyes moving over Izzy’s face with an awful, palpable weight. “Don't try to make it a competition." Something gentles, then. The hard planes of her mother's face soften. "You know, you look like him.”

Izzy warms, a little, at that. She shouldn't and she knows it, but still, she does. She smiles, slightly lopsided, and raises one hand to touch the silver rings in the shell of her left ear, two of them right next to each other, one for Jax and one for her brother Jamie. “I hope so,” she admits. “I’ve always wanted to.”

The moment of gentleness in her mother’s expression slips away, replaced by a brittle frigid chill that washes over Izzy, a wave that breaks against her.

Oh, no. I cared more about him than her. Even now, fourteen years on, she still shivers in an old fear.

“He is handsome,” Savvie says, tapping her fingernails again, scraping them along the table. The sound is starting to grate on Izzy’s nerves. “He always was, even in the earliest days. He never knew it, I don’t think. I tried to tell him.”

He didn’t want to hear it from you.

“He hears it enough now,” Izzy says, and her heart goes cold with dread as she realizes she’s nearly given away something much, much worse to say than accidentally admitting her dad came on the trip with her.

Damn it, Izzy, don't let her know about Kieran.

Savvie doesn’t seem to notice the clue. She just keeps tapping. “Do you play music, Isabella? I wondered if either of you would have talent, in the end.”

It’s an abrupt change of subject, and Izzy doesn’t see it for the trap it is.

“I play-... um. I can play some things,” Izzy hedges, shifting uncomfortably from the simple truth that she can play almost anything, if she hears it a couple of times, remembers note-for-note the songs on the radio or the forbidden ones she still hides in playlists buried in playlists, the soft strains of violin that draw her but she would never admit to. “I’m-... in a band, actually.”

Savvie’s eyes are back on hers, then, that unnerving total focus. “What do you play in that band? Is it a real band, or just noise?”

Izzy rubs at the back of her neck, flushing in embarrassment. “Um. I guess it’s about fifty-fifty noise and real. I play bass guitar, actually.”

She’d read somewhere that bass guitar was easy, and figured if she played that, no one would realize the music was inherent in her, demanding expression. She could say she wanted to be in the band because of her father, who had been in one once upon a time, too. She wouldn’t have to admit that the music didn’t come from Jax, but from Savvie’s blood in her veins. She could pretend, with the bass guitar, to be worse at it than she really was without ruining the songs.

Her mother snorts, derisive. “Anyone can play that,” She says, waving one hand in dismissal - but the other has to come with it, and it’s a reminder that, no matter how Izzy feels in the moment, there is no real danger here. “That hardly counts. Can you play a real instrument?”

“It is a real instrument.”

“Hardly.” Savvie looks disappointed, and it’s weird - she hasn’t seen her face-to-face since she was four, and she hasn’t said a word to her in that time, and still… the disappointment hurts, a little. “You weren’t allowed to do music, were you? He forbade you, because of me.”

“No, he absolutely didn’t.” It’s Izzy’s turn to lean forward, her hands closing into fists in her lap now, an old habit from childhood she’s mostly broken but it comes back, now, as her irritation rises in eternal defense of Jax. “He’s always supported whatever I wanted to do-”

“Because he doesn’t care enough to make sure you’re doing something worthwhile.” Her mother’s sigh cracks open a dark door inside her, it’s familiar even to her fading memories. It’s a sigh she knows from birth. Before Izzy can respond again, she changes the subject, deft as a dancer. “What are you doing for school, then? Are you going to go to college?”

Izzy blinks, thrown off track. “Um. Yes, I do plan on it, I’ll be going to university next autumn-”

“You’ve got the accent, too. Guess they’ve painted over everything they didn’t like, didn’t they?”

“Wh-what?” Her heart stops as her mother’s voice is sharp again. Her fists tighten, pressing down into her thighs until they nearly ache. “What’d you-”

“You look like him, dress like the dime-store version of him - honestly, Isabella, look at you, you look… grimy. You even talk like him. What is this, trying to look like the daughter he might have actually wanted? Is that it?”

Izzy swallows, sitting back again, thumping into the back of the chair. Someone nearby is crying, soft, muffled sobs. Someone else is whispering, in vicious intensity, in fury. The guards are impassive. There’s no sign they even hear Savvie speaking at all. “It’s just who I am-”

“No, it isn’t. I saw your name, Isabella Gallagher. You were born a Marcoset, but he was happy when he changed it, wasn’t he?” Savvie’s eyes won’t let her look away. She feels completely captured, the center of Savannah Marcoset’s world, the most terrifying place on Earth, somewhere Izzy has never once been. “I asked you a question, Isabella. He was happy to have you change your name, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.” She’s not sure why she answers. The anxious shivering inside of her is stronger than it should be. Her voice is a whisper, a rush of air with only a hint of sound. “But it was-... my idea-”

“I’m sure he let you think that. I feel sorry for you, you know. I really do. He must care for James so much more than he does you, don’t you think? My beautiful son wasn’t old enough to even speak to me, but you… you’re a reminder, aren’t you? Oh…" Savvie's lips purse, in a sort of smug smile. "Oh, you are. God, what torture it must be for him to be around you."

She’s supposed to be stupid. Izzy has watched all the documentaries that mention the case, she read an awful unauthorized true crime book she found in a thrift shop once that just had a little teensy chapter on Savvie buried between other femme fatales. She’s done her research, to understand the woman she was going to meet as best she could.

Savannah Marcoset is supposed to be… well, stupid.

Izzy wasn’t prepared for cunning not being the same thing as smart. And she didn’t think through what eleven years in prison, with almost nothing to do but think, and no chance of leaving ever for the rest of her life, might do to hone her mother’s ability to wound. That Savvie might have taken a blunt instrument and whittled it into a blade.

“I-I’m not-”

“You are.” Savvie hums, and the tapping of her nails is going to drive Izzy up the fucking wall. “Even just being alive, you are. And your hair, well…” Savvie’s eyes go up to Izzy’s hair, the same deep chocolate brown as Savannah’s own, a shock of curly brown that falls over her forehead and against one side, nearly shaved on the other side and along the back. “You can cut it, but it’s still my hair. You walk around a living reminder of what he stole from me, just to hurt me, what he didn’t even want. You were never wanted, Isabella. That’s why your birth is part of my crimes, don’t you think? You and James both. You’re a crime I committed against him, right?”

“A crime-” Her voice cracks, but if she sounds uncertain, it’s only her nerves, her inability to stand up for herself sometimes. It’s not fear. She is not afraid of this woman, and she doesn’t believe her.

Okay, a little afraid.

But she doesn’t believe her, she doesn’t. She knows better, because she knows how hard her father has worked to build the life around her, the one she’s living now. She knows how many times he has held her after nightmares - hers and his both. She knows he could have left her and James behind, but he didn’t.

Every chance he had to set them down, he chose to hold them instead.

Most of all, she knows the way her father has carefully, day by day and year by year, taught her that love is not the same thing as danger.

Her shoulders square, and her back straightens. “You keep saying that, b-but… there’s a difference between not wanting someone who will be hurt to, to be there to be hurt, and caring about someone. There’s-... you can’t see the difference, is all, but I can. I know-” She swallows. “I know how it looks like when he loves someone, and you don’t.”

“Hm.” Savvie’s fascination flags, a little, at that. Her stare is unnerving, unblinking, but Izzy feels the anger coming off of her, hidden and still plain as day. “Changing the subject, I see. So much of you is just a walking reminder. You’re just a tragedy on two legs, aren’t you, Isabella?”

Part of Izzy thinks wryly, how long ago did you think of that and how long have you been waiting for someone to say it to? but the rest of her can’t find the breath to say it out loud. “You can’t make my life worse than it is, Mom. Not anymore. I didn’t come h-here for this, I came here for-”

I came here to see if you could see me, even now, or only a reflection of what you can’t have. I guess I have my answer.

Savvie hasn’t stopped talking. “What of you is even yourself, Isabella? Are you just… trying not to be me? Do you not want him to think of me?” Her smile widens. Flash of teeth. For a second, just one brief second, Izzy sees fangs. “Oh, sweetie. You can’t ever change that, no matter what you do. I was important. I ruined his life, remember? There was a whole court case about it. Two, really. It’s why I’m here. Because I’m the Big Bad Wolf, or so I’m told.” She snorts. “You should have worn red, Isabella. Or something.”

“Or something,” Izzy whispers, looking down at her hands, at her knuckles gone white, her fists. The round clock is ticking on the wall, and it’s only an hour. She told herself she could last for an hour, when she walked in here. She told herself she could make it, and she would.

“Isabella-”

“You didn’t, by the way.” Where the words come from, she’s not sure. But they come out sure, and strong. "You didn't ruin his life. It’s better, it’s good.”

“Oh? Is it?” Savvie feigns disinterest, but she’s so bright and sparkling, pulling Izzy in. “What about it is so good, Isabella? What does my husband do, in his whole new life without me? What can he do? Show me how I’m wrong.” Savvie’s presence is heavy, it takes up too much space, feels like Izzy is pressed against the wall, suffocating. How did they live like this, surrounded by her on all sides, all the time? How had Jax ever survived so long alone with her?

Her voice trembles more than she wants it to when she speaks. “What?”

“You say I’m wrong - about him, about you.” Savvie is a shark, and Izzy is blood in the water. She seems bigger, suddenly, or maybe Izzy is smaller. Younger. Has too much hair for her age and a frilly dress she hates and she has to be good, and so quiet, and do exactly what she is told or her father will be hurt, and it will be her fault, because it’s always, always her fault-

Savvie’s voice is not quite a whisper. “Tell me, Isabella, all these things I am so wrong about. Even if you believe his side of the story, he’s all I thought about, the only thing that mattered, right? So I know him better than anyone else, don’t I? And you’re mine. I know everything about you, without even trying."

“You don’t-... know anything about me.” Izzy knows she’s getting quieter, and knows as she retreats, her mother presses forward, thrilled to play a game she hasn’t played in… in eleven years, more or less. “And you don’t know a single thing about him.”

“I know every fucking scar on his body.” Izzy’s stomach flips, but Savvie is leaning forward again, and the blue of her eyes is overtaking everything else around them. Plain beige walls and plain table and plain bars over plain windows can’t compete. The gray of everyone’s prison outfits, her own black-and-slightly-less-black, none of it is a good enough distraction, enough to tear her away. “That’s what I know. You’re sweet, Isabella, and it’s lovely of you to try and be the dutiful little daughter all over again. But I know things you don’t, I always have. I know I still do. He hasn’t told you half of it, and he won’t.”

It’s a strike, a feint and then a jab, and if this were a real fight Izzy would be ready for it, but words are so much harder to defend against. “I was a little kid, I didn’t need to know it, I didn’t want to. I don’t need to know-”

“You had colic, for a month or so.” Savvie cuts her off, raising her voice a little. One of the guards behind her shifts, might look at them from behind the dark of his glasses at the volume. “When you were little. Cried like a banshee, day and night, no reason. I could hear you in my practice room. Still think you know everything?”

“This isn’t-... I don’t know why you’re telling me this."

“I had my responsibilities, sweetie. I mean, I was a new mother, but I was still a person. I didn’t need to change all that much, really. Jax spent half his time trying to keep me away from you, your own mother, and the other half trying to shut you up.”

“You could be-... he said you were up-upset, sometimes, um, you c-could be-”

“Violent? Never. I was tired, maybe - we both were. Jax has never slept well."

Because of you.

"Oh, here we go. One of my favorites of his little insults… does he say I was unstable? I’m sure I’ve heard it all. Probably in court, no less, he very much enjoyed getting on stage to put on his little show. Taking the jury around and around in circles acting like I never did anything kind for you.” Her eyes move back to Izzy’s hair, shaking her head slightly, one lip curling upward in a sneer. “I certainly would have been kind enough not to let you make yourself look like that.”

“Mom-”

“Shut up, Isabella. I am talking to you, and I am not done yet.”

Izzy’s mouth snaps shut, teeth clicking together, her nails digging into her palms. Her eyes flicker to the guard, trying to catch him, but no, she’s going to last the whole hour, she promised herself she could do it, she promised.

Besides, it's… sort of harder than she thought, to look away when Savvie is talking.

“We ended up getting my, well, Isaac’s servant Hannah to help with you. Because of the colic. He asked for her, really. I was prepared to bring in someone else, but Jax had his demands, and when he really wanted something, well.” She shrugs, calmly, casually. She is talking about a reality that never existed, moving all the pieces around until the past suits her and not the court documents. Until her story is the one circling Izzy’s head, and not the story she knows has to actually be true. “How could I refuse?”

“He asked-... but when he wanted-”

“What did I just say?”

“Mom, I need to-”

“Let. Me. Finish.”

“N-No, I don’t want to hear this-”

“You know what he started to do? Once we had Hannah around, a few days a week? When the steward began to come as well? Do you know what the number one change your father made to his life was, once that happened?”

“Mom, please. Please don’t do this.” Her voice is nearly gone, and Savvie leaps.

“He started getting the hell away from you.” Savvie throws her head back and laughs, loud enough to make people look over at them. Izzy wonders, face burning in embarrassment, what they see. Do they know who Savvie is? Is she really famous, here, like Izzy thinks she is? Does everyone know they’re watching Savannah Marcoset push her daughter under the water and watch her struggle to breathe?

But… the words hurt. He got the hell away from you. “He did-... he did what?”

“Fucking escaped you. He thinks I didn’t notice. Everyone always thinks I don’t notice, didn’t know things. Your father - my Jax - thinks I’m a fucking idiot, I get that now. But I saw that, him handing you off to Hannah or the steward and get as far away from you as he could without-” Savvie lifts her hands to tap at the side of her neck with a slight, almost dreamy smile. “Everyone says I’m the bad mom, the bad parent, but I’m not the only one who shoved you aside every chance I got.” Savvie hums, almost idly. She’s playing, Izzy thinks dimly. Cat with a ball of yarn. Somehow the words hurt a little less when the realization comes. “That’s the thing, though, isn’t it, Bella-”

“Izzy,” She whispers, but her mother doesn’t hear her, or doesn’t care.

“You know you are, fundamentally, his fucking nightmare. Your father sat up there before judge and jury and told everyone that I only had you so I could control him just a little bit more. Did you see that, in the documentaries you watched? Did you hear about it? Did he tell you that you only existed to be a weapon, that you're just a pretty little tool in my toolbox?"

She doesn’t want to answer any of those questions, and keeps her eyes down, focuses on the knuckles of her hands. How they sit over her lap so nicely, if you ignore that they are fists. Her face still burns bright red, and her eyes are hot with tears she blinks rapidly away before her mother can see them fall.

“He’ll say I didn’t love you.” Savvie’s expression is chilled, disdainful. “But your father had whole days he could barely stand to touch you. He had days he couldn’t even look at you. You ran around after him begging for, what, for someone to pat you on the head and say you were good just as you are? No wonder he couldn’t give you that.”

“He did give me that, over and over-... how you’re saying it isn’t how it happened, you’re not remembering what actually happened, Mom-”

“I think, deep down, you know it’s because no matter what you do with your hair, or your clothes, he is always going to look at you and see me. That’s the fear, isn’t it? That you're me, or you will be. That’s why you’re here, why you flew all the way across the fucking Atlantic to pay Mommy a visit. You wanted to see how much of you is me. How much of me is in you. How much of a fuck he can even give, in the end, for my daughter." She laughs again, and Izzy flinches. "He must hate you, deep down, and part of you knows it. Am I right?”

Izzy can’t answer at first, and her mother clicks her tongue, falsely sympathetic.

“Oh, sweetie. It’s okay. I can’t do a fucking thing to you, or him, or anyone now. But I’m glad you came to see me. I'm glad to see that you're just the same, easy to break as ever. You'll end up with exactly the love you deserve, Bella. Won't you?"

Izzy's eyes are blurred, struggling to focus. What rises in her isn’t fear, or doubt, or even sadness. It’s anger, the same simmering slow burn that that comes whenever someone tries to push her and her father down, when they have to force their way back up. "N-no-"

"Yes. You'll get what you were born for, one way or another. Don't worry, sweetie. You're not like me at all. You're just… a mirror, and the reflection isn't even a good one." Savvie laughs, cold and cruel, delighting in the pain on her daughter's face. "Here I was worried you’d be angry, but I don’t think you can be. Is that too much like me, too?”

“No, I’m… I get a-angry sometimes, I can… it’s not like that-”

“Not like what? Speak up, Bella. Stop mumbling, you were always a mumbler. Most children shout, you know.”

“Most children don’t get locked in closets if they do.” Izzy is still whispering at the start, but the words come more strongly as she works her way through them, eyelashes heavy with tears she tries to pretend don’t exist. “Most-... most kids can throw a fit without their dad getting hurt, and most kids get to leave the h-house sometimes, and if I-... if he couldn’t-... it was because of you, not because of m-me.”

“Tell yourself that.”

“I do. I do tell myself that. I only have to tell myself that because of you, and you-... you just wanted to be his whole life and the only thing in it and you’re n-not, and this isn’t even about hurting me, is it? All of this-... telling me about, about him-...”

She can remember it, can’t she? Faint traces remain, of asking for Jax and being told by her Aunt Hannah that he needed some time, of asking and having her Papa Stewart give her a hug instead, of asking and asking and then learning not to ask…

“You aren’t telling me this to hurt me. You’re telling me this to hurt him.” Izzy raises her eyes, aware of the bright red blotches on her cheeks, aware of the tear tracks, aware of her hands in fists and the zinging anger in her that simmers underneath her fear. “You want me to take this out into the-... into the world, back to Dad, and tell him what you said because it’ll hurt him to hear that you said it, and you’ve been in prison for eleven years and missed most of my life and nearly all of my little brother’s - who you haven’t asked me a single fucking question about, by the w-way - and all you can think about, even now, is the… the one who got away from you.”

The balance shifts, some of the glittering brightness fades from Savvie’s eyes, the fascinated sadism seeps out of her expression. “Isabella-”

“Izzy. I’m called Izzy. And you know that, because you’ve known it ever since the trial. And maybe I was-... was hard, for him, when I was a baby and I can’t fix that or make it any better, it’s all already happened and I’ve had to learn not to feel guilty about it since I was four years old, but of the two of you, only one has ever bothered to give any solitary fucks about who I am! I came here to see if you could-... if you could change, or rethink, or even just, just feel something about me, and all you can feel is the parts of me that are him!”

“Isabella-”

“You shut up! You do it, now, and you listen to what I have to say! I was sc-scared, all the time, because of you, not him. He was the one who came to let me out, and he was the one who held me when I was scared, and even if he didn’t want to be near me, he still tried! You don’t-... you don’t get to change the story and make it not what it was, Mom, I know what it was.”

“You know what he told you it was.”

“No. I know what it actually really was. There is no other alternative world where you’re the good guy, or better than he was! Maybe I was a hard baby to l-love, because of whose baby I am, and I-I carry that forever… that I'm not the kid he would've wanted to have... but he tried, and if he didn’t love me at first, at least he tried until he learned how! But… but I know he did. I know he loved me, and Jamie, so much that he did the scariest thing he could imagine by running with us and having to hope we could make it to Grandpa before you could catch us again. I think you don’t know him at all, and you’re going to die in prison still not knowing, and that’s why you’re doing this now. It is killing you that you could lock us up and put that thing on his neck and keep us trapped and you still don’t know any of us at all.”

“I made every single scar-”

“Scars aren’t who someone is! They’re just marks of you being shitty to him! They don’t say who he is now, or how his mind works, or how fucking brilliant he is at being a dad! You know some marks on his skin, but I know who he is when he’s safe, and strong, and happy, and you will never know that man. You won’t ever know what he looks like really in love, and I do, and it is absolutely nothing like he looked around you!"

Her eyes flare. “Bella, what are you talking about, in love? With who? Who would-”

“I came here to see if-... if any part of me really is you, and it’s not, because all the parts of me that matter are from him and Grandpa and Papa Stewart and Nana and my aunties and none of the important bits are yours at all! No one loves you, because you can’t love anyone, but I can, and he can, and Jamie can. You are never ever going to see him again… and I’m going to walk out that door and give him a fucking hug."

She shoves her chair back, making a metallic screech along the floor that makes her mother wince, adrenaline pumping through her veins. It’s a kind of fight, this, she’d been pinned to the mat and fought her way back to standing in the end.

“I am proud of him, for all he’s done to make an even better life for Jamie and me, and I am proud of him for finding Kieran, after you - and Kie’s a better bonus dad by a million years than you ever were a mom - and… and he’s proud of me. He’s proud of the person I am and not just the person he thought I was supposed to be. That’s more important than, than anything, is that he and I-... we can be proud of each other, and you can’t be proud of anything but yourself.”

Savvie looks startled, now, struggling to regain the surety she’d felt before. She can’t stand or the guard will come, and so she stays seated, and looks up at Izzy, no taller than her father but wiry still. “I think we’re done here,” Savvie says coldly. “You’re clearly too swept up in your father to be worth talking to.”

“Maybe,” Izzy shrugs, shoves her hands in her hoodie pockets, finds the comfortable weight of her phone, switched off for during the visit like the guards had asked. Wonders if her dad, sitting in the rental in the parking lot, has started pacing yet. If he’s watching the clock, waiting for her text to come through, bouncing his foot like he does sometimes. If he’s pretending to read or texting Kieran or if he’s just staring at the squat building that stretches wide on either side, waiting for her to come out. “Did I disappoint you, then? How I am, just me?”

“Oh, sweetie.” Savvie shakes her head, ruefully. Her expression shifts into mournfulness, just a few seconds too late for it to be convincing. “I had high hopes for you. But he ruined you, in the end. Absolutely ruined you.”

“That’s… that’s probably good. I don’t think I’ll come back, Mom. But I might-... I might write a letter.” Why she throws the offer out, she doesn’t know, only… only some part of her will always, always want to keep hoping that this will change.

Savvie’s eyebrows raise. “I might answer it. Can you fix your hair, if you ever come again? And wear something… nicer than this?”

Izzy blinks, rolling her eyes back to look up at her hairline, down to look at her shirt and jeans, and then back to her mother. “Why? Because it’s shorter than you want it to be? Because you don’t like my clothes?”

“Because you look like a lesbian, Isabella.”

Izzy blinks, too thrown to find the words at first, and then she shrugs, rubbing her thumb along the side of her phone in her pocket, her palms aching where her nails had dug in so deeply, over very old scars. She can’t quite help her smile. “Oh. Well, fuck, Mom, my girlfriend will be shocked when she hears you feel that way.”

“Your what?”

Izzy turns and walks away, past the other tables with crying or hurting people, or people who look like they want very badly to hug and can’t, and she doesn’t look back.

The door clangs open and slams shut behind her, the hallway stretching out ahead, and she walks down two sets of stairs and around a corner before she sees the big heavy doors that lead out into the world, the huge parking lot warmed by sunlight with no trees to break the glare of it. She gives the guards manning the checkpoint a little wave of one hand, pushing the door open, and moves into the glaring, brilliant light, turning to face the corner where her father has been waiting by the rental.

He’s definitely been pacing.

She smiles and heads towards him, giving him a big wave. He’s moving towards her before her hand is even fully in the air.

If her mother’s words are designed to shatter, her father’s love - starting with his desperate attempts to protect her, his whispered be brave for me, Izzy as they boarded a train, written across every single day of her life - is a foundation too strong to be broken.

Her mother, Izzy thinks, can’t understand love like that.

But Izzy does.

And it's more than enough.

Always.

---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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Sparkshortstravaganza! (Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Well this was a needed kick in the pants. When I first heard of the Sparkshorts program I was excited. As a kid I loved PIxar, as an adult I love pixar and as an old man dealing with the loss of his partner floating away in my balloon house, i’ll still love pixar. So the idea of a program focused on giving new fresh talent the room to do whatever they wanted and make content that would be on Disney Plus, a platform BADLY bereft of original animation? It was a dream come true and the first one I saw Kitbull is easily a masterpiece and something that I can vividly recall every part of to this day, which for my terrible short term memory recalling EVERYTHING is a rare feat few works have achived. But given I have a REALLY bad habit of letting things I want to watch sit there if I don’t jump on them immediately.. I let it sit there and didn’t touch any of the shorts and mostly forgot about the program until now. Until Kev, my patron and the only person paying for reviews at the moment, though others are more than welcome wink wonk, just decided what the heck and to test out comissioning shorts picked these ones because why not. And given I had been dragging my feet and reading the descriptions found creative and suprisingly heavy premises... I was fully on board And better late than never because along with Soul this program has EASILY restored my faith in the company after Onward really disapointed. Granted they’ve done worse, while there are pixar films I haven’t seen I need to like Coco or Cars 3, I’ve vowed NEVER to watch Cars 2 unless I have to and that vow has served me well so far. The shorts here are as a whole beautifully animated, have a ton of wonderful concepts and even the two weaker ones are still gorgeous to look at and a decent watch regardless and both come from a very well meaning place with a very well meant message. So yeah i’m thankful for this comission and to show you why let’s go through every Sparkshorts so far and see why their so awesome.. after some background of course.

Sparkshorts, for the uniniated, is a program by pixar where animators are given six months and a limited budget to create a film based on personal experince. The program was designed to test out new ways of animating, directing and creating and to find a creative “spark” in it’s employees. Thus each film feels unique, has it’s own style.. and is utterly charming. I’ll be looking at them chronologically as while this wasn’t my watch order, I feel it’s a bit neater that way. I’ve already taken long enough to get to watching these, let’s open these films up and see what makes them tick shall we?

Purl: An Adorable Yarn Ball Vs Toxic Masculinity Purl.. was better the more I thought about it. The first short released, it DOES have a good message and killer animation. The film takes place at B.R.O., a dude broey brockerage firm that’s painfully relasitic both in how broey it is and in how it looks. That’s to contrast our heroine: Purl, an adorable ball of yarn who just wants to be accepted but is instead ignored by the rest of the company till she changes herself up, donning a suit like her co workers she badly wants to fit in with and adopting their wolf of wallstreet esque douchebaggery. She finally gets accepted.. but ends up shedding her new self to help another Yarn Ball starting up. Director Kristen Lester drew from personal experince, starting work at animation in a mostly male dominated workplace and thus having to adapt and only letting the femine side she’d repressed out when she moved to working at pixar, which had more female employees. The film DOES have a good message about toxic workplaces and toxic masulinty and learning the personal story did raise it a few notches as it made it clear to me that what SEEMED like an over exageration.. was probably just a light exageration given the kind of bro antics we’ve heard about at companies like Ubisoft. So while I didn’t like the film much at first honestly.. it’s over the top because it NEEDS to be because even though it’s 2021.. some idiots STILL don’t get it and kids are better off learning it now so it’ll hopefully stick when their entering the workforce. So we’ll get more people like perl willing to make a change and stick up for those like her and less dude bros. Still a decent and clever short with Perl’s bro form looking really neat and the animation on her in general is really fucking gorgeous. All in all not the best of these but still pretty good and while a bit thick on the message.. it kinda has to be.

Smash And Grab: A Jaunty Ride to Freedom

This was a really fun one. Directed by Brian Larson and inspried by his need for a break from routine this follows two robots, the titular smash and grab who are designed to well.. smash and grab coal-like energy things for a train and have for years and years. The two long to high five, but can’t because their hooked to tubes so they can’t escape. But one day Smash looks out the window and not only sees fellow robots living a better life.. but a way to power him and his buddy/love intrest? I mean bromance or romance, either way it works. Point is our heroes escape, and have to fight security. It’s just a really damn fun and creative movie. While robots wanting a better life isn’t new, the crisp art deco animation, breakneck pace, fun gags and heartwearming relationship between the two bots is just charming as hell. It’s just a fun ride the whole way through with a lot of heart and creativity with the two’s way they throw coal to one another used to take out the guards, and all together just some really good set pieces. Easily one of my faviorites here and that’s a high water mark to pass.

Kitbull: Tiny Orphan Kitty + Big Abused Doggo = Best Friends

As I said this is the only one of these I saw before today and as I said it’s stuck with me. I love dogs. I have one of my own named Yoshi whose just a sweet boy. So i’ve always loved ALL DOGS.. and was thus horrified years ago when I learned about the stigma Bulldogs get. Seen as “agressive’ and “Mean’ and victious.. when really a lot of them, including my grandpa’s own pitbull when I was little, are just loveable as any other dogs. And having also known a former fighting dog my friend owned, if a much smaller min pin rather than a pitbull, who by the time I met him had become the sweetest dog you’d ever meet.. yeah.. don’t mistreat a dog just because some assholes force it to fight to the death because their sick, horrible, ghastly human beings.. if they can even be CALLED human beings after doing that to these poor animals. My point is it’s nice to have a short about such a needed subject. Director Rosana Sullivan actually had the idea for the short for years and intended to do it as a side project, but when the program cropped up she moved it to pixar and the result is one of the most popular and easily one of the best of an already bright bunch, brought on by her love of animals and working in a shelter. It’s also one of Pixar’s first 2d animated projects and proves their just as good at that as cgi. It’s the touching story of a kitty whose alone in the world and initally mistrustful and hissy at a big dog she finds and is naturally scared of.. until she grows to bond with the dog, realizing much like a LOT of fucking people need to that pitbulls.. are just dogs and often victims of circumstance and the poor, sweet pooch who just wants his owner to love him.. is instead thrown into a fighting pit, nearly killed and forced to make a daring escape with their new forever friends help. It’s through this wonderful, heartrending friendship that the dog finds freedom and the cat.. finds them both a home, no longer running from people but instead making sure they both get a person. It’s often brutal at times, with the scene of the dog being forced to fight being one of the most striking: while we thankfully don’t see the action, we HEAR IT, as does the poor kitty, and we see the aftermath: a friendly harmless dog thrown out into the cold just because it dosen’t WANT to fight. It’s just really heartrending stuff that makes the happy ending all the better. It’s also gorgeiously animated which I mentioned but i’ll say it again; the animation here is GOREGOUS, unqiue and stunning. Go watch this if you haven’t.

Float: This is Why Krakoa Exists

This.. has easily been the hardest to review of the bunch. While ALL of these stories are very personal, very inclusive and very intresting, this one.. is a bit rougher than most of them and hits REALLY close to home. See this one was built out of director Bobby Rubio’s experinces raising his son who has autisim.

It’s about a dad who discovers his infant son can float... and thus gets stares of fear or judgment from eveyrone around him slowly getting broken down by this. So he makes a HORRIBLE judgment call and rather than just accept some people are assholes, weighs his son’s backpack down with stones despite him hating it then drags him away when he ends up floating off, before screaming at the poor kid WHY CAN’T YOU BE DIFFRENT.. He DOES instantly regret this and the ending is genuinely touching as the father finally accepts his son is different and throws him into the air while on a swing, letting his son soar as he always should’ve. It is a beautifully animated and well meant film and the filipino representation is truly great: Rubio originally was going to have the characters as white but his fellow animators convinced him to go for represntation and be true to himself and honestly in a time when disney itself has had to be fought to get queer representation most of the time, it’s nice that pixar at least is a part of it that throughly encourages representation and will gladly put diversity and representation over any bullshit “risk factors”. That being said.. while this was a decent short with a very well intentioned message and it clearly connected with a lot of people.. it wasn’t for me and I say this as someone who has autisim. As someone who has worn down people’s patince and been starred at by a freak for something I was way too young to properly deal with. I’ve been in this Kid’s shoes.

And that’s the problem: The metaphor dosen’t really work for me. While auitism CAN have some benifits and I wouldn’t be any other way i’d be lying if I said it was easy having trouble commuincating, constnatly misreading people, constnatly worrying if someone’s going to like you, and hyperfocusing on a problem instead of being able to set it and forget it for a bit to my own detriment. There’s other problems and not ALL of my issues come from anxiety disorder: I also have anxiety and depression. They just bleed badly INTO said autisim sometimes, as it’s hard to effectively combat anxiety sometimes when your mind won’t let you.

What i’m saying is... there aren’t any FAULTS in his powers. See i’m a fan of x-men, so I can only see this boy as a mutant, and yes I know they usually manfifest at puberty but there have been exceptions so don’t at me.. and one of them who has no real downsides other than the unfair stigma of being a mutant. He’s more like storm, who can control the elements and whose power only enhances her life nad lesss like say Rogue, who looks normal.. but can’t touch anyone without knocking them out at best or horribly abosrbing them into her head at worst. There’s no downside other than the fact people judge him and his dad is a dick about it. And the dad part is hard because I get what Rubio is going for: parents make mistakes, parents mess up and their only human even if they should embrace their kids anyway. That’s a good message and one I support.. I just think Rubio was way TOO hard on himself and thus made his stand in into an unlikeable asshole, one whose more concerned with how everyone ELSE thinks and does the horribly abusive action of basically tying his son’s wings down so he can’t fly. He mans well, it’s so his son dosen’t float off.. but instead of finding a way to help him and work with him on it.. he just stuffs rocks in his back and forces the kid to be miserable so other people can be happy. It just goes way too far in the other direction to work. As I said I think it’s the guy being too hard on himself, manifesting his worst moments with his kids and his biggest regrets and making himself into a very hard to like character because he has trouble forgviing himself for how he acted. So I want to say if you ever read this bobby while I wasn’t hte biggest fan of your film.. I do wholly support you and your son.. and the fact you made an entire FILM just to show your sturggle and show people there not alone was a beautiful act. You are not a bad person , we all make mistakes and we’re all just human. You are a good man Bobby Rubio. I may of not liked your metaphor... but your message is beautiful.

Wind: Immigration by Way of Rocket Science

Thankfully moving on.. this one is tied with Kitbull for my faviorite. It has a truly intriguing premise, a great metaphor, stunning animation, and is just really moving, gripping and fun to watch. This one was by Edwin Chang, and as is usualy by now, it was built on personal experince.. but not his. It was built on the fact his father was an immigrant who had to leave his mother, Chang’s grandmother, behind to a better life. She rejoined them eventually but it left an impact on his father and thus serves as the core of this story. And honestly knowing that only STRENGTHENS an already impresssive sci fi short. It’s the story of a boy, apparently named Ellis so i’ll use that, and his grandmother who live in a bizzare, hauntingly beautifuly stygian sinkhole that has floating rocks and debris. The two spend their day farming potatoes and grabbing whatever they can to hopefully make their way out. But it becomes clear to young Ellis after they find a plane his grandmother wants HIM to go alone and escape and is willing to sacrifice herself.. and ends up having to trick the boy into thinking sh’es going along in order to get him to do what he needs to surivive and thrive. It’s a truly gut wrenching story as even when she seems to have found a way for them both to leave.. it’s very clear she’s simply training him with all the welding tools and what not so he has skills to make it out there on his own in the unknown. So he can live without her.. but more importantly.. so he CAN LIVE. Away from the darkness, not having to scrape and to surivive and hopefully find something better out there. While the old parental figure sacrifciing thsmelves so the youngun can start hteir journey isn’t new.. it’s the unique, beautiful and haunting setting and the emotoin, conveyed only through the utterly beautiful animation that make this story feel fresh, along with it’s great metaphor. This short is just haunting, beauitful and really damn sad, and I only dont’ have all that much to say because it’s all in the visuals. The only thing I have left is like all of these really, watch it. But especailly this one.

Loop: Enough Said

This is part of the reason I didn’t like Float all that much. Loop is just.. way better at conveying the experinces of having auitism. While Renee is a more severe case than me I can relate to what kicks off the film: Renee, usually paired with an adult at the camp she at, is forcibley paired with a chatty boy named Marcus. While Marcus is eager to go home and has no idea how to interact with the two the two genuinely bond, with Marcus slowly getting into Renee’s world. The key scene for this and the one that clinches the film is Renee waving her hands over the reeeds in the water, throughly enjoying it with marcus not getting it.. till he tries himself. Director Erica Milsom, whose worked with autistic children and picked this medium entriely because i’ts perfect for a non verbal character and is one that can tackle heavy issues like this in a way to help people understan, really wanted to counter most depections of severe autisim, paticuarlly sensory issues. While we see the good in them instead of JUST her freaking out or being overwhelemed: how her sounds and the things she feels truly relax her and how she really DOES enjoy nature and is perfectly at home there. It’s just a beautiful way to show this disablility is not ALL bad, as many works tend to focus soley on the drawbacks. While I had my issues with Float part of it was it had too much good.. but Loop is superior at this simply because it shows both with unflinching honesty: The beauty of something that calms and relaxes your brain or a touch or sensation that just FEEELS really good, things that while again i’m not on the same level as Renee.. I can still fully relate to. But what puts it over float besides not having a messy metaphor is it DOES show the issues that come with it.. but does so WELL and with nuance. It shows how isolating autisim can be, especially for someone like Renee who can’t talk, how people are sometimes freaked out by you and don’t know how to interact with you and how adults can MEAN WELL, and the counsler setting them off was a good idea in the end... but can also be misguided and not fully know how to handle you without overwhelming you. It shows just how bad a panic attack can be, how you can just.. shut down and drive away. It was easily the sequence that hit the hartest and resonated the most as I’ve had those, and i’ve just shut down with no one able to reach me.. and it makes it all the more touching as Marcus eventually realizes how to handle things, and gives her space despite the setting son and the peril of being stranded.. because he realizes she needs it and offers to simply be there when she’s ready. It’s a touching, wonderful gesture, capped by him giving her a reed.. and the two heading home finally udnerstanding one another.This one is very close to wind in my heart and I think I found even more love for it writing this review and realizing just how much it hit me. And that ain’t bad.

Out: Be Proud of Who You Are.. with the help of a gay cosmic space cat

Speaking of hitting close to home and really resonating with me, we have Pixar’s first short with a gay main character, with his sexuality being the center of this. And as a bi person who had struggle accepting his sexuality let alone telling anyone, even when you know someoen will likely accept you.. this naturally hit hard. I took some time to realize I was bi, and when I did I was terrified of telling my mom, despite her being loving, supportive and just wonderful, same with my brother. Both fully accepted me as I figured and had no issue with it, esepcially sine my romantic history is nearly non existant anyways, but I related to our hero Greg’s fears of coming out to his parents despite them being utterly wonderful, well meaning people. It’s hard to come out, it’s hard to admit that about yourself, and it’s hard knowing you may not be accepted or things may change. I had an even harder time coming out to my dad, who I fully expected being a trump supporter and having said “if gay marriage is leagal I should be able to marry my cat”, to not support me and to loose him.. and was proud and suprised when nope, he was utterly supportive and happy for me.. if a bit awkward with the “be careful with sex” advice.. to someone whose had none and may never will due to being awkward as shit. But he meant well and the point is I really related to this, and it’s easily one of the best coming out stories of this kind, tied handily with Schitt’s Creek’s episode about Patrick coming out to his parents that dealt with the same theme. And naturally given the nature of these shorts it was a story close to Stephen Clay Hunter’s heart, as he group up a gay nerd in the 80′s a time when homophobia was even worse and representation was near non-existent. So when given the shot he wanted to make something for a young him, something they can look at and point to and tha’ts me. And the behind the scenes short for this one sold just how... big this felt for him. To draw two men in love and embrcing, to see guys mo capping that. To see someone LIKE him on screen. It shows just how important representation is and how dumb it is it took 20 goddamn years at pixar for them to get gay.

The short itsel is delightful as we open with a gay space cat and dog appearing in a rainbow. The Cat and Dog are watching Greg, a nice young man whose moving out of his small town with his boyfriend Manuel.. only to panic when his parents who he hasn’t come out to show up to help move and try and hide the one photo he has of them. And despite Manuel seeing it as a very easy thing to do to come out.. it’s not for Greg. He knows it’s hard and a scene of him practicing shows the poor guy breaking down at the thought of telling them despite getting every indicatio their nice people. It’s then the whole Space Cat thing comes in as the cat enchanted Greg’s dog’s collar, so when greg puts it on as a jest, it’s a body swap! So naturally we get tons of REALLY well animated shenanigans as Greg has to get his body back. Seriously the animation here is gorgeous with director Hunter choosing the painted on , impercet style to give it a storybook feel which fits the story perfectly.. seriously if Disney hasn’t made a story book of this do so.. and if they won’t someone on etsy do it because Etsy is apparently where the merch companies should be making happens.

The point is it’s fun, furious and leads to some great gags.. and then we get the emotional punch to the godnand as Greg bites his mom’s hand in order to prevent her finding a photo of him and his boyfriend. He instnatly regrets it, and breaking the photo in the process and goes to comfort her.. and we get easily the most emotinal, most beautiful part of it as Greg finds out his mom is hurt as she can clearly tell he’s keeping her at arms length and dosen’t want to loose him.. and she’s known all along he was gay.. just like the Schitts Creek example it’s clear she’s hurt a bit her son is scared to tell her but just wants him to be happy. So with a brilliant use of a squeaky toy greg switches back.. and comes out, with his dad warmly hugging miguel when he introduces himn and the space dog crying. Just a beautiful, charming, fun, and gorgeously animated short with some badly needed representation.

Also... one last note. This isn’t related to the short.. but Disney, who once again proves they can’t be progressive without stabbing themselves in the foot and no I will not stop giving out about this. This time’s especailly bad as while Out was heavily promoted.. the descripton DOSEN’T mention it having Pixar’s first gay lead and goes out of it’s way to hide Greg being gay despite the fact the short dosen’t and his being in the closet is the whole conflict of the short. And the not mnentiong the first gay lead thing is noticable because Loop DID rightly point out it was their first non verbal proganist. You can’t.. brag about being progressive about one thing and then try to hide your being progressive about another you idiots. Plus the “pleasing the bible belt” ship has sailed and left port. Ducktales is gay as hell with Penny being gay, even if Disney won’t let her just come out and say it, the crew still had her say it as much as they could, Violet’s dad’s being gay, Della being bi and Webby and Lena being as close to a couple you can get without disney screaming at them no. Andi Mack is fully avaliable on D+ as well.. well okay not fully because the dad turned out to be a pedophile, but still a series with a fully gay character is out there. And finally Owl House got TONS of press for having a bi progatanist and having her love intrest be a girl. Even if Dana Terrance had to FIGHT for that, and rightly so good on her, the point is you have queer characters already. The groups that hate you for that aren’t going to magically stop hating you because you hide the fact a short anyone can see from minute one is very , beautifully gay, I mean it starts with a very swishy space cat emerging from a rainbow atop a pink dog. COME ON. I only have a few words left for disney..

Okay whew, one more and we’re out of here.

Burrow: It’s Okay to Ask for Help and To Bang a Willing Salamander This was the first one I watched today. In hindsight had I properly researched the shorts and realized how heavy they were I probably would’ve saved this one for later to help balance out the deep feels of some of these. While Burrow is VERY VERY good, as all these shorts have been even Float, it’s subject matter is a lot lighter. I mean so far we’ve had stories about toxic masculinity, animal abuse, issues accepting your child is diffrent, sacrficing yourself so your loved one can have a better life, autisim and coming out of the closet. Even Smash and Grab which is light and breezy.. still has a disney death, and is still about a heroic rush to freedom from slavery whenyou think about it. This one.. is about an insecure bunny whose afraid to ask for help and ends up learning to get it while ending up plumiting through a bunch of comedic set pieces. It’s basically if Winnie the Pooh and Bugs Bunny had a baby comedy wise, it has the warm feeling of pooh art wise, a storybook quality tha’ts utterly adoring.. but director Madeline Sharafan specifccally wanted the animators to take after chuck jones, using lots of great expressions and reactions. It has a real classic theatrical screwball comedy vibe and given The Looney Tunes, Droopy, and Tom and Jerry mean the world to me and i’m glad nto reocnnect with 2/3 thanks to HBO Max.. I fucking loved it.

Burrow is still a personal story and is based on Sharifan’s experinces having trouble colaberating, wanting something to be fully baked before showing it off, something I agian relate to. She often hid from the others and refused to show her work until it was done while everyone else was happy to help. And as the previously used to slam disney hard with something they own Hickman Era of X-men has shown.. colaboration is just better and more freeing. By having friends and colleuge s to bounce off of you refine ideas, see how people react to them and grow a bit and that’s what the shorts about.

The plot is easily the simpliest of these: A young bunny wants to build her dream burrow but gets self concious when she runs into a friendly mole and rat living next door to where she wants to build and keeps digging to find both privacy and her own place.. and instead ends up digging into various shenangians and other burrows from frogs, to hedgehogs to most memorably some Salmanders taking a sauna.. and in the best and most ‘how the fuck did they get away with this bit of it”, one of the salamanders ends up .. gladly removing his town and being liike “You wanna do this? I mean I got an hour free” And i’m just saying while now wasn’t the time and the offer was a little awkward i’d go for it if I was her. I mean at least ask him out for coffee later. He seems nice enough if low on boundries. Then ride him until the morning light girl, ride it. She also finds the Demon Bear from New Mutants at one point.. so that’s where he retried to after danny kicked his ass again. Neat.

But eventually our heroione digs herself too deep and ends up hitting water before finding a

Who sees her crumpled plans and then does the stygian call of the badger to call all the other animals to help and after they escape the flood, the bunny finally realizes their good people and lets them see the plans. So we end on our heroine and her new friends and possible salamander lover helping her settle in as she finallyg ets the home she wanted, complete with disco. I mean every home should have a disco. If I didn’t have a ceeling fan i’d have a disco ball.. and I still want one just to set somewhere or hang away from the fan . Let me dream dammit. Overally a fun, hilarious, mad dash short with a good message and a good note to go out on.

Final Thoughts: Overall.. the Sparkshorts program is fucking spectacular, a great way to let some of Pixar’s staff get into the directors chair and really shine, and a way to tackle issues that they may not be able to get greenlit into a full film. Lushily animated, well produced, Pixar has announced MORE are coming and I cannot wait. Thank you kev for comissioning this, and thank you all for reading. If your new and liked this review, follow this blog as I talk disney all the time: when they come back i’ll be doing regular coverage of Amphibia, Ducktales and the Owl House as new episodes come out every week, and i’m currently doing a retropsective on the three cablleros kev also paid for, with the finale of it, an episode by episode look at the legend of the three cablleros, starting this week. I’m also covering LIfe and times of scrooge mcduck (though infrequently for a bit), and finishing up a look at darkwing duck’s just us justice ducks, started with looks at all the players involved and finshing next week with the episode itself. So if any of that sounds good to you, check out the archives, but goodbye, goodbye, goodbye for now.

#sparkshorts #pixar #disney #disney plus #disney+#purl #kitbull #out #wind #loop #burrow #LBGTQ+#lbgt #lbgtq #float #smash and grab #robots

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dark-muse-iris · 3 years

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2021 Totals, an Alternative to Resolutions

I truly hate New Years' Resolutions. I've never kept one because starting anything on January 1st feels like too much pressure. I've done better with goal-setting by starting at Samhain and having different goals for each season. The temperature changes, my goal changes. My goal during Yule has been reflection and rest. This post is part of meeting that goal and it's long, so I'll place a cut:

At the beginning of 2021, I had just gotten out of being homeless and resented so many people for their role in that experience. After years of giving to others, I learned help wasn't coming for me. That rage made me claw my way out with a determination to break everything within me that held me back from walking the road to my future life alone. It's macabre, but after losing 4 family members in a year and realizing my community thinks disabled people are broken eggs for the omelette of freedom, planning for solitude seemed like a wise endeavor. To that end, my 2021 goals focused on cultivating the individual (since I gave up on the collective of humankind in 2020) and on survival, i.e., living out of spite.

To meet that goal, I needed to address mental health, specifically what my brain believes about my lived experience. By embracing my attachment to lists, I documented all things I did for fun and learning for 2021. The goal was to irrevocably break the part of my brain that believes I "haven't done anything" unless I'm overworking or outside my house interacting with people. Fuck people, man. If I've learned anything, it's that most of the time you can't depend on others the way they've depended on you. When it's your turn for that helping hand, your friends and family will get amnesia and not even call.

Since 2022 is likely to be another year with social restrictions and working from home (at least for me), I thought I'd share this exercise in case anyone else was having that end-of-year meltdown thinking 2021 was a complete waste. It was definitely a shitshow for me, but a waste it was not. Below is my 2021 in Review, plus some new categories of tracking I'll be looking at in 2022.

2021 in Review, totals:

Concerts attended - 6 - all virtual

Museums visited - 1 - I cried looking at impressionist art

Books read - 21 - 11 fiction, 10 nonfiction

TV fiction series watched - 31 seasons - Half of these were historical fiction, surprise surprise

Documentaries/Reality specials watched - 38 - several of these were true crime or related to cults

Anime/Cartoons watched - 21 seasons

Korean/K-Drama watched - 1 (of course it was Squid Game, I wasn't soft enough for fluff in 2021)

Movies watched - 77 (holy shitttt)

Discord Servers - 10 (I'm not very active, but if I want to engage with a group I usually do it here)

Projected Categories to track in 2022:

TV fiction series (by season) - I'm planning on more sci-fi and historical fiction.

TV non-fiction series (by season) - I'm planning on more food documentary series since it's harder and harder to eat out these days.

Documentaries - I'm still studying cults as a hobby.

Comedy specials - This needed its own category since drunk me enjoys them and watched several in 2021.

Movies - Should I watch less movies in 2022? PROBABLY!

Anime (Japanese only) - I missed out on a lot of "classics" when I was in college and grad school, so I'd like to try to catch up on some.

Cartoons (non-anime) - The place for me to re-watch old favorites for the serotonin boost.

Korean/K-Drama - If 2022 is a softer year, I'll watch more k-dramas.

Books (fiction and nonfiction) - I'm going to pledge to read 22 books for 2022 as part of the Goodreads Reading Challenge.

Concerts (virtual) - I actually really love virtual concerts. I can see everything, wear comfortable clothes, and the food's cheap. They're disability friendly in the way live concerts could never be.

Concerts (live) - I have three live concerts planned for 2022. Hopefully I'll be able to go to them...

Museums visited - Now that I'm vaxxed and boosted, I can visit more museums and see traveling exhibits on low-traffic days.

Hobbies I worked on - In 2020 and 2021, I picked up a lot of hobbies and feel I should be keeping track of them to see how rampant the ADHD is getting under stress.

Video games played - It's a crime that I don't have this logged anywhere, as I've been gaming since 1992.

Fanfictions read - Bringing this back since I'm here online again and would like to support the community that's still here and on AO3. My to-be-read list was over 100 fics when I left in 2020.

Words written - I'm going to participate in some writing challenges this year. For 2022, I'm planning on spending LESS time helping others and more time writing my way out of my own shit. I don't know how much of this will be for fanfics vs. original fiction. I'm just focused on writing *something* and get my flow back again.

Playlists curated - I need to overhaul my playlists because about half of them aren't functionally working for me and I rely on music for mood management. I'm going to build some new ones according to mood like any Pisces would.

Number of times I helped a friend in crisis - Tracking because I feel I've done this too much in 2021. My empathy gets me in trouble. Some ask for help and don't even say thanks anymore, so I'm over it. I don't feel good helping others anymore, so I'm going to track this monthly to make sure I'm honoring my own boundaries. The truth is I helped more people through storytelling than I ever did being on the phone til 2 AM knowing that person on the other line just wanted to dump on me. My advice is no longer getting shared in 2022. I'm just going to lie like everyone else and say "oh nooooo, I'm sorry" and pretend the solution isn't obvious.

I want to extend a heartfelt congratulations to all of us who barely got to the end of this shit year, a continuation of 2020 for many. I hope the people we morphed into for survival continue to serve us through 2022 and its share of challenges. There are more bridges to burn, more opportunities to seize, and more difficult roads to cross. May we all stand firm on the freshly-cemented bricks others have thrown at us and continue to wear the impermeable armor we've made from the scraps of blown-up experiences.

#iris rambles

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ninjakasuga · 3 years

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Sonsally Celebration Week, Year 3, Day Four!

Sonally Celebration Week, Year 3, Day Four!

Another day of Sonsally Week, unlike the last few entries, this is where I break linearity and go travel back to a prior period in the timeline. When the prompt of ‘Power’ was shown my mind of course went to the Super-Forms, the Deep Power Stones, and the like. Yet also my mind went back to some fanart from last year about a certain someone I would have loved to have seen share a Super Form with Sonic… Y’all can see where this is going.~

Forward: Timeline wise, this is 9-10yrs before Crossroads; the last battle of the war with Dr. Eggman. I admit I’m once again sprinkling tidbits from my still WIP Archie-Sonic-Verse that has yet to be published, but I think the easter eggs and hints of things yet to be seen will be fun for the reader.

Power:

“Sal, are you flipping insane?!” Cried Sonic as he stared Sally down at her suggestion. “You want to use the Deep Power Stones to amplify our Super Forms? What about all that ‘overload potential’ nonsense?!”

Standing beside Sonic, one eye on the half of the Deep Power Stone in her hand, the other on the approaching Egg Armada. A legion of robots, ships, and what other mechanical horrors Eggman had left to try and quash them all for good. With the world-wide alliances winning victory, after victory, Eggman grew desperate and now was throwing everything he had at them in a ‘If I can’t have it no one will!’ tantrum of a scorched world move. Basically it was done to the wire, and now they were as desperate as Eggman.

Her grip tightened on the stone, that madman would not have the last laugh. He wouldn’t end their world as he did the Mobius he came from! “It’s something I was thinking about for awhile, Sonic. We’ve seen what the stones can do just augmenting the individuals who bring the stones together. If we bring that kind of augmentation to the Super Forms? We have the Master Emerald already channeling to empower the Seven Chaos Emeralds, imagine channeling the Stones through it to the Emeralds and the Power Rings. All of you could not just have a greater power boost, but potentially the forms will last longer, long enough to wreck most if not all of the Egg Armada and put an end to this war for good!”

“It might work…” Murmured Tails, standing on the other side to Sally. “Channeling the Stones' power through the Master Emerald, which itself is a beacon and conduit for the Seven Servers…” He began to murmur as his brain went over the numbers and possible calculations. As the two-tailed fox finished his thoughts, he turned to the Guardian of Angel Island, wanting his thoughts. “The Master Emerald is your expertise Knuckles, you think it will work?”

The red-furred Guardian furrowed his brow as he contemplated this. “Maybe, I admit while my communion with Tikal or my Great Grandfather has given me greater insight to the mystical aspects of the Master Emerald, I’m still a novice truth be told.” He sighed, looking apologetic. “Sadly I know more of the scientific side of things given the Brotherhood’s data mostly focuses around that. Even my Father’s old notes are more historical musings than proven theory.” He sighed again, mentally cursing his forebears for yet another aspect of oversight the Brotherhood neglected during their long tenure of guarding Angel Island. Then again, save for the Lost Tribe, it would seem most of the old mystic arts were lost to the Echidna of today, what few were left. “Given we’ve found many connections to the old mystical artifacts of the world, there’s a good chance they’ll work together as Sally thinks.”

A low growl-like ‘hmm’ punctuated the air, before a stern voice interjected aloud. “Or it will overload the Emerald, destroy it, and fry all of us, or potentially create a super-bomb.” Shadow stated with arms crossed, and looking pensive. As all looked his way, he spoke on. “I’m not saying we ditch the idea, but it’s something to consider. I have a vow to protect this world to uphold, as well as too many I care about to let them die.” His thoughts dwelled on Rouge, Omega, and Hope especially. His other comrades within G.U.N. and the Thorndyke Labs. Even of those here, despite any past animosity, he wanted them and their loved ones to equally live. They all had family, and friends to protect.

The last member of the group, his expression uneasy, yet a deep resolve in his eyes looked about his comrades, and then the horizon as their enemy continued to fly toward them. “We don’t really have a choice do we? This is the last chance, for all of you, as well as the Future I want to prevent from coming to pass.” Clenching his fists, Silver felt his powers hum through his being. It had been a long journey, and one not without many hurdles. From his bungling to interpret data from then Future, and its founding in the past, to dealing with the truths of his own ‘Master’ and the struggle of wondering if he was truly a pawn to bring about ‘his’ world versus a world for everyone to be happy. In the end he was wiser, more experienced and ever resolute to ensure the dark future never came to pass. All other obstacles save Eggman had been dealt with. This was the final hour. “So, save for Sonic we’re all in agreement?”

Hands on his hips, Sonic frowned deeply, looking rather indignant. “Hey, hey! I never said scrap the plan, I was just pointing out how before everyone kept yammering about doing something stupid with the Stones. Given either configuration usage done wrong could lead to KAB-BOOM! Jus’ pointing that out!” Eyeing everyone, his gaze rested on Sally, those deep blue pools that always sucked him in. Reaching for her hand, he wrapped his hand over hers, their wedding rings shining in the sun together. “You think this is our best bet, Sal? If you’re really onboard, so’m I.”

In truth, Sally did share the same concerns as Sonic and everyone else. She knew even using just the ‘boost’ augment which so far had been the safest, could lead to disaster as much as the other configuration which always ended destructively. Plus this would be the last time they could use them. As per Merlin Prower’s warning, the Deep Power Stones could be used a handful of times, and the mystic had given them warning they were on their last usage. This was due to a special magical limiter the Neo-Walkers put on the Stones, halving their ability so the Freedom Fighters and their allies could have an edge. However with the last use, the limiter was off, and so it was full power, and potentially the best opportunity for the worst case scenario. After this the Stones would vanish for another millennia until they were recharged and reappear randomly about the planet again.

Yet as Silver pointed out, what choice did they really have? Eggman was going all out; and thus, their hands were tied. “It’s the best shot we have. G.U.N.’s mechanized forces are exhausted and what isn’t in the repair bay is out fighting the forces encroaching their borders. None of the rest of the allied nations have any armies big enough to fight this horde. We can’t call for help from Blaze or any other friends from other dimensions because the Zone Cops sealed all dimension travel to Mobius Prime to prevent Eggman from escaping. This, this, is all we can do.” Her resolve sounded unshakable, despite her internal doubt, she had to sound resolute. Matching her gaze with Sonic, she managed a grin as she laced her fingers with his. “Let’s do-it-to-it, gang!”

Smiles formed about at the catch-phrase that was so infectious even Shadow was sucked in. One by one, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow and Silver joined in placing their hands over each other, forming a lock. “Let’s do-it-to-it! They all cried, before breaking to get into place. While Sally stood by the Master Emerald with Knuckles, the others began to loop around the Master Emerald, each linking their hands together. From Shadow to Silver, to Tails, to Sonic. Instead of holding Knuckles’ hand, Sonic placed his own on the Echidna’s shoulder. Knuckles did the same with Sally, while his free hand touched the Master Emerald. Sally held the Deep Power Stones in each hand, waiting for the right moment to place them together. Craning her head to Knuckles she nodded, and he nodded back, his gaze shifting to the large emerald his bloodline made their mission to protect along with Angel Island itself (well Echidna population for them, Knuckles was out to protect everyone).

“The servers are the Seven Chaos… Chaos is power, enriched by the heart… The controller exists to unify the chaos!” As he started the chant, he briefly saw a flash of Tikal within the Master Emerald, smiling at them all. This allowed Knuckles to smile, but he didn’t let this distract him. “We who are blessed by the Chaos, beseech to wield your power and wisdom, to save the planet and the innocent lives that dwell upon it. Let us be the Guardians of Mobius, of the Chaos, and the Light of Gaia!”

“We will gladly give our lives if you can let us protect all we love, please help us.” Murmured Sally, interjecting her own addition once Knuckles’ incantation chant was finished. Staring at the two halves of the stones, Sally placed them together, the halves flashed as they became one. An intense glow emanating from the black object that soon blinded them all. A bright, green glow from the Master Emerald broke through the white, with the gathered Power Rings (including Sonic’s Billionth Special Ring) all giving off a golden glow as the colors mingled together. A pillar of the mingled colors erupts from the Master Emerald’s resting place, shooting up, and up into space as the island is bathed in its warm glow.

Tails was the first to regain his sight, and once the relief they did not explode passed through him, a wide grin formed on his face as he felt it, the power of his Super Form. Not only that but he could ‘feel’ the power was increased. “Alright I think it worked!” He hollered, pumping his arms as he felt the power of Turbo Tails peak and flare briefly. “Hooo it’s been a long spell!”

Shadow merely made a ‘heh’ sound, yet smiled as he stared at his own glowing hands. “Yes, I can feel it, now those machines can feel Super Shadow’s fists and Chaos Spears.”

“This still blows me away with how powerful it makes me feel.” Murmured Silver as he marveled at his Super Silver transformation.

“Oh holy crap…” They heard Knuckles utter, followed by Sonic stammering “S-S-Sal?”. Everyone turned their heads and gasped in awe.

“Oh, my God…” Was all Sally could murmur. Her fur was a pink-orange tinge, and her hair a golden glow, flowing freely from the sheer power itself. “H-how? I thought only those with a tie to the Chaos Force could achieve super form?!”

“Maybe the powers that be felt you were worthy.” Knuckles mused, giving a nodding approval to this development. The light-pink glow of his Hyper Knuckles form, arcing with energy like everyone else. “In any case it looks like it worked.”

“I’m not a fan of the colors, they remind me of when I spent hours scrubbing chemicals out of my fur.” Muttered Sally, recalling the chemical splash that caused her fur and hair to change colors twice, before finally returning to her proper brown and auburn tones. She shuddered at the memory; she was lucky Rotor and Quack were able to make a fur-shampoo solution to cleanse the stuff from her fur, and luckier she wasn’t exposed long enough to cause any health issues.

Rubbing his chin, Sonic flashed a wide smile as he drew in his wife’s Super Form. “I dunno Sal, you rock the colors, and do’. It’s giving me ideas-.”

Tails held up one hand, and the other he put a finger to his mouth. Making a faux-gagging sound. “Sonic, I’m right here, don’t wanna hear that stuff!”

Snorting, Sonic rolled his eyes, “Hey, hey Li’Bro who said my mind was going to the gutter?”

Knuckles shot Sonic an incredulous look. “And I quote, “I’m always horny for Sal.”, end quote.”

Both Sonic and Sally managed to blush through the color of their super forms. Each coughing, and averting their gazes from their friends for a time.

“How about we can the small talk, and focus on saving the world?” Shadow stated, breaking up the moment as he turned and pointed towards the approaching Armada. “I’m sure Eggman saw that light show and is going to get even more antsy to try and finish us off.”

Clearing her throat, Sally stepped forward from the Master Emerald, letting Shadow’s comment further help to put that momentary embarrassment behind them. FAR behind them hopefully! “Shadow’s right, we got the power, now let’s use it.”

Pounding his fists together, Sonic began to jog and jump in place to pump himself up. “Juice and jam time folks, let’s show ol’ Eggy he should’ve stayed on that satellite in his home dimension.”

“If not just shriveled up and died.” Growled Knuckles as he flexed his fists before slamming them together.

“For everyone here, and those yet to come, we must win.” Silver uttered as he began to float, flexing his psychokinetic powers in anticipation.

Spinning his twin-tails, Tails began to hover as well. “Sally, give the word, we’re ready!”

“Everyone, it’s been an honor… LET’S GO!!”

#boundingforfreedom #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sally Acorn #Archie-Sonic Comics #Knuckles the Echidna #Shadow the Hedgehog #Miles 'Tails' Prower #Silver the Hedgehog #Master Emerald #Deep Power Stones #Super Forms #Fanfic

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ducksisthebest · 4 years

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2021 EoA Discord Ship Appreciation Week Day 1

Notes: 2021 EoA ship appreciation week from the EoA discord server. The topic for today: Cuddling. So, let's do this! :3

In the warm, sunny morning was Elena, sitting all alone in the Grand Council room doing more agreements and paperwork that were just begging her to sign them. Elena sighed in defeat as she got up and walked to her best friend's room who also happens to be the royal wizard of Avalor. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought about her closest friend -- Mateo was always been by her side like he promised in Vallestrella. Trust Mateo when you need him by your side because he always keeps his word like a -- close -- best friend would, as Elena kept thinking about Mateo. Her feet brought her to the royal wizard's quarters in the matter of minutes, Elena didn't want to bother Mateo but she felt the need to talk with someone grow larger. Her family were all busy and her other friends -- not including Mateo -- were busy with their jobs as a Grand Council member and Captain of the Guard. Elena slowly opened the door to reveal- an empty room?

"Mateo? Are you in here?" Elena asked quietly as she looked around his neat and organized room.

"Yes Elena? Do you need something?" A voice from behind her suddenly said as Elena could recognize that voice anywhere -- it was her Mateo- wait, not her Mateo!? It was just Mateo, the person she was looking forward to speak with.

"Oh, sorry for intruding your room Mateo, I was looking for you." She replied with a sheepish smile as she banished her thoughts about 'her' Mateo and focused on the task at hand.

"Mhmm." Mateo hummed in amusement before reaching out to lay a hand on Elena's shoulders. "So, aren't you going to tell me why you were looking for me?" He gently asked while squeezing her shoulder in a comforting way.

Elena replied with her normal tone, "I was looking for you so we could talk since it's been a while and I haven't checked in with you because of all the paper works."

Mateo looked at Elena carefully before replying back. "Ahh, the towers of paper work have got you this time huh? And sure, I don't really have a busy schedule, just need to visit a place to get some stuff."

"Oooh, where are you going? And what stuff?" Elena asked, curious at this 'place' Mateo was going to and what he was getting.

"Oh um, I'm just going somewhere and getting somethings?" He raised his hand and placed it behind his neck like he always does when he feels nervous.

Elena raised a brow before shrugging. "Okay, I'll be off then." She said walking away casually as if nothing happened.

"Um, didn't you want to discuss something with me Elena?" Mateo asked but Elena just waved her hand at him before walking back into the Grand Council room.

"Hmm, seems like she's hiding something from you Mateo."

Mateo jumped at the voice and looked down to see Skylar who no doubt, came in just recently. "Oh, it's just you Skylar. And what do you mean by she's hiding something and what are you doing here?"

Skylar looked at him with a tilt of his head before shrugging and answering his questions. "First, princesa wanted to talk with you and then just left as of nothing happened. Second, I'm here to take you to Quita Moz, he called me to get you."

"Quita Moz? Why?"

"I don't know? Do you expect me to know everything Mateo?"

"No, it's just. He doesn't summon me often, only for Elena's tamborita magic lessons or more about the big test Elena had to face."

"Oh well, so I can drop you off there right now and go back to sun-bathing?"

Mateo chuckled before doing as commanded.

"So, did you do something bad mi amigo?"

Mateo stared back at Skylar. "And what do you mean by that?"

Skylar flew to the portal leading to Vallestrella and used his paw to open the doors. "Well, since Quita Moz decided to summon you randomly. I just thought he saw you do something wrong and is gonna teach you the right way."

"You know I'm too innocent to do anything like that and Quita Moz is our friend." Mateo replied before looking ahead for Quita Moz's rock hideout.

"Ok then mi amigo!" Skylar replied as he flew past the rock illusion and into Quita Moz's nest. "We're here Quita Moz!" Skylar called out. After a few a seconds, Quita Moz rises on cue from the magic fire and turns to Mateo and Skylar.

"Ahh, yes. Mateo, just who I was looking for."

"Hi Quita Moz, so what you need me for?" Mateo replied with curiosity as Skylar sat patiently.

"I- I mean we need to discuss about the perfect gift you're going to give to Elena", Quita Moz began.

"Wait what? Really? You just summon me to talk about the gift I'm gonna give to Elena?" Mateo was confused at Quita Moz's task for him.

"What do you mean exactly Quita Moz?" The royal wizard questioned.

"You know, it doesn't take a wise sunbird oracle to know that you have something for our princess and soon-to-be queen of Avalor." Quita Moz grinned Skylar laughed inwardly.

Mateo blushed at the implication the wise oracle was implementing.

"You- wha- me!? And- and- Elena!?" Mateo stuttered.

'You really are an oblivious wizard.' Skylar thought as Naomi said it a few times.

Quita Moz sighed before gliding his way down to where Mateo was standing. "What I'm saying is that you have a 'like, like' situation with Princess Elena and you need to come up with a special gift to give her on Valentine's Day. Plus I already know you're gonna give her a gift without me telling you to."

"You're serious?" Mateo asked while brainstorming gifts that were amazing and meaningful for Elena.

"Mateo, Valentine's Day is tomorrow and if you don't give her a special gift, what kind of friend would you be to not give her a very special gift after all she's done for you and Avalor? I see that Naomi and Gabe are making rather special gifts for our princess later on that means a lot to her, so what about you?"

"I mean, you're right but shouldn't you be summoning me for bigger problems? And, I was planning to give her a rather special gift anyways." Mateo shrugged it off before waving to the sunbird and taking off on Skylar.

"Soo, what do you have in mind Mateo?" Skylar asked the wizard who was deep in thought. "Mi amigo? Mateo!?" Skylar called out, snapped him out of his musings.

"Huh? What?" Mateo who clearly wasn't listening to what the jaquin asked him. "Sorry, I was thinking about what special gift to give Elena."

"So what have you thought of?"

Mateo furrowed his brows in a attempt to remember all his gift ideas for Elena. "I thought of giving her, her favorite flowers, magic spells that I learned or could learn, beautiful jewelry, cute stuff animals, and a few other things." Mateo then listed off each one of his ideas as they flew their way to the palace.

"I think you should put all those ideas into one and get Elena to each of them, like a- a scavenger hunt!" Skylar happily suggested before dropping off Mateo on Elena's balcony.

"That's a- a really great idea! Thanks Skylar!" Mateo ran to his not-so-secret workshop to set the big idea into action.

"Your welcome amigo!" Skylar replied and got right back into sun-bathing with Migs and Luna.

-------

Meanwhile, with Elena in the Grand Council room with towers of paper work.

'Ugh, what was I thinking!? I needed to talk and check in with Mateo but instead I just casually walked back here with these paper works!' Elena chided herself silently and rested her head on her arms on the semi-circle table with an exhausted sigh.

"Uh, Elena? Are you alright?" A child-like voice came from Elena's side causing Elena to flinch a little.

"Oh, its just you Isa and yes. I'm fine. Just tired." Elena replied and laid her head back down on her arms.

"So? Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and you just have to take a break then." Isabel reassured before giving Elena a pan dulce.

Elena looked in Isa's warm, light brown eyes before taking the sweet bread and pulled her little sister in a hug. "Thank you Isa, you always know how to make me smile", Elena whispered as she held Isabel in her arms.

"Your welcome Elena." Isabel returned the hug and muttered, "But I'm not the only one who knows." Continuing her topic, "So, speaking of tomorrow.. who do you think is your Valentine is, Elena?"

'Wait, tomorrow is Valentine's Day!?' Elena thought as she turned back to her little sister. "Did you just say tomorrow is Valentine's Day Isa?"

"Um, yes?"

"AH! I forgot to make the Valentine's Day cards!"

"Whoa, calm down. It's alright, I made a lot of Valentine cards that are just waiting for us to decorate and give out. I was coming to you actually to ask you to decorate with me."

"Oh, sure I will! Let me get some snacks and head to your room, go on ahead of me, I'll come real soon."

"Okay Elena!" Isabel said excitedly as she ran to her room to get the art supplies ready.

Elena reached the kitchen and her abuela happened to be there making tamales and pan dulce.

"Oh, hi mija! Would you like some tamales?"

"Yes please abuela, I'm starving." Elena said tiredly as Luisa smiled softly at her granddaughter before giving Elena a plate of tamales and pan dulce, two of the Flores sister's favorites.

"You're lucky you came here early, your abuelo would've finished these in minutes." Luisa chuckled.

"Of course he would. Okay, thank you abuela!" Elena chuckled before leaving the kitchen and into the hallways to Isabel's room.

As Luisa went back to cover the plate of extra tamales but she saw it was gone. "Francisco!"

"Yes mi amor?" Francisco came out with an empty plate but it was obvious that he had eaten all of the tamales in a matter of minutes.

"Ay Francisco." Luisa chuckled to herself.

"Sorry mi amor, you know how I can be with your food around." Francisco laughed before helping his wife make new tamales for dinner.

As Elena walked in the hallways, enjoying the freedom away from the paper work that she had to do. While walking, she heard lots of shuffling and bag noises in Mateo's suite. Her curiosity piqued to what her royal wizard was doing in his room. She knew popping her head into her best friend's business was impolite and not a princess thing to do but her curiosity won tremendously and the next thing Elena knew, she was leaning against Mateo's door trying to listen more carefully but then-

"Elena?" Elena jumped at the voice and instinctively jumped away from Mateo's door and the direction where the voice came from. "I can explain- Isa?" Elena started and relaxed knowing it was just her little sister but it was still embarrassing.

"Um, what were you doing at Mateo's door?" Isabel asked staring from her big sister who had cheeks tinged with red to the royal wizard's room door. "Oooh, I get it." Isabel winked before walking back to her room.

Elena blushed and ran after her little sister to ask, "Exactly what do you mean you 'get it' Isa?"

"I see that your spying on Mateo~"

"Wait, wha-! Don't even go there, no I wasn't spying but I heard some ruffling noises coming from his room and my curiosity just- won me over at that time but I swear I wasn't spying on Mateo." Elena said frantically while wringing her hands at Isabel.

"Uh huh, I'll believe that when you stop visiting Mateo on a daily basis." Isabel sarcastically retorted and laughed before continuing, "Come on Elena, I'm your sister, we don't keep secrets from each other. Right?"

Elena sighed in defeat and nodded in agreement.

"So, what were you doing back there?"

"I'm telling the truth Isa, I heard some ruffling and awfully a lot of noises in Mateo's room so I thought I could try to guess what he was doing in there to be making all those noises."

"Okay, I believe you. Now can we decorate these cards while eating and simply having sister time?" Isabel said excitedly, practically jumping from her seat.

Elena laughed and agreed with Isabel, as both sisters spent their much needed sister time decorating their Valentine cards and chatting about sister things. Mateo worked tirelessly on Elena's Valentine's Day gift that he totally forgot about making the rest of the gifts for his friends and his mother. But he mindlessly admitted that he would have to do them later, the gift for Elena is way more important and must be complete til tomorrow. Although he would work all night to make all the Valentine's Day gifts for his friends and his mom, while Elena and Isa finished their cards and went to dinner as a family. Elena made one of the Valentine cards very special for one very special friend that she had, both Elena and Mateo worked tirelessly to make every gift as perfect as it could be, which applied to Mateo more than Elena in general.

---------

Finally, the special day has arrived to Avalor! It was Valentine's Day and there was something in the air, that something is- 'love'. Mateo worked all night making Valentine gifts for his friends and visiting his mom as a gift to her since he's been so busy at the palace as the royal wizard that he couldn't visit his mother that often anymore, but his mother understood and praised her son for how much he's grown. He took the carriage to the palace, ready to give Elena the best gift he's ever made. But first things first, wardrobe change. Mateo wore a new set of midnight blue wizard robes with gold linings at his neck collar and chest, including a silver satchel for his tamborita to go in. And to top all that with a bright red-maroon sash tied to his waist with part of it hanging from his hip.

'This is gonna be great! I just hope it all goes to plan.' Mateo thought as he walked outside with a very special card hiding behind his back that was going to be delivered to the princess' suite.

"Hey Mateo! What do you have there?"

Mateo jumped at the voice and stared with wide eyes at no other than Naomi Turner herself. "Uh- hi Naomi! What brings you here?"

"I asked first Mateo, what's that in your hands?" Naomi crossed her arms over her chest with narrowing eyes at the item in Mateo's hands.

"I-It's n-nothing really, I'll be going now." Mateo tried to run but Naomi grabbed him by the neck collar and dragged him back. "Please Naomi, it's nothing and you're ruining my new robe", Mateo complained as Naomi dropped her grip on his neck collar.

"Wait, new wizard robes, shining boots, new satchel, combed hair, bright red sash, and a pink card. Are you going to ask 'Elena' to be your Valentine!?" Naomi said with clapping hands.

"Wait, Mateo is going to do what now?", another voice came in and it was no other than Luna.

"Shh guys!" Mateo said covering both of their mouths with his hands.

"Sorry" they apologize in unison as Mateo moved his hands back.

"So are you?" Naomi asked again.

Mateo sheepishly smiled while subconsciously rubbing the back of his neck, "Yea, I was hoping to ask her today after she solves the scavenger hunt."

"Oh my goodness Mateo, I'm so happy for you two! Finally, me and Gabe can settle down our bets on who takes the big step first." Naomi happily said as Luna and Mateo stared at her. "What?"

"When did you and Gabe have a bet about me and Elena getting together?"

"Uh, a few months ago. We watched you and Elena for months and yet, you two are completely oblivious and clueless about it so we decided to bet on who makes the move first and I bet you so yes! Gold coins are gonna be happy in my pocket rather than Gabe's." Naomi patted the pocket to the side of her dress.

Luna patted Mateo on the back and wished him good luck and drag Naomi out to have a conversation about a plan that was about to be set in motion.

Mateo looked at them confusingly before shrugging and slipping the Valentine's Day card under Elena's room door with a bouquet of her favorite flowers at her door. He released the breath he hadn't realized he held and walked to his workshop to get the finishing gift.

"So, you're telling me we should hang mistletoes' above the spot they both are gonna end up at?" Luna nodded and grinned as she brought out a full packed bag of mistletoes'.

"Whoa!? You should've have told me that you had these, I could've used them to get them together before."

"I didn't just find this one hour ago you know. Anyways, I know where they're gonna end up at so let's go there quickly and hope Mateo isn't there first, if he is then we're going with plan B."

"Can we please do plan B? It sounds more funny than just hanging them up." Naomi begged as she got on Luna with the bag full of mistletoes' in her hand."Okay, okay. I was actually planning to do plan B instead of A. Let's get Skylar too!"

"Sure! Now let's get Skylar and move!"

They flew down to Elena's balcony where they woke Skylar and filled him in with about the plan. The three then fly off to their set up spot and was lucky enough to find Mateo not there yet. Naomi climbed onto a tree branch with the bag of mistletoes' while Skylar and Luna perched on top of the tree. As Naomi was getting ready to dump it all on the couple, Luna awaited on the tree top while Skylar flew off to wake up the sleeping princess. Naomi chuckled to herself at how this so called 'prank' would turn out in the end.

Back to Elena... Elena was still fast asleep until she heard scraping at her balcony doors, she got up and saw Skylar scratching the door frame as if she wanted to go in. 'That one's new ' Elena thought as Skylar never scratched her door frame to get in before.

"What are you doing Skylar?" Elena said as she opened the doors and scratched behind Skylar's ear.

Skylar pressed more into Elena's hand and purred before calling out, "Um, look at your door. Bye!" then flew off back to Naomi.

"My door?" Elena repeated as she looked towards the door to find a decorated card on the ground. She walked over to take a closer look and read what it said, 'Good morning my beautiful princess, feeling great? I have something planned for you, just you wait.' Signed by your ~Secret Admirer -- Elena stared at the card for a while trying to process everything, she had a secret admirer!? She knew she was admired by a lot of people in Avalor but a secret admirer on Valentine's Day? She got a tingly feeling inside knowing she had a secret admirer who was going to give her something on Valentine's Day. Elena opened her door to find all her favorite flowers assorted in a beautiful bouquet. She gaped at the bouquet before looking in the hallways for anyone suspicious. She saw another piece of paper in the flowers that read, 'As your friend I may reveal, go to the place where you have your meals.'

'A place where I have my meals? Well it obviously the kitchen', Elena thought as she ran to the kitchen where she found jaquin stuff animals of Skylar, Migs, Luna, her and Mateo as one. She couldn't decide which one to take so she took all of the stuff animal jaquins until Elena looked and saw another piece of paper on jaquin Mateo's head which it read, 'I see you are flying through, now go to a place where roses grew.'

'Abuela's roses grow in the garden', Elena ran straight to the garden roses with her miniature jaquin pals, she later found a silver tiara with red and pink linings and hearts. Elena admired the tiara before putting it on and continuing the scavenger hunt. Next to where the tiara was placed was yet, another piece of paper. 'You are getting close to your surprise, go to your favorite tree where you see the sun rise.'

'My favorite tree is over at the corner in the garden', Elena ran faster to her favorite tree where she saw a picnic blanket and a picnic basket with, plates of pan dulce, Avaloran chocolates, bunuelos, chocolate-dipped strawberries, churros, flan, and two cups of horchata. These were all Elena's favorites, whoever did this knew her very well.

"Why hello there, Elena." An familiar voice from behind Elena suddenly spoke.

Elena jumped back in shock and gaped at one of her best friend's new wardrobe change. Mateo was dressed in a midnight colored robe with gold linings and his tamborita in a silver satchel. Lastly, a bright red-maroon sash tied onto his waist. Mateo raised a brow in amusement.

"Hi Mateo." Elena greeted simply and tried not to over observe his dashing good looks that she never got a close up look at until now.

"Hi Elena, what are you doing out here?"

"Would you believe me if I said it was part of a surprise?"

"Maybe? But depends on what 'surprise' brought you out here."

"I have a secret admirer who led me on this scavenger hunt."

Mateo made a surprised expression and asked incredulously, "Really?"

"Yea, you wouldn't by any chance know who set this up?"

"Yes actually, I know exactly who."

Elena's eyes widened in shock as she stared at Mateo. "You know who set this up?"

"Yes, and I was told to keep it secret so, it's still a mystery for you."

"Please tell me Mateo, my curiosity is killing me. Please, please, please." Elena begged Mateo with clasped hands in front of her.

"Okay, okay! I'll give you a hint but not the answer."

"Anything please."

"Your secret admirer is closer than you think." Mateo grinned as Elena furrowed her brows hard in thought.

Naomi watched from afar and was getting impatient. 'Elena! Are you that oblivious!? He's literally right in front of you!?' Naomi rolled her eyes as she watched the couple.

Elena kept thinking about what Mateo said and still was oblivious to who was her secret admirer. "I still don't get it."

Mateo sighed before revealing another hint. "He's here."

"Wait, my secret admirer is here?"

"Yes, and like my first hint. He's closer than you think."

Elena remembered the first clue that said this secret admirer was her friend. Then it clicked -- Mateo is.. my secret admirer!? He knows me well enough and is considerate enough to do this all for me. Elena stared back at Mateo in revelation and awe.

"Y-you!"

Naomi, Luna, and Skylar cheered inwardly as Elena finally caught on.

"Mhmm" Mateo hummed and nodded in agreement.

"You did this and you said you knew who my secret admirer is because the secret admirer is you!?" Elena said and lightly smacked his shoulders a few times at his attempted hints even though the secret admirer was him after all.

"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry?" Mateo laughed as he tried to dodge her attacks to his shoulders. "Yes, I did do this all for you because you did more for me and everyone in Avalor so I thought you deserved a rather special gift." He gave Elena her now favorite half-crooked grin.

Elena stood there speechless at this selfless gift Mateo had given her, she could feel different emotions -- happy, admired, thankful, amazed, joyful, and maybe love -- she had felt them all because of this wizard in front of her who happens to be her closest best friend. Elena couldn't get a single word out so she went with physical actions. She hugged him tightly around his middle and rested her head on his shoulder in a comforting position. Mateo straightened at the sudden affection but eagerly returned the embrace by wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"Thank you Mateo, this is the best gift I have even gotten so far." Elena whispered and hugged Mateo a little bit tighter.

"Your welcome Elena, now would you like to join me for breakfast?" Mateo pulled away and held an arm for her.

"Gladly", Elena happily replied and took his arm as they walked towards the picnic area.

The three spying amigos were bursting with happiness for the couple and were also about to execute their plan.

"Oh! You look amazing in those new robes by the way."

Naomi muttered quietly right after, "Don't you mean handsome Elena?"

"Thanks! I made them just the way I wanted them to look, it adds to the wizard's mystique you know?"

Elena nodded as she leaned towards Mateo and rested her head on the comfy spot of his shoulder.

Once Elena got comfy next to Mateo's side, he wrapped his free arm around Elena as they continued eating and enjoying their close proximity. Mateo finished his sweet bread and leaned in close to Elena's ear to whisper, "You look beautiful in that tiara you know."

Elena blushed as she buried her face in his robe fleece to hide her heated face before nodding and thanking him. They both finished their breakfast and Mateo quickly placed all the plates back inside the basket as they went back to their intimate sitting positions.

Luna and Skylar both slowly tap Naomi on the shoulder to signal her as Naomi tugged both of their tails in response as she opened the bag and dumped all the mistletoes' on the couple.

Elena and Mateo were soon covered with mistletoes' as they stared shockingly at Naomi, Luna, and Skylar laughing out of control in the tree above them.

"Did you tell them to do this Mateo?" Elena asked, feeling surprised and -- if she was honest with herself, quite pleased -- shocked.

"No! Not at all! They must've followed me here and waited for the right moment." Mateo shrugged helplessly.

The three of them kept cracking up before they all fell off the tree and landed on the ground still laughing.

"Oh my god, the looks on your faces were priceless." Naomi managed to say while laughing harder, in response, Elena picked a broken branch with leaves and starting smacking them one by one.

"So, you're telling me, you waited for Elena to come sit with me with a bag full of mistletoes' ready to be dump on us?"

The three of them nodded simultaneously.

"Although I was expecting you two to do something." Naomi replied with a smirk.

Elena raised a brow before asking, "Which is Naomi?"

"Kiss!"

If Elena was expecting Naomi to say something, this was not what she expected. Elena and Mateo both stared at Naomi in shock and looked back at each other, not moving an inch.

"Come on guys! Admit it! Me and Gabe have been betting on who makes the move first for a long time so get a move on so I can have gold coins!"

Skylar was quite in shock as well, he didn't expect Naomi to go that far. Luna thought and then agreed with Naomi.

Elena blushed deep red crimson and hid face in her arms as Mateo tried to think of an excuse to use. Instead, he got an idea.

"Llévaluq!" Mateo tapped his tamborita at Naomi, sending her floating up to the fountain.

"You dare drop me Mateo, I will make sure you won't see the next sun rise." Naomi threatened but Mateo just shrugged innocently and dropped Naomi in the fountain.

Luna and Skylar flew over and both grabbed Naomi out, leaving a wet Naomi standing with an angry expression clearly painted on her face. Mateo laughed at her face and muttered a drying spell that dried Naomi off.

After being dried off, "What was that for Mateo!?"

"To brain wash you." Mateo said amusingly as he twirled his tamborita in triumph. Elena laughed along with Mateo and shoved him with her shoulder knocking him over.

"Hey! Don't make me drop you next." Mateo pointed at Elena and tapped her head gently with his tamborita.

"Go ahead and try." Elena challenged as she leapt towards Mateo and grabbed his tamborita out of his hands easily, running off while taunting him.

Mateo walked over to a bush and pulled out his spare tamborita that he purposely kept there just in case while putting on a smug grin towards Elena.

"Llévaluq!" Mateo shouted towards Elena while tapping his tamborita, making Elena float up and back to him.

"What was that now Elena?" Mateo said with a smirk making Elena huff in disappointment but it was obvious to anyone who paid close attention to her that she was fighting a smile and a laugh.

"Don't worry Elena, I still have one more gift."

"Oh, you didn't have to Mateo-" Elena started.

"I want to" Mateo interrupted, "now close your eyes or I'm dumping you in a bush."

"Yes, ol' wise and rude wizard." Elena sarcastically replied.

Mateo just chuckled before running off to get his last gift that he wasn't able to get right away. Elena with her eyes shut while Naomi and Ducks sat on the grass waiting for something interesting to happen.

-----

Meanwhile Mateo ran as quickly as he can to get his last gift for Elena. Naomi, Skylar, Luna, and Elena sit at their boredom and decided to talk a bit while Mateo was getting his gift.

"So, did you guys tell Mateo to do this?" Elena asked.All three of them looked at each other and shook their heads. Elena smiled softly at the thought of sweet Mateo doing this all for her. She really didn't mind but this was enough to keep a huge smile on her face for days. Naomi, Luna, and Skylar suddenly went quiet which broke Elena out of her musings.

"Why so quiet you guys?"

"Oh it's nothing, we're just going over stuff." Naomi replied casually, Elena still unconvinced, scooted towards them and asked them again.

"Fine, we're talking about how this last gift could change things between you and Mateo, not that your relationship already changed over the years. Am I right?" Naomi patted Elena on the back and went back to talking about different kinds of ships. (The boat kinds, not the love ships kind. xD)

Elena stared blankly, furrowing her brows in thought, what changed between me and Mateo? We seem to act the same around each other, we talk, play, and do everything 'together'. The word together echoed in Elena's mind as she pondered these thoughts. Naomi and Gabe were like close siblings to her. But Mateo was different, he was more closer at heart. Then, it clicked. Brother wasn't the right word for Mateo, a sweetheart was.

"I- I like Mateo!?" Elena unexpectedly blurted out causing Naomi, Luna, and Skylar to pause mid-conversation and stare wide-eyes at Elena.

Silence. Elena turned away immediately away as Naomi, Luna, and Skylar looked back and fourth at each other, trying to understand the situation that had just happened.

Elena shyly tucked a hair stand behind her ear and replied to clear the silence, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to say it out loud."

"Sorry!? This is great!!" Naomi excitedly jumped to her feet and pulled Elena up as well and hugged her tightly.

"Uh, how? I just realized that I liked Mateo and never noticed til' now but- what if he doesn't feel the same way?" Elena replied and realized if Mateo didn't like her back, she might ruin their close friendship and it would hurt her very deeply.

"Elena", Naomi started. "Don't think that, I know Mateo for a long time and he's changed because of you."

"Yea! And he's more happy when he's around you." Luna happily added on.

"So you three think Mateo likes me too?" Elena asked her three friends who nodded in response.

Skylar walked up and pressed his nose against her hand in an affectionate rub, "Don't worry princesa, you're gonna see how lucky you are to have Mateo as your love, he's one of a kind just like you. So it's a perfect match!"

"Aww, thank you Skylar." Elena pressed her hand against Skylar's head and scratched in that spot behind Skylar's ears that would make Skylar melt to the ground. But before Skylar could even bend down..

"Okay! I have my last gift! Elena, are you still closing your eyes?" The same boy the four were just talking about came around the corner, clutching a wrapped gift to his chest, walking to them.

All four of them stood still as statues and hurriedly sat down in their places as they were. Mateo came at the right time to see them still in their places, Mateo's gaze shifted to Elena, his smile widened and the gift was clutched even closer to his chest as if he was protecting it with his life.

"You can open your eyes now Elena." Mateo said quietly as he placed a hand on Elena's shoulders as she opened her eyes and stared into his warm hazel eyes.

Naomi, Luna, and Skylar were watching from a distance and continued to watch as their anticipation grew rapidly.

"Hi", Elena greeted simply with a sunshine smile and continued, "So what you'd bring me Mateo?"

"Haha, you really can't wait can you?"

"Well, when you wake up to a beautiful Valentine's Day card at your door and scavenger hunt from a secret admirer who happens to be their closest best friend, who could hold their excitement?"

"I guess, ok. Here you go." Mateo handed Elena his wrapped gift, though Elena still kept her gaze at Mateo.

"Um, Elena?" Mateo asked, obviously noticing her stare.

"Hm- what?" Elena blushed and turned her gaze away from Mateo immediately.

"Aren't you gonna open the gift?" Mateo said pointing to his gift in her arms.

"O-oh, yes." Elena slowly untied the golden ribbon and opened the red wrapping paper to reveal a clear turquoise glass box with something inside. She looked at Mateo to see him waiting patiently for her to open the last layer to her gift. Elena carefully lifted the glass lid to reveal a beautiful gold necklace and bracelet with rare blue Maruvian crystals surrounded by the precise gold details. She gaped at the beautiful jewelry that was obviously hand made since each jewelry had painted on details and meaningful sentences written on them in Mateo's handwriting.

'Te amo Elena, así que estas son para que recuerdes a tu mejor amigo, ya que siempre estaré a tu lado hasta el final.' Elena read in her mind as she could feel tears of joy, just threatening to spill out. (Translated version: 'I love you Elena, so these are for you to remember your best friend, as I will always be by your side until the end.' )

Elena collected all her strength to stand up and stare into his warm hazel eyes. Her heart in her throat as she tried to come up with her own Elena-like confession.

Are- are you okay Elena? Did I do something wrong?" Mateo now concern at her tear-filled eyes and her trembling body, asked.

"I- I love you too." Elena said with her voice constricted with emotions as tears of joy flowed freely down her cheeks. She lunged forward, hugging Mateo tightly and buried her tear-covered face in his neck. Breathing in his cinnamon spice, herb scent probably from the ingredients he used for his potions. Instantly feeling warm from head to toe and safe in the arms of the person she -- now knows -- is helplessly in love with who loved her back just as much.

Mateo released the breath he hadn't realized he held and return the embrace with a comforting squeeze of his own, resting his cheek on her hair.

he other three watched the couple as their hearts warmed at the sight tremendously.

"So, are we together now?" Mateo asked, not that he was bothered by the comforting silence around them, just for reassurance.

"Mhmm", Elena hummed in content as she pulled back from the hug to bring her hand up to caress his face before planting a soft, lingering kiss to Mateo's lips. Snaking her arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer than they already are. Mateo being himself, exceeded her actions as always and kissed her with his own soft yet passionate kiss. His hands finding their way to Elena's waist, making Elena squeak a little as Mateo pulled her flush against him. As if in response, her hands moved from his neck to tangled in his brown chestnut curls, feeling each curls between her fingers. The two of them slowly but surely, lose themselves in their 'first kiss'. Everything around them disappeared as the only thing they see -- or feel really -- was them.

"I don't think we should be witnessing this." Skylar whispered to Naomi as he tried to look everywhere but the kissing couple who seemed to be in their own private world.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad. But let's go inside, I want to give them their 'privacy ' ", Naomi grinned as she walked with Skylar and Luna back inside the palace.

After what it seemed to be an eternity, Elena pulled back to meet his eyes as they touched foreheads together, still in each others arms.

"I love you so much Mateo", Elena said breathlessly and laid her head on his shoulder.

"And I, you mi amor." Mateo replied and tightened his arms around her. Elena grinned at the name Mateo was calling her as it brought warm thrilling shivers down her spine.

"It's getting pretty late, we should head back inside. We have a lot to talk about and I'd rather get more comfortable don't you think mi querido?" Elena asked, sliding her hands down Mateo's arm, leaving goosebumps on his arm while batting her eyelashes in a flirty way. Locking her seductive gaze at Mateo who blushed in response as warm chills were going though his spine like a rapid river who's dam had just been broken down.

"As you wish mi amor," Mateo offering his arm to his princess.

'This- This feels so right and amazing!', Elena thought as she took his arm and went inside the palace to her suite. Right after they cleaned up and dropped off the basket in the kitchen. Elena decided to walk off on her own pondering her thoughts while Mateo cleaned up.

Naomi crept up on Elena and asked, "So how was your time with Mateo, hmm?"

Elena sighed dreamily before continuing, "It was wonderful."

"I want to hear about all the details! But after you get comfortable in bed with your prince charming." Naomi smirked as she saw Elena blushed.

"Y-yea."

"Okay, I'm done cleaning up. Now shall we go up mi querida?" Mateo called up.

"Sure", Elena just realized what he called her and blushed. "Did you just call me querida?"

"Sure did" Mateo answered more confidently while wrapping an arm around Elena's shoulders in an affectionate embrace.

"Okay then mi querido, let's go to my room." Elena snuggled in his side as they continued walking up to her room.

Naomi smiled as the couple walked to their destination and walked off doing her stuff.

The couple had just reached to Elena's room as Mateo stepped forwards and held the door for Elena.

"Why thank you my handsome wizard." Elena fondly ruffled Mateo's hair as she walked in with him close.

"Yay! Bed time!" Elena eagerly said as Mateo laughed at her excitement for bed times, though not surprised since he knew she had lots of paper work to do as crown princess of Avalor. Elena got in bed, she patted the space next to her for Mateo to join in which he gladly complied. Once Mateo was seated on Elena's bed, she scooted closer and cuddled into Mateo's side, Mateo gladly welcomed Elena as he smoothed out her long black hair as a small intimate gesture.

"So Elena, what did you want to-" Mateo paused as he heard soft snoring and her slow breathing.

"Oh, I guess today was a tiring day." Mateo whispered to himself as he slowly slid down into the bed and clutched Elena close to his chest who moved and snuggled in his arms. The couple slept peacefully as Naomi ran to Gabe with Luna and Skylar following to explain what had happened today. Gabe felt extremely happy for the couple but understood why it must have been weird for Skylar to witnessed two people kissing.

"I mean, it wasn't that weird. It's just I don't see kissing as often." Skylar interjected.

"Sure, I've seen a lot of kissing happening during my travels outside and it's gotten me a bit uncomfortable as I've seen it happening more often."

"Oh hush you guard! It was adorable!" Naomi interjected.

"That's because you're a girl." Gabe retorted.

"Oh now you've gone and done it." Skylar muttered as he backed up from the situation.

"Excuse me?" Naomi looked offended.

"Yea Gabe, excuse me?" Luna added on staring at Gabe.

Upon realizing that he said something wrong, "Heheh, sorry?" Gabe smiled sheepishly and tried to run but the two girls grabbed him and dragged him to the closet where they locked him in.

"Hey! Let me out! I'm on night shift!"

Naomi and Luna fist bumped as they walked out with Skylar after sliding the key to the closet to Gabe.

"That'll teach ya a lesson to be careful with what you say Lieutenant Gabriel Nunez!" Naomi called back to Gabe and went to sleep as Skylar and Luna flew to their nests.

Elena snuggled into Mateo even closer if closer even existed anymore, Mateo's arms subconsciously wrapped Elena a bit tighter. In their peacefully slumber, Elena and Mateo dreamed about their future that they were gonna spend together and the story that they were going to write continuously. 'Together.'

#eleteo #cuddling #this took way longer than I'd hope #pfft #but it's totally worth it #valentine's day #2021 EoA Appreciation Week #I think I made this too long xD #oh well

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maiolica-admirer · 4 years

Text

Life beyond the chaotic gremlin

Nomura is a type of person where if you took her at face value, you would easily miss the facets that make up who she is beyond the "would totally stab you in your sleep" which while that is a big part of her character (Plus being a genuinely chaotic and sarcastic gremlin) there is more than that. And it all starts with the humble introduction.

When we first see her it is when she's selling the wonders of history that can be found in her fine establishment that despite it being a cover at no point... sounds fake. She really sounds like she loves this like a special interest, particularly by sneaking in a mention of her clear beloved renaissance era pottery, and it's coming from someone who has lived through it and still standing well enough to appreciate these creations humans have recorded and left behind over time. She's apparently oblivious to everyone but Eli's excitement and looks genuinely surprised when Strickler cuts her off before glaring at him. This is re-enforced later when she returns to the museum (Which I fudge earlier for this blog, natch) where that is very clearly not fake enjoyment. Left to her own devices she's enjoying the hell out of being back there again, checking the tapestries and setting up a new exhibit before Ursuna shows up. In the hilarious contrast to Strickler, she has a tendency towards the arts from these little snippets we're allowed to see while being the more battle hungry of the pair of them.

Lets face it, Nomura is an incredibly dangerous changeling if you have been chosen as a target. Specialising in the hunt and ambush, unsettling her target with a bit of dramatics (Changelings) and she is exceptionally good at it with bar one blip we know about before the series starts clearly put her in a high enough stead to protect THE Killahead Bridge. Someone stumbles over it somehow? Come hell or high water you know Nomura will terminate the problem as she will not accept anything less. Her fighting style focuses on using her twin khopesh as both defensive and very fast striking offense, abusing her natural agility for vaulting tactics and adapting to the battle arena, powerful kicks and she's completely unafraid to use her TEETH if that's what it takes to gain an advantage. From Unbecoming, "We better hurry, we're missing all the fun~" she seriously lives for this and the museum role is chill out time between doing a job she loves so very much. It gives me the impression of her loyalty being garnered through letting her go to town and a future dream of freedom that still allows her to do as she wishes. She's happy enough in that position and has no visible ambitions to go beyond that or being on Bular babysitting duty.

There is no love for humans either that much is clear, their things sure, but being Asian appearing even after women's rights came through little would have changed for her in the west. Humans just as racist as trolls, throw them under the damn bus for all she cares.

Her biggest weakness stems from this very thing however, namely that of her pride. She underestimated Jim (Understandably), immediately changed tactics when he got a strike on her just for the human Trollhunter to escape with his friend through sheer luck. Having to limp into the museum after being assailed by goblins, politely chastised by Strickler and having to scramble a way to keep her hide before Bular kills her? It's no wonder Jim ended up on her shit list for that one.

But did you notice what she did when she went after him the first time?

She left Barbara alone.

Nomura found out this was a single mother household (I do wonder if that slipped when at the police station or Strickler off handed mentioned how his school job was going) and acted accordingly so that the non-threat would not prevent her from for her going after her true enemy but also would not harm her (Physically) in the longer term. She very carefully planned this out using the angle of Barbara's expectations over the museum, the hospitality and yet again she likely would have succeeded in her hunt if not for unexpected circumstances in the form of Draal.

Draal is a whole THING and I want to dedicated an entire post to that.

The next big moment of course is when we see her in the Darklands after presuming she was killed after being sucked in there and we are witness to someone who's will is so horribly broken and gleefully mocks Jim's concept of a rescue and having hope as what the hell is that word to a changeling? She was "born" here, she will die here whenever the Warlord decides he's bored of punishment. She had literally been confronted with the harsh reality Strickler long figured out on his own of how the second they stop being useful they are disposable no matter what your reputation and prior deeds. That said, she goes and does something very out of character for her that really drives home how much of a mess she's in from having her dream crushed so utterly and becoming trapped more than ever before with a side order of beatings and torture.

Be it on a whim or out of sheer pity, she decides to help spare Jim's life.

And that! Is her turning point! And in her relationship with the Trollhunter!

They bond over things they miss from the surface, her love of the Peer Gynt play explaining why it's her hunting music and then the very strange notion that this idiotic child she has tried to murder repeatedly refuses to leave her behind when he gets out because it wouldn't be the right thing to do. It completely throws her as, why? Changelings will throw one another under to survive, hell humans do it too even without potential stabbing! She doesn't believe it for a second mind, but she lets him have his thoughts and concedes everyone needs hope in the Darklands as he's earned his right to have it.

It is even to the point she'll throw her life down in a fight so he'll live. That she'll fight Gunmar (!!) with a single blade to let them all get out of there including two trolls she definitely doesn't give a damn about and two kids she's likely only tolerating to keep in Jim's favour. To fall for a nice dream while it lasted and buy them time despite now on a broken fetlock too. She's a changeling, they don't deserve hope or chances. They can only think of a dream in the distant future and surviving the current day and this is the end of hers.

Then the weirdest thing happens. Jim keeps his promise and hauls them out of there instead of leaving her to die. Draal of all trolls that could do this it is probably the one that really would throw her for an even bigger loop than escaping the damn Darklands, offers her the kindness of his arm while she is at her most vulnerable and helps her away without any judgement.

To say her world got upended is a vast understatement.

~~~

[[WELL THE MUN WENT ON A BIT OF A TANGENT. I want to go on one about her relationship with Draal and her one with Strickler as well if that’s something peeps would be interested in at some point?]]

#From the archives - Headcanons

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luxexhomines · 5 years

Text

If the NDRV3 Characters each played an instrument...

Shuichi: The flute. The quiet kids play this. It’s beautiful and the tone can be thin or almost as full as a clarinet. Can’t you just see him playing this? Or maybe the recorder, that would also do nicely. They both can seem rather understated, but they make such beautiful sounds and colors.

Kaede: The piano would be a copout answer, so... the clarinet. Or percussion. The clarinet has a pretty full tone, but it’s not as brassy as the oboe. She could also pick up other percussive instruments, as the piano is pretty percussive (I mean, you literally strike notes. You have the freedom and liberty of a musician, but sometimes there’s only so much you can do before it’s not musical anymore). I can see her playing the drums or maybe the xylophone.

Kokichi: The trumpet. That was pretty easy. He would definitely play the loudest and most obnoxious instrument to annoy everyone within the vicinity. The poor second violas always get their ears blown out by the trumpets. Plus, the trumpet is easy to move around with and you could play while walking around, which gives him a greater attack range. Wait, what were we talking about again?

Kaito: The trombone. Just look at his long limbs. Nuff said.

Maki: The violin. Classic instrument. Most popular and one of the most competitive sections of the orchestra. There’s always too many auditioning. It’s gorgeous, yes, and versatile- but there’s a lot of great instruments out there. She probably picked it up for an assassin job. I think she’d be terrible at it, though. She’s probably also tone-deaf, which is a terrible trait for someone who plays the violin or other instruments you play with a bow. It’s not so much a problem if you play the piano.

Himiko: The viola. It’s an unpopular instrument in comparison to the violin, but it’s mellow and rich. It always gets the “isn’t that just a slightly bigger violin?” Well, yes and no. It’s a different instrument for a reason. Does it look just a little bigger? Yes. I think Himiko would play the viola because all instruments with a bow are still fitted to the player’s size so the fact that “it’s bigger than a violin” isn’t a concern. Her viola could be smaller than Maki’s violin, honestly. It’s often forgotten about, but it produces a great tone and quality. Himiko probably picked it, thinking it was a violin at first.

Tenko: The marimba. I definitely think Tenko would play a percussive instrument. The marimba is a physically intense instrument to play when the sequence of notes is fast and/or they’re spread far apart; you have to move around a lot in order to reach all of the keys and do it in the right rhythm. It’s almost like a dance, watching the player perform. You always have to be poised for the next notes. It would quite suit Tenko, who does martial arts, which requires a certain rhythm and intensity of its own.

Angie: The sitar. I know nothing about this instrument. But I can see Angie playing an instrument with strings, the sitar or maybe like a guitar, something that’s strummed. The look of the sitar matches her aesthetic, and you can also have sitar metal, which is perfect for Angie. She’d probably have sitar rave sessions.

Gonta: The gong. He has too much strength to really be able to master some of the other instruments, especially ones that could be warped from his grip. He’s a gentle giant who controls his strength quite well, but I think if he’s focused on something else, he may forget. The gong is like...well, you have one job. Maybe you need to do it two more times in the piece? You better not mess it up, though, is all I’m saying.

Rantaro: The cello. He’s a suave guy, and the cello is a suave instrument. It’s very cool, in my opinion. Never met someone who didn’t like listening to the cello. Even if you never listen to classical music, it was probably in the background of your pop music or whatever weeby anime or game OST you listen to. The cello produces very rich and light tones. It’s like the king of the bowed instruments, in my opinion. It’s the instrument closest in range to the human voice. Its image really matches Rantaro.

Miu: The voice. I can’t imagine Miu having the patience to sit down and really learn an instrument and practice. She’d probably complain about how it’s a waste of time, anyhow. But her voice is part of her, so it could be pretty easy for her to dabble in it now and then and get interested in what she is capable of. The gorgeous girl genius, am I right?

Ryoma: The triangle. The bass. I think he’d like to mellow out and play something simple. He’s a sports guy with an appreciation for music, but some of it goes over his head. Otherwise, I imagine him playing the bass. It would be one of the tiniest basses ever, but for some reason, I imagine him loving jazz and plucking those strings. The bass is the biggest and you actually have to stand most of the time when you play it.

Kiibo: The triangle. I crossed out the previous part because...eh. Ryoma can handle it. Not so sure about Kiibo. He’s as weak as an elderly person, so he can’t do anything with too much physical exertion. The triangle is perfect for him. Something not too stimulating, and he can count beats and chime in at just the right time. He’d probably tell other people they were a quarter beat too early if someone else did it.

Korekiyo: The piano. Bitch, please. Look at those long fingers. They were made to play the piano. That’s all.

Kirumi: The piano and the violin. She’s the Ultimate Maid, so she probably plays all of them alright. But the piano and violin are appropriate instruments to perform in a formal setting and the piano is the perfect accompaniment to idle chatter. You can never go wrong with that if you’re playing something refined and classy for your guest before you have dinner with them.

Tsumugi: The clarinet. I know, I know, the same instrument I chose for Kaede. But I failed to mention something, which is that the clarinet is the instrument people choose in middle school when they can’t make a sound on any other instrument because their lungs are too weak. Thus, you get a lot of average people playing the clarinet. Tsumugi is rather average. Otherwise, I like to think she’d play a saxophone, maybe an alto saxophone. I see her playing jazz.

Don’t attack me because I actually don’t know as much about instruments I don’t play ie. any instrument except piano and the voice thanks very much

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bangtan-gal · 5 years

Text

By the Book

Kim Doyoung x Fem!Reader

Soulmate!AU Tutor!AU College!AU

Warnings: fluff, angst, I think there’s swearing lol?

Word count: 2.5k

“Just get a tutor already.” Your mom’s voice crackled over the receiver. You sighed, leaning against the wall and pressing your phone tighter to your ear. The coffee mug you held had gone cold, the forty minute conversation giving you no time to enjoy it. Your gaze darted towards the swaying trees outside your window and then to the cars zooming along the highway.

“But tutors are expensive,” you huffed, setting the mug down on your counter. The dark brown liquid sloshed sadly in the blue mug as you walked away. Your calculus class was in forty minutes and you weren’t even remotely ready for the day.

“They don’t have to be a professional, honey. Just go to your professor, I’m sure there are students in your class or other classes that are willing to do it cheap or for free,” she replied, her voice cutting up. You groaned, that was the last thing you wanted, to have to deal with the pretentious idiots at your school for longer than necessary. “And plus, they’re not broke college students, they won’t need your money.”

“Thanks mom,” you grumbled, making your way into your room. “I gotta go. Tell dad hi for me.”

“Love you!”

“Love you too,” you whispered, pressing the button. You didn’t give yourself time to gloom as you quickly threw on your clothes and tried to look decent for the day.

The walk to campus was annoyingly boring as always. The same cottonwood trees, the same expensive cars zooming past you, and the same, obnoxiously loud dog shrieking at you as you passed in front of a large white house. You didn’t necessarily hate your school—the professors were amazing and you were on a full ride scholarship—but it was more of the other students there. They all drove Lamborghinis that they hadn’t even worked for and wore clothes that they bought with their parents’ cards.

You were lucky the school even accepted you.

You stepped into the lecture hall ten minutes early, nervously approaching your professor’s desk. It took her a second to notice you and when she did, a tired smile fell on her lips. Dark circles could be seen behind her thick-rimmed glasses and her face was makeupless.

“Y/N, what can I do for you?” She queried, sliding her coffee out of the way.

“Um… I was curious about getting a tutor for this class?” You murmured, your voice quieting as you got further into the request. The woman nodded, pulling her graying hair from her face as she searched through her desk. She pulled out a yellow sheet of paper with several neatly printed names and numbers on it. Her gaze scanned over it before she paused with a soft ‘aha!’

“I don’t think he’s busy,” she mumbled to herself, before turning the page over to you, tapping her pen beside a name. “Kim Doyoung, I believe he’s a year or two above you. Very smart and has successfully brought up a lot of others’ grades before. Although I have to warn you… he’s kind of a smartass. He can be hard to work with at times…”

You stared at the name and number for a second.

Then you pursed your lips; you really needed to get a higher grade in this class.

Your hands shook as you entered his number into you phone. You sat through the rest of class in silence, taking as many notes as possible and forcing yourself to focus on the lecture itself. As class ended and you softly thanked her for the number, you forced yourself to be accepting of this boy. You had no idea who he was, but thinking of him as some rich boy toy before you even met him wasn’t a good idea.

You spent the rest of the day quietly in your apartment, flipping through your mom’s cookbook to see if you could cook anything in it. You called some friends from home and then worked on your historical art essay. Then when you found it impossible to distract yourself from the inevitable, you reached for your phone. You stared at the contact for a while before slowly typing in a text.

‘Hi! This is Y/N. Prof. Mutihl gave me your number. I’m in her Calculus class and I’ve been looking for a tutor.’

‘This is Doyoung, right?’

You oozed awkwardness.

You groaned after you read the text for the thirtieth time. You definitely weren’t an expert at texting strangers. All you hoped for was him to text you back willingly. Your desperation for that grade was high and you’d probably hunt him down if he didn’t reply.

Hours passed and there was still no reply. You found yourself losing hope as the sun set and the neighborhood started to quiet down.The night went on and you slowly sunk into your english presentation. You were several pages deep when a light flashed in your dimly lit room. Your phone screen shone against the wall, a quiet ding disrupting your restful humming.

The phone was warm in your hand as you picked it up. Two message notifications sat on the homescreen, both from a Kim Doyoung. It was nearly 2 AM and you snorted; obviously you weren’t the only one obsessing over something.

‘Yeah, this is Doyoung.’

‘Sorry it took so long to respond, my friends forced me to go out to the bar with them. I’m free whenever, so whatever works best for you we’ll have to go over your goals and then work out a schedule.’

You read over the text, a jittery smile flickering over your lips. He was down to earth and didn’t remind you of the several airheads you’d met here.Then you snorted; you hadn’t even met him and you were already assuming he would be better than the rest. You stretched out, reaching for your phone.

“Sorry, Doyoung, but trust is a fragile thing.” ➻➻➻➻➻

It was a cloudy Friday when you stumbled into the library. You wandered further in, looking around in wonder. You hadn’t been here once in your time here and that was just because you were too stubborn to breathe the same air as the other students here. It was grand, just like the rest of the school, but more antique. The library smelled old and you could imagine if you cracked open a book, the pages would be yellowing and maybe there would be dust.

You loved it.

Despite wanting to explore the shelves, you forced yourself to stay focused. You looked around for the study rooms and once you found them, you looked for room 213. It took a while, but the room sat in the far back with clean glass walls. A boy sat at one of the tables, straight black hair shimmering under the bright lights. His face was slim, with a thin, straight nose. His eyes were closed, cheek resting in his hand and as you squeaked the door open, you realized he was asleep.

You pursed your lips as you approached.

And then you poked his shoulder, hard.

He jumped and you prayed that it was Doyoung.

“Er… Kim Doyoung?” You hoped. He looked up at you, blinking and then started nodding.

“Yeah, yeah that’s me,” he said, a nervous chuckle over-shadowing his words, “Y/N?”

You nodded and then sat down across from him. He smiled and adjusted himself in the chair, leaning forward across the table. Almost eagerly. His smile was slightly lopsided and as he moved, his hair fell along his forehead. The sunlight shone against his skin and the pale color glowed brightly.

“Okay, so let’s talk about your goals,” he started, grabbing a notebook. He opened it and flipped through until he landed on a page that already had rows of ink on it. It was your name along with several organized sections that were probably going to be filled soon.

“I need an A and I won’t settle for less,” you stated, straightening up in your seat. His smile grew at that and he looked up as you, eyes sparkling.

“Fabulous,” he murmured, quickly taking notes. You noticed that he wrote more than you said, but you didn’t pry as you grabbed your calculus textbook, slamming it on the table in front of you. “You’re probably the first person I’ve had who actually knows what they want and will get it.”

He was silent for a moment as he scratched a few more notes onto the paper.

“And that’s honestly amazing.”

The two of you exchanged few words of casualty as you immediately started your first tutoring session. Doyoung was good, you picked that up right away. He was quick too, figuring out exactly where you were and what you were struggling. You tried not to be judgemental but as the session continued, you oddly found nothing to be too annoyed by. The professor’s words of him being sassy made no sense, because he smiled the whole time and was nicer to you that you were to him.

After thirty minutes, the two of you agreed to take a break. You wiggled your fingers, wincing at the cramps that had collected from how tightly you held the pencil. Your neck hurt a little bit and the library chairs weren’t exactly comfortable.

“What are you majoring in?” “Um… well I’m hoping to be in the biomedical field,” you whispered, “and if I’m going to get accepted into the program next year, I need to get a good grade on this as well as a few other classes.”

Doyoung laughed slightly, nodding in understanding.

“Yeah, I… I tried to get into the nursing program, but it didn’t go as planned. Now I’m in accounting and business,” he sighed, mindlessly doodling in his notebook.

“Not what you wanted to do?” You guessed sarcastically.

“Mhmmm.”

“Why don’t you just retake the test?” “My parents aren’t supportive of it; they’re actually happy I failed so now I can take over the family business when I’m older,” he explained, looking up at you. You stared at him, maybe shocked because that wasn’t what you were expecting. You were thinking he would say something about having more freedom with money in that field. Your gaze dropped and you felt a sudden graciousness towards your parents and they’re support for you.

You couldn’t imagine what that was like.

“And I’m assuming there’s no going against them?”

He shook his head. “Believe me, I wish, but at this point I’ve accepted it. There’s no escape from the family life plan.”

The laugh that followed was bitter.

Obviously not wanting to talk about it anymore, Doyoung started up the session again. It was tense and awkward and you found him to be a bit more snippy than before. You didn’t reply to his little bites and just kept focused on the work he gave you. Once the hour was up, the two of you packed up quietly and then left the room side by side.

“Well, I’ll see you on Tuesday. It was… nice meeting you,” Doyoung murmured, reaching out a hand. You murmured ‘likewise’ quietly and then went to shook his hand. Both of you froze the second your hands connected, memories that weren’t yours racing through your mind.

You jumped back, clutching your hand tightly to your chest, but the memories remained. They were definitely Doyoung’s, some of them recent and others of a tiny version of him. His eyes bore into yours, jaw dropping open as his hand stayed where it was. Your heart raced as you stared at him.

“Sorry, gotta go, bye!” You shrieked and then raced off.

“Mom, I don’t know! But it definitely wasn’t my memories… they were—they were his memories and they still won’t go away! And it’s weird because at this point I can like, like I can pick through them and see certain ones and I’m afraid of stumbling upon something that I don’t want to see or something private that I shouldn’t see!” You cried into the phone, pacing around your living room. Your mom’s voice was muffled as she said something to someone else and then you heard a hearty sigh flutter through the receiver.

“Honey? I need you to take a deep breath,” she directed. You did so, trying to get control of the way your hands shook and how your heart was pounding abnormally loud. “Look, I need you to stay calm for me, alright? I got my old book ou—”

“You don’t think—”

“Honestly? I don’t know, but I need you to shut up and listen”—you did as you were told, clamping your mouth shut—“I mean, it doesn’t sound like any soulmate connection I’ve ever heard of, but even after two thousand years, we’re still finding new connections. So, once you touched, his memories flooded your mind and we can only assume that yours did the same to him, and even after you let go, they wouldn’t go away?”

“Yes,” you squeaked out, sitting down on the couch. You could hear the faint sound of pages desperately turning. Your mom mumbled to herself as she read over something and then the line seemed to go dead. “Hello?”

“Honey, I think you need to talk to that boy.”

➻➻➻➻➻

“Your mom was a soulmate therapist for several years?” He asked, stirring the straw around his water. Doyoung could barely look at you, his eyes focused on your shoulders rather than your face.

“Eleven exactly,” you huffed, “but… I mean, she said it was definitely a connection. She couldn’t find it in her book, but she read about something similar to it and I guess common sense suggests—”

“—that we’re soulmates,” he finished for you. The two of you were quiet for a moment as you both tried to mull that over. Of course it made sense, random things like that don’t just happen. You weren’t sure how to feel, it was almost like it hadn’t hit yet. Were you scared? Excited?

Despite your mother being a soulmate therapist—Soulmate Connection Specialist specifically—you had never really paid attention to that. You were always focused on your dreams that didn’t involve love. Success, recognition, and maybe some form of happiness. You never had a view on soulmates, they were just a thing that existed in your life but you never completely acknowledged it.

“Well… I mean, are you happy about this?” You whispered finally.

Doyoung looked up quickly.

“Of course I am… it’s just, random I guess? Of course… I guess it’s random for everyone. I dunno, I’m just trying to figure this out—what about you?” He asked.

You paused for a second, eyes focusing on the way he played with the straw in his cup.

“I-I think I am happy about it,” you mumbled, thinking of how your heart raced and your uneven breathing. How your face was slightly red around him now and how there was a small smile playing on your face the whole time.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, “I am.”

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dandequill · 5 years

Text

novel prep tag: blackbird

i was tagged for this by @magicalwriting! thank you so much!

in this tag, there are a lot of questions going in-depth about the wip in question (i’m choosing blackbird) and because of the detail i must warn that it’s rather long! also, because i’m still rather new here, i don’t really know many people to tag, so I’m just going to pick a few at random from my followers:

@three-seas-writes @the-moving-finger-writes @rewrit @anika-writes @spirit-of-helimire

and so we begin!

first look

describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

maria quintana (vain, moody, and a loser) and ingrid piuma (owner of one outfit, carefree, and also a loser) clash paths when on the run from a stuck-up aunt and stuck-up sister, respectively. they hit it off and have a lot in common, or so it seems; maria is yet to learn of the complex web of holy curses, familial trauma, and quest to halt an impending magical catastrophe which sets ingrid apart from her.

how long do you plan for your novel to be?

i don’t have much in the way of a length-goal for the novel in particular, but more generally i think the story could work well as a duology, with one story focused on maria and the other on ingrid.

what’s your novel’s aesthetic?

ooo, that’s a fun one. i have a pinterest board which does a decent job of encapsulating it, but think along the lines of gritty detective drama meets urban fantasy meets sweet sapphic romance.

what other stories inspired your novel?

the very earliest, basic idea of kids hunting a sleeping magical figure came from the raven cycle, but the story has spiralled drastically beyond that since then so the link has become very, very tenuous. other influences include fairy tales such as fitcher’s bird (+ a variety of other ‘rescued by the sister’ types).

share 3+ images that give a feel for the novel

as mentioned prior, there is a pinterest board with more images, but here are a few favourites i have selected:

main characters

who is your protagonist?

i consider maria and ingrid to be joint-protagonists, so here is a brief run down of both-

maria quintana:

- naive + sheltered; not much experience with the world beyond her hometown, so being forced to spend her summer in a big city in a foreign country isn’t exactly her idea of a good time

- daughter of two artists who rebelled against their families to be together; they want her to be better, she wants to be the same, and her cold-hearted aunt wants to warp her into something else entirely

- tall hipster lesbian gf

ingrid merlero piuma:

- laid-back + ‘eccentric’; changed entirely by the death of her mother a year before the events of the novel to become more aloof and self-focused, motivated by spite for her father

- middle of three sisters, all of whom have an agenda against their tyrannical father and rebel in different ways; she uses laziness as a weapon to diminish his control over her

- short punk bisexual gf

who is their closest ally?

maria and ingrid act as each other’s allies, plus a small gaggle of strange boys maria ends up living across the hall from (matei, evan, sal + dajuan) and ingrid’s sisters, sirena (elder) and jordana (younger)

who is their main enemy?

maria’s personal enemy is her aunt arabella, who drags her away to a highly academic summer school in a distant city in the hopes to mould maria in her own image (what maria actually gains from this trip is a quirky girlfriend and intimate experience with the darker strains of magic); ingrid’s primary enemy is her father, whom she suspects of being involved in dubious criminal activity as well as more generally being a control-obsessed patriarch; the sleeping sorcerer at the heart of said dubious criminal activity is the eventual enemy for both.

what do they want more than anything?

maria wishes to follow her own heart and desires unhindered, living a romanticised version of life in which she avoids all pitfalls and suffering; ingrid wishes to move into her own place and not have to worry about generational curses any more.

why can’t they have it?

maria, as one might guess, is more entrenched in fantasy than reality, and has yet to understand that reality is more complex than what she desires and therefore she can never live entirely free of hurt; ingrid’s father is into some dodgy stuff and she and her sisters feel an obligation to stop him from hurting anyone else before they get on with their own lives

what do they wrongly believe about themselves?

maria believes she is infallible and untouchable, beyond the touch of the harsh realities of life which affect everyone around her; ingrid feels obliged to act as a saviour and impede every one of her father’s schemes, as well as having a myriad of self-esteem and confidence issues stemming from the trauma of her father’s emotional abuse and manipulation

draw your protagonist! (or share a description)

whoops i may do digital art but i am yet to draw either of these babes-

maria: lanky lady (5”11), hispanic-coded (story set in a fantasy world, not real world), the fluffiest hair imaginable on a human being, eyes that she considers dull and pebble-y but which ingrid cornily compares to the pristine cuorren sea, freckles everywhere, makes and patchily mends her own clothes to imitate her parents’ messy artfulness

ingrid: short queen (5”4-5), hispanic-coded with a slightly darker complexion than maria, shoulder-length black hair (often twisted back into the smallest ponytail on the face of the earth), lighter green eyes, also peppered with freckles, wears the same plain jeans and shirt everywhere, every day, much to the chagrin of maria

plot points

what is the internal conflict?

maria must come to terms with the harsh realities of life and the flawed way in which she sees the world; ingrid must overcome family-related trauma and not project her pain onto maria

what is the external conflict?

maria’s family conflict with her aunt; ingrid’s struggle against her father; the eventual conflict with the (no longer) sleeping sorcerer

what is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

maria could have her romanticised illusions of life shattered suddenly and horrifically as opposed to broken down gradually (ie a sudden tragedy befalling herself, ingrid, her parents); ingrid could be forever trapped by something or someone even after she escapes her father, cursed to never have her own personal freedom

what secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

i haven’t settled on the specifics yet, but it will be ingrid revealing one of her many personal secrets to maria in a way that completely changes maria’s view of her and, subsequently, their relationship; this could be the death of ingrid’s mother, the abuse from her father, her father’s madness and obsession with the sleeping sorcerer, or another, slightly smaller secret

do you know how it ends?

i have revised a few potential endings, but am yet to pick on the specifics; so far it is still a vague idea

what is the theme?

found family, fantasy vs reality, personal freedom vs duty to community, different types of love and relationship, death and mortality

what is a recurring symbol?

imagery of birds may be stereotypical, but it’s my favourite, and features heavily in a novel called ‘blackbird’ (this... should not be surprising) - different birds are associated with different characters and relationships, and are used to signal/foreshadow events attached to their respective characters. blackbirds themselves are attached to ingrid.

where is the story set? (share a description!)

the name of the city where it’s set is cuorren, which i once described to a friend as ‘seaside rome with a gang problem’ - here are a few images i assembled on the pinterest board which have inspired the setting:

do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

i know the opening scenes more or less off by heart; i also have maria + ingrid’s first kiss, the first time maria visits ingrid’s troubled house, and a few other cutesy scenes of them together (i... should probably write more off this story beyond romantic escapades...)

what excites you about this story?

the themes are very important to me personally and i love that i get to express them through the medium of sapphic romance and dark fantasy, two of my greatest joys in life!

tell us about your usual writing method!

it doesn’t exist

uhhh... i have a planning document on the go and the first few scenes set out, but honestly every time i try to write beyond them, i panic and feel like i don’t know what i’m doing and go back to the plan. so i guess that makes me a planner over a pantser. which, believe me, has not always been true!

if you have made it this far into the post, thank you so much for reading! i hope this has been a good insight into my favourite of my three projects.

- m.b.

#writeblr #new writeblr #writer tag #writers on tumblr #novel prep tag #blackbird wip

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blankdblank · 5 years

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The Cabin

Day 8!! - Here’s a slightly dramatic Modern AU Thranduil ramble :D

*You are sitting around a campfire. There are stars shining in the sky. Someone asks “If you had the power to change one person’s life, how would you do it?”*

…

“I am gonna burst,” You squeaked in the middle of the third landing between endless flight of steps to your eighth floor apartment making you sigh and say, “Hot pants it is.” Rushing to the heavy door you crashed through it and bit your lip gripping your bag that had split hours earlier in your bow legged trot to the seventh door on the left. A frantic knock on the yellow door was followed by equally as frantic shuffling and a loud thud mingled with a string of curses until the door flung open and the wide eyed towering blonde behind the door stared at you. “Hot pants man,”

Heavily he sighed muttering, “That was a costume, I was mint green.”

You nodded and bounced in place making him look you over curiously, “Green hot pants man, ya, I usually don’t do this, but the elevator’s out and I’m not going to make it another five flights of stairs, can I use your bathroom?”

Smirking at you awkwardly he stepped back pointing at the open door opposite the open kitchen, “Straight through there.”

You nodded and rushed over to it dropping your bag on the blanket and clothes covered couch earning a loud groan form under the now shifting blob making you trot around the couch and straight to the bathroom, “So sorry, gotta go.” The door closed and the dark haired Elf with a knotted half afro hanging into his face glared at his roommate standing by the door angered at being woken.

Thranduil moved closer to him harshly whispering as you flicked on the water to mask your fumbling disrobing mess of a self and bursting dam of a bladder you felt coming, “It’s squirtle girl, and you will not embarrass me like last time!”

“I did not embarrass-,”

His mouth was covered and a finger was pointed at him while he eyed Thranduil’s dark thick brows lifting over his momentary irritated pout, “Elrond, I swear! Last time you told her I’d been looking for a squirter my whole life! She went months without talking to me! Months! Now you will be polite and say nothing!”

Thranduil’s hand lowered and his brows twitched up at the emphasizing point making Elrond smirk and lay back down covering himself again at the flush. A few moments later you were out again when the tap turned off and flashed Thranduil a weak grin when he shot up fidgeting with the ties on the sweats around his waist subconsciously flexing in your stolen glance at his shirtless self. The grin on his face twisted realizing his hair was in a bun on top of his head and he had a face mask on to help ease his dry skin after being in heavy make up for his play role for the past few weeks. “Thank you, again,” Rounding the couch you lifted your bag and patted the ankle of the Elf under the covers, “So sorry.”

Elrond raised his arm from under the covers to give a silent wave stirring a curious grin onto your face as his arm fell down lifelessly again. Again looking up he looked you over watching your mint green highlighted white curl filled loose bun shifting in the tilt of your head to lock your silvery green eyes on his icy blue pair after his glance over your pink leotard under a grey tilted baggy t shirt long enough to be like a dress with black leg warmers in a tilt from your clear rush from your usual lunch after rehearsals for your show. “Your show’s on Thursday, right?”

You nodded, “Ya, double show,” he chuckled awkwardly as you looked over his face again, “Well I can’t wait, we got tickets,” Your brows inched up and he turned his head to the ringing phone Elrond raised his arm to pat around for the receiver he pulled under the covers.

“Hello?”

Wetting your lips you replied, “Ya, I’ve seen your show too. It’s really good. Your part too.”

“I dance with a guy in an Elk costume.” He playfully retorted making Elrond chuckle behind his hand remembering the act popping up seven times in the two hour long play.

You nodded sending your bun bobbing making him smirk at a strip of curls breaking loose across your face you blew away only for it to swing back into your face, “I doubt anybody could get that shimmy jete combo down like you,” making him mouth scrunch up and his head tilt back in a sharp inhale to hide his embarrassment.

Elrond mumbled, “No, we’re not going to the pool party.”

At that you gasped saying, “Pool party, shit!” Turning you grabbed your bag saying, “Sorry, I promised I’d go and bring one of those stupid inflatable flamingos, which I have to buy…”

Thranduil said, “Turin’s shop has some! Elrond call him,” he leapt over the couch parting your lips in his rush to his bedroom, “Meet you in the lobby in twenty!”

Elrond peeked out from under the covers and you glanced at him with brows raised and waved then pointed to the door, “Guess, I’ll be, going…” He nodded, “Again, sorry,”

He shook his head and hung up the phone to dial Turin’s number, “Not a problem.”

…

That was how it began, a masterful friendship, keyword, friendship. A lap top seat offered by your cousin and an advance from a highly flirtatious brunette. The mistake was cleared up within a month but by then there was a third date planned, so friends you remained with his hope that things might change before long. Though somehow it always seemed that you were trains just barely missing one another in the station of life. All through art school and into the beginnings of your careers your lives blended together and a solid support system was formed no matter what.

It was clear for all to see how evident the love was there and after nights out together in your hectic schedules with his acting jobs, your dancing and Elrond’s makeup and special effects careers led you both together and apart to mingle with the rest of your group. Relationships came and went, for the men at least. Elrond, Glorfindel and Elros all settled into their own relationships while Thranduil slammed hard into absolute enamor-ment with his girlfriend quickly leading them to an engagement.

From one wedding to another you claimed your seat and ignored the stares of those around you when your plus one was never claimed. You weren’t alone, you just didn’t want to bring another one of your dates the guys always hounded to their special days, group dinners once a month was enough. They weren’t bad guys, they were wonderful, from doctors to a trio of firemen you had happened across in your very safety conscious part of town you lived in across from their usual lunch spots, they just never seemed to be ready to commit, something you never pushed on because if you were honest you weren’t either. At least not with them.

Panic flooded Thranduil and all the way through the planning for the big day it only got worse and it wasn’t until he was ready to throw his tie he couldn’t secure that Elros grabbed him and claimed the tie from Glorfindel saying, “Don’t take it out on the tie that you proposed to the wrong woman.”

Thranduil’s lips parted in a scoff and Elrond added in fixing the buttons over his middle on the tailed jacket, “Come on now, you dated her to make Tiny jealous when you didn’t know the guy she was with was her cousin.”

Thranduil, “I love-,”

Glorfindel, “We’re not saying you don’t love Kiki, we’re saying you love Tiny more.”

Those words echoed in his mind, for twenty four years since that wedding, where his wife should have been the one cast in moonlight in a sea of glowing petals in a melodic choir slow motion agonizing sea of flashbacks replaying through the entirety of his marriage.

He did love her, and he was faithful to her. He was the best Husband a woman could ask for both when he was home and when things had to go long distance when his roles took him away from her. She had her freedom as did he and he encouraged her in her avant-garde art shows until she made a name for herself in that world easing her mildly hidden jealousy of his fame to a low simmer until he helped use his name to help build up the attendance on her shows.

Her jealousy though never did cease when your name came up and from a single mention to Elrond’s wife Celebrian on her thinking of saying something to Thranduil about him having to choose between you that single scoff in their early dating years made it clear who would win. Your shows were non negotiable, your group visits she tolerated that when you were in the room he would be focused on learning more about the changes in your life. It bothered her, at first, but then even she saw it, you were staying away for her, there was little physical contact to none and never pushing any visits or anything close to something that could change any future plans except for five times, and each time was offered to her, not him. Clearly you knew the rules, who had the ring and who had won his heart and after a few years of hearing how little family you had even she had begun to believe that you had thought of your group as family.

Twenty four years however was a long run, and was nothing to be scoffed at, in fact the weight of it hurt all the more as the stress of her career and time apart from Thranduil had sent her into the arms of another. It wasn’t just another fling, it was a slow burn over the years with the gallery owner who showed her art, a shoulder for her when her façade broke before a show. A decade now all she wanted was to complete their perfect life, yet a lazy ovary and a hard kept schedule for her fertility with his latest string of six month filming jobs halfway across the world between two month tiny tv spots only worsened the matters.

A positive pregnancy test however was finally achieved, though only after they had decided to sleep apart to calm down and try to return to their relationship outside of the sexual and reproductive side while they approached having a family through a surrogate and a donor egg. A family friend, Hobbit no less, had gotten the pregnant results without trying it seemed and that must have ticked a switch in Kiki’s lazy ovary, because after eight months of sleeping apart she faced the horrifying aspect of sharing that she had her perfect man and little family she always wanted.

To his credit Thranduil took it well, she had seen him angry, she had seen him furious and outside a twitch of his eyebrow he remained almost painfully calm in the whole matter. The papers were easily drawn up, they had kept separate accounts and all that was left was the house, which they both hated the neighbors in so he kept the deed to the new house they had bought and she had followed through to moving in with her new man to start planning their nursery. All together twenty four years was neatly wrapped up in the minimum two months the courts had demanded, and the dream crib she had wanted was achieved all the easier with a big bow alongside a pair of tickets for the cruise she had always wanted to go on for her and her new fiancé. The perfect husband, and the perfect ex, she wanted a baby, husband home each night and a lovely home perfectly furnished to invite friends and family over to, with her art to escape into.

“I’m Pregnant.” The words he had wanted to hear for so long, and yet in his mind, he had been home for eight months and had been away for five before that. Clearly it wasn’t his and with how hard it had been to try and schedule nights to conceive and he really didn’t need to hear who it was, he could tell she had leaned on him. A grin here and there when saying his name, just how she had once said his, he never pushed her away from him, after all how fair would that be when his heart had been breaking over making himself lose you. He had to honor his commitment though, and never make her pay for what she didn’t ask for.

At the table he inhaled and simply stood almost making her flinch if not for his turn away to the office nearby, from which he brought out a pad and pen. All the details were drafted out and for three hours everything was listed and each room was divided to his and hers ending with the arrival of their lawyers that had been called at the beginning of it. To their shock it was already drawn up on legal pads and all that was left was to have it officially printed and for her lawyer to drive her to her new home to share the news while he had to head to work.

She felt bad she had waited till then to do it when he needed to focus. The worry was unnecessary as though it did sting to be cheated on past that all he felt was free. A quarter of a century and he was finally free to tell you how he felt. You had been single for half a year now since a cheating ordeal of your own with a Doctor caught slipping on a different type of glove for someone other than you when you had shared your offer of help to your best friend.

The news was shared and as usual when he was down and out you came to the rescue, planning a weekend trip away for the whole group. Grinning madly he climbed in his car and started to drive eager to get there early even if it meant having to wait hours for even you to arrive in your usually over early habitual ways.

An offer was made, Thranduil was struggling and it sort of just exploded out of you, “Use my eggs.” Instantly you had to lay down on the floor of your kitchen leaving the tea you had been waiting for later to calm yourself through the rest of the conversation. Details were traded over the email and when this was through you swore to yourself that you had to break this tie, you had to let him go. This was getting to where you couldn’t breathe and almost on the edge of tears, and now you had said basically that he could have your dream baby and raise it with someone else.

Work had been ruthless lately and sure you had little time for dating, a great thing after your recent discovery about your ex, and yes you wanted babies too, something the hormones to donate only made worse. Sure you would be a part of the child’s life but if you were anywhere close hopped up on hormones on your worst day you couldn’t deny the thought of abducting Thranduil and your baby to run off together somewhere she could never find you. Ring or not, she had what you had burned for inside and out and your patience was wearing thin. Sometimes the strongest way to say I love you is goodbye, or at least that was what you told yourself each night.

The apartment you shared with your ex was now belonging to someone else and halfway to homeless with all packed in a moving truck to fill a storage bin countries away a phone call came from the father you hadn’t heard of since you were a teenager halted you in your tracks. Turning around almost at the border you made your way until at the airport straight to the private airstrip you found your baby half sister being helped off your father’s private jet, little red headed hazel eyed Tauriel all of four years old along with all her belongings were loaded up into your car for the drive to a five star hotel. Just like he’d dropped you when you were a child at your gran’s and never looked back, only contacting you on birthdays and holidays to send checks like his other children before you.

Giddily the three year old bounced on top of the bed while you secured plans to move in to your Gran’s pool house for a short time until you could find a place of your own. Hanging up at the arms looping around your shoulders after leaving a message to Ecthelion about his latest listings you would need to look at you turned to play with your sister and tire her down before dinner and then bed to a film of your choosing. The future you had planned changed rather drastically, but you hoped at least having her here you might be a lot less psycho possessive over the baby you had helped Thranduil conceive.

It only took a week for Tauriel to settle into her new life here really as she was just down the street from your friends and their children she bonded with right away in your weekly dinners, the latest of which had you almost screaming. “Divorced? Since when?! We were just at their anniversary dinner!”

Glorfindel shrugged saying, “None of us saw it either, it all went down quietly in the minimum two months, but apparently she’s found someone else,”

Elros snorted and set down his drink he had almost choked on saying, “You’re missing the biggest part,”

Elrond swatted his arm as you twirled your untouched glass of wine between your fingers above your lap, “Apparently she’s pregnant too, getting her dream family finally.”

Thunderously your heart raced and you asked trying to hold back your tears, the expression on your face making the men inch closer to you at how deeply his pain had continued to affect you. They caught the same ‘fix it’ flinch in your gaze and they realized they had to act to stop this plummeting plane crash you were strapped into. You had loved him, been faithfully there for all of them, far from clingy except when you truly needed someone and always you were all in to defend or protect when possible. The marriage was one thing, but clearly at the offer of donating an egg Thranduil should have seen it, he should have drawn the line and yet he didn’t the thought of a baby with you was too much to pass up and he didn’t realize that he wouldn’t be raising your dream baby with you but in fact hurting you by taking it away and out of your reach.

Not leaving it to chance Glorfindel said, “We should go up to the cabin this weekend. Just like in school, to start over the right way. Campfires, some drinks, burgers, smores. Go back to the good old days.”

You couldn’t argue, not when they kept on bringing up past stories and before long they had walked you back to your gran’s and gotten her to agree to watch Tauriel for the weekend for your trip. In their stroll back they had called Thranduil and shared the news himself, only fibbed a bit saying you had brought up reliving your glory days up in the cabin that was your group getaway.

Packed and ready you were off in your car, not as early as you had hoped after packing just a bit too much to prep for anything, especially when each time before you had been missing something each time you had gone up there leading to your laughable trio of suitcases the men would no doubt laugh at. Hours the path from the city to the country you drove tapping your fingers and humming awkwardly loud to the song on the radio trying to force yourself to be calm remembering the days by the lake and lounging in the hammock outside the cabin on lazy days no doubt bringing you face to bare pectorals with that recently divorced best friend of yours. Still to get back at him, subconsciously of course, you’d packed that same bikini from that pool party your friendship began in prepping for, tiny and neon that hugged you perfectly keeping his eyes so hungrily on you all night before whatever you did that turned him off of you.

The welcome of the long dirt road through the post card perfect town you passed seemingly readying for something brought you up to a tire track bearing dirt drive through a set of winding hills up to the two story wood cabin resting under an oddly grey sky. Shifting your gaze downwards you spotted a familiar truck mostly unloaded and the front door to the cabin open. Parked beside the truck you opened the door and huffed at the blast of cold air shockingly far from the late summer temperatures from the city surely scared off by whatever storm was coming. Unbuckled you climbed to your feet and closed the door behind you then strolled around the back of it to grab the final two bags from the back of the truck containing blankets and pillows making you smirk.

Up to the door you strolled hearing boot steps coming closer to the open door. At the base of the front steps you looked up seeing a fellow blonde bun bearing Elf, “Hey Hot Pants Man.”

Rolling his eyes that same smirking chuckle broke from him spreading an instinctual smirk from you at his retort, “Bout time Squirtle Girl.” He said grabbing a bag from you turning to look you over in your own long sleeve shirt hanging over the tops of your favorite jeans covering most of your boots, an outfit similar to him except for his flannel and leather jacket over it he hadn’t worn in years you loved to steal from him back in school.

Peering around you said, “Colder than I thought it’d be.”

He nodded and added the bag to the spare room he’d filled with his other supplies making you smirk wider as your not being the only one to over prep. “Yes, seems we’ve beaten a storm in.”

“A, hope the guys get through alright.”

Thranduil chuckled, “No doubt Glori will love flooring it through the storm like the old days. He’d race after a Balrog that one.”

You giggled widening a smile across his face, “Oh yes, just like that one tornado.”

“Yes. Exactly, Celebrian’s in labor and he’s off chasing tornados for the perfect picture.”

You shook your head, “I honestly am so concerned for his parents, how they manage to live knowing he’s out there on his own left to his whims,” making Thranduil laugh in his turn to join you out to your car.

“How’s Tauriel? Elros texted me about her. How, is that affecting things, he said you were thinking about moving.”

You nodded, “Ya,” opening your trunk making him laugh at the suitcases and bags of food you had bought along the way, “Don’t laugh, Mr I packed my whole bed with supplies.”

He shook his head, “Just, like minds. You were saying?” Taking up armfuls to carry in behind you and your supply.

“Well, I moved out, got a moving truck,” at that his heart was racing wondering if you had still wanted to move after this, “Got to the border when my dad called. Was just in time to pick her up at the airport,” you set down the bags of food in the kitchen he helped you put away, “Asshole sent her off alone on a jet. Well, gran let me rent her pool house and Ecthelion is coming up with a list of houses for me to look at.”

Turning again you went to grab your suitcases you brought inside into your usual room. Once again you had peered up at Thranduil at his awkwardly silent self ending when he blurted out, “Take a hike,” Your brow ticked up, “We, we should take a hike. If the guys are going to be late, no use in just waiting around, and we can break into the old pattern after our usual trail. They should be here by then.”

With a nod you replied, “Sure, sounds good.” Grabbing your jacket you pulled it on following him to the door he locked behind you both and led the way off to your usual path with his hands buried in his pockets.

Not long into the walk he stole another glance down at you seeing you reach out to grab a tall stalk with a tiny bundle of white flowers on the end you couldn’t quite remember the name of you spun between your fingertips. Hastily he wet his lips then said, “I got divorced.”

Glancing up at him you nodded, “I heard. You could have said something.”

He shook his head trying to ease the hint of pain in your voice, “It, it’s really hard to describe.” He sighed, “We just, it was the distance, and it all seemed so easy, and then the fertility came up, and my work pressed that harder for her stress on trying to schedule ovulation and all that. She suggested sleeping alone, for months before, to try to, date again I guess, rekindle things. Well, she did relax, and fell harder for the gallery owner, which I support, he was there for her, loves her, can give her what I couldn’t.”

He wet his lips again and blurted out looking at you, “I’m keeping the baby,” freezing in place you looked up at him, “Not, that I never would have, I always was,” he sighed and shook his head then started over, “I wanted you to know, my plans on that front haven’t changed.” With tears in your eyes he inhaled again and you nodded and took another step making him tear his hand from his pocket to grab your arm turning you, “Tiny.”

Facing him again you shook your head and sniffled wiping a stray tear from your cheek, “I’m a terrible person.”

Stepping closer his hands settled on your arms, “You’re nothing of the sort!”

“I wanted to help you. So much.” His eyes narrowed trying to hold back his own ache to cry at your tears, “You wanted a baby, and I wanted to help you. Then I did,” you sniffled again and his lips parted just barely, “Then it hit me, it’s a baby, and suddenly I had nothing to do with it, so I wanted to leave,” Your voice cracked and he moved close drawing you into his chest feeling a tear stream down his cheek finally realizing what he’d done. “I’m such a terrible-,”

“You are not terrible. Nothing of the sort!” Reaching down he curled his fingers under your chin he tilted it back, “I am so sorry. I am the one who should apologize. Just assuming that having a baby with you to raise with someone else, how hard that would be. For Bella, it’s not her egg, she’s been a surrogate before, from a family where that’s a common gift. I should have known how hard that would be for you. This is not just my baby, it’s ours, and the papers are going to say that. As soon as that test went positive I knew it would be hard to have a piece of you and trying to push you into an awkward triangle of parenting where you would be pushed aside when you were the one who gave me this baby. I never knew how hard this would be, and I am so, infinitely sorry for not sitting down to actually think it over, especially for you.”

Unable to think of what to say you nodded and kept walking on and you said, “I found a cute crib.”

Making him smirk down at you as you dried your cheeks with your sleeves. “Oh? Do tell.” For nearly an hour in the dropping of the temperature you chatted strolling closer and closer together all the way under the darkening clouds above all the way around back to the cabin again.

Outside it you looked around saying, “How are they still not here?”

Thranduil shrugged, “Maybe they left a message.” You nodded and followed him up the steps into the cabin saying, “You check the machine, I’ll start on the fire.”

Over to the fireplace he went and crouched while you made for the phone seeing a blinking light on the message machine. Finger outstretched you hit the button and Elros’ voice filled the empty cabin, “Tiny, Thran, ya, turns out there’s a big storm headed out to the cabin and there’s one brewing here at home. Sniffles are going round through our little ones and we can’t leave our Love’s alone in this, so, you two enjoy the weekend, maybe if things pick up we might make it out tomorrow if we can beat the storm.”

The scent of a comforting fire filled the room and you caught Thranduil’s eye with a quick grin, “So, sniffles.”

Nodding back he replied smoothing his palms together trying not to seem too anxious to be alone with you, “Supper then.”

Precooked pot roast, your favorites of his recipes, was put in the oven to warm up and already he was beaming lighting the lanterns along the walls and on the table when the sky darkened even more. Wine from dinner soon bled into whiskey and the bag of smores supplies was too much to ignore anymore. Under the flickers of stars through the spreading clouds a warm fire pit was lit and your giggle filled mess of a conversation continued on between sloppy bouts of feeding one another smores. Only delving into more giggling trips down memory lane as his playful nip at your fingers had come without just a splash more of liquid courage to take it as anything but the liquor fueled accident you assumed it to be.

Up again in a rocking fit of laughter you were seated on blankets and pillows around the campfire with flickers of stars shining in the sky both adjusting the spare blankets wrapped around you for extra warmth. Wetting his lips Thranduil beamed at you brightly as you said, “Miss Marya, and those daily questions on the board. Oh, her favorite,” Thranduil laughed again remembering the one you meant and then nipped at his lip aching to just close the distance and kiss you. “If you had the power to change one person’s life, how would you do it?” Giggling again in his chuckling downing of the last of the whiskey you passed him, looking him over with a lick of your lips in doing so. “What about you? What would you do?”

A single adorable tick of your brow and the bottle fell from his hand at his side to the blanket. Over his shoulders the blankets around him shifted in his cupping of your cheeks, warmly his lips crashed into yours molding against them in the slip of his knee knocking you onto your back. Still holding your cheeks a slip of his thumb dipped between your mouths in a moments pause for him to shift his left leg between yours with his right. And in the darkened gaze up at him and the flick of your tongue against his fingertip the hungry kiss began again with tongues searching blindly for a common rhythm in the mingling of hums. Up around his neck your hands slid keeping him from drawing back again when his hands fumbled the blankets from between you to wrap you around him under his blankets and himself for warmth. A gasping glance up at the clouds releasing a single snowflake was the least clear moment you had in the dip of his lips down the side of your neck.

Nestled under the covers a final crack of the dying fire your eyes flickered open in Thranduil’s waking grumble retracting his foot under the covers at the cold, still wrapped around your chest holding you tightly his lips met your neck in your reach up from his back to pull the covers back. “Feels colder.”

Lifting his head Thranduil squinted into the night then felt his eyes snap wide open at the dip of snow you were both in he looped your legs around his middle. And he brought all your snacks, shoes, clothes and blankets between the two of you in the cocoon of blankets he covered you for the trot through the snow to the front door. Giggling to yourself you stayed in his hold while he pushed the door shut with his foot and reached out to lock it, as if that could keep the cold away from you. Straight to the living room where your former snuggling pit was he set you down and coiled up in his blanket after covering you in yours to relight the fire. Again he nipped at his lip and hurried back to you pulling more of the still slightly warm comforters he’d brought to cover your snow coated blankets he tossed away along the wall and wrapped his arms around you laying at your side.

Swallowing dryly he looked you over and his hand sank from your hip over the thigh you shifted to lay on top of his leg, “Are you busy Thursday?”

With a smirk he hummed back, “I’m fairly certain we’ll still be here Thursday.”

Easing your arms around his neck you sighed back deepening his smirk in the subtle tug bringing him against you again, “What ever shall we do?”

He shrugged and playfully replied, “I’m certain we could think of something. Decorating our home for one,” kissing your cheek sweetly then moving his lips back to your neck to hum again, “planning a nursery,”

“Our home?”

Drawing back he cupped your cheek to lock eyes with you, “Oh you’re moving in with me, you and Tauri both. It’s still all boxes, nothing close to ready for our baby.”

Playfully you smirked up at him, “You really think I would just move in with you like that? I mean, I’m going to need a little something extra to convince me.”

“Oh really? How expensive is this something extra?”

You shrugged, “I might settle for you wearing those hot pants of yours to bed.” Making him roll his eyes and crash his lips into yours again wrapping your legs and arms around him in his move above you again muffling your giggles through his deep chuckle

Truly the storm did pick up, and sure enough well into the next week you were trapped, though to keep as much time to make up for lost time you were still enjoying your break when the guys arrived eager to see if you’d coupled or killed each other after the phones going down due to the now passed storm.

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf, @pastelhexmaniac

#Theincaprincesswritingchallenge #30daywritingchallengebytheincaprincess #hobbit #lotr #Thranduil x Reader OC #Snowed In

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