#verse: golden quartet

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for a Fic...

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1. Hi! Me again jsjs, for the next ITMF I need fics where people realize how young WWX still is, like not about how young MXY's body is (but if you have of those even better 'cause I love that idea too) but that he wasn't older than 21/22 when he died and for him he's still barely out of adolescence (considering the last of it he spent fighting instead of properly growing out of it). Bonus points if they realize he's closer in age to the juniors than his brother, his husband or the rest of his generation @jiangclaritybell

Help, My Dad Is Fucking Someone My Age!! by sweetlolixo (T, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Humor, Crack, Fluff, Romance)

The Price of Old Wishes by SoManyJacks (E, 67k, WangXian, Minor canon divergence, Angst, POV LWJ, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, semi-verbal!LWJ, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide) (link in #11) has a scene where lwy thinking about how young wwx died when he's talking to a young girl.

All Technicalities by DummyDipl0d0cus (M, 4k, JC & WWX, WangXian, Rated M Just To Be Safe, Overprotective JC, Post-Canon)

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2. Hello beloved mods. I'm in the mood for fics where Lan Sizhui, as the eligible bachelor and Best Boy he is, starts receiving marriage requests, while Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are very Parental about it.

A Civil Combpaign Series by Ariaste (T/M, 31k, ZhuiLing, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, the difficulty of arranging your own marriage, overly subtle courting or overly oblivious courtee?, awkward teenagers, Teenage Drama, Humor,companion fic, WWX POV, Feelings, Fluff, WangXian's Weird Flirting)

Lan Sizhui's Got a Crush! by Theladyofravenclaw (T, 46k, LSZ/OFC, Junior Quartet, Humor, Fluff and Crack, Case Fic, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Body Horror, Mild Gore, Post-Canon) is more about lsz and his friends but there is a whole chapter of wangxian trying to give relationship advice

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3. I'm itmf some evil jgy fics who gets what he deserves no redemption arc and obv wangxian get their happy ending but way less trauma jc friendly pls :)

i would like to suggest the 'bad person meng yao' and 'meng yao bashing' tags for some (sadly not all) fics that fit the prompt.

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

To Mourn the Young Man by Iamnotawriter (T, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, BAMF WWX, Most people live, but not the bad guys, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal)

Friends, Sabers, and Other Essentials for Solving a Conspiracy by MeridianGrimm for Lisa_Telramor ( T, 50k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mystery, Smart NHS, WWX doesn't stay dead, LWJ gets a new friend, Happy Ending, Fix-It, To be clear the WangXian is mostly background, This fic is about friendship) (link in #4) kinda fits?

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4. Hiii!! I'm itmf nhs centric fics I would like it if they are fix it/time travel fix it/fix it of sorts type of fics thank you!!

💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not rated, 279k, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, fix-it of sorts, CQL verse, golden core reveal, angst w/ happy ending, BAMF NHS)

Friends, Sabers, and Other Essentials for Solving a Conspiracy by MeridianGrimm for Lisa_Telramor ( T, 50k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mystery, Smart NHS, WWX doesn't stay dead, LWJ gets a new friend, Happy Ending, Fix-It, To be clear the WangXian is mostly background, This fic is about friendship)

This Time Around by KouriArashi (T, 83k, JGY & NHS, NHS & WWX, JGY & WWX, Time Travel Fix-It, Kid Fic, Families of Choice, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Politics, Class Issues, Past Child Abuse, Moral Ambiguity, Everybody Lives, Eventual Happy Ending)

Third Sun by PhantomWriter (T, 57k, NHS & NMJ, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Crack Treated Seriously, BAMF NHS, Protective NHS, Protective NMJ, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, LWJ is a Wēn)

Unexpected Salvation series by clipper782 (M, 162k, NHS/JGY, time travel fix-it of sorts, past incest, murder, psychology, love/hate, friends to enemies to friends to lovers, crack treated seriously, demonic cultivator NHS)

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5. itmf Wei Wuxian being unused to Mo Xuanyu's body: he stumbles, is shorter than he is used to, isn't used to his strength, etc. Bonus points if there is angst where WWX has panic attacks or disgust about being in someone else's skin. Thank you!

the soft animal by cafecliche (T, 5k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, [PODFIC] the soft animal by flamingwell)

your own heart beating by varnes (G, 1k, wangxian, body dysphoria)

mine? by Anonymous (Not rated, <1k, wangxian, body dysphoria, post-canon)

If only we could never think nor feel by Alianita (M, 1k, wangxian, slight angst, body dysphoria, feels)

unsettled by cryptenhope (G, 1k, wangxian, post-canon, established relationship, body dysphoria, hurt/comfort)

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6. hello! do you know of any 'The Wife is First' AUs for wangxian?? that would be lovely!

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7. Hey! Are there any lwj/wwx/mianmian smut fics? I'm looking for one that i came across but i can't remember any details about it.

Time by WithBroomBefore (M, 30k, WangXianMian, Time Travel, Fix-It, Canonical Character Death - WWX, WWX Lives, JYL Lives, Polyamory, Ghost WWX, for a little bit, Grief/Mourning, Eventual Happy Ending, Trans LWJ, bisexual LWJ, Bisexual WWX, POV Multiple, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death)

winged cupid painted blind by isabilightwood (E, 6k, WangXian, XianMian, Modern AU, and they were ROOMMATES, wwx & lqy are strickly friends with benefits, and lwj & lqy don’t do anything with each other, endgame wangxian, background endgame qingmian, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Accidental Voyeurism, Explicit Consent, Threesome, Fingering, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Getting Together, Light Angst, Fluff, Bottom LWJ)

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8. this is pretty specific but i'm itmf fics that in some way have creative variety in wwx's demonic cultivation powers! i see a lot of standard control-fierce-corpses-and-ghosts type of stuff in fics, but i recently reread the books and there's a moment where wwx gets a skeleton to crawl out of the ground and whisper to him that the juniors were kidnapped (without even using chenqing i think?), and (inspired by that) i'd love to read something where the author just goes ham with the interesting alternative techniques lol.

can be a focus of the fic or just a one-off mention, anything goes! preferably no character bashing or hard nsfw. thank you!

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending) along with having a ghost companion, there's also a brief scene where WWX is spotted asking directions from a skeleton's hand that came up from the ground.

The envy of the world by vulnerable_bead (E, 48k, WangXian, Case Fic, Fluff and Smut, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant, WangXian as teacher(s), WangXian as musicians, Spell-weaving) remember the Power Stunt WWX used in the Yueyang Chang graveyard, where he dramatically punched the ground to dynamite-fish for corpses? vulnerable_bead does: “The boys felt the earth under their feet vibrate slightly, painfully, as if some telluric current had radiated from him, sending a message all the way to the bedrock that a man stronger than the mountains had arrived and he would brook no resistance.“

Re #8 note that The envy of the world does contain hard NSFW sex scenes, although not graphic violence.

the field meets the wood by astronicht (T, 7k, WangXian, BAMF WWX, slight whump, Ritualistic Self Harm, Canon Era, Tang Dynasty style, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, salt economics, Post-Canon, [Podfic] the field meets the wood by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona), [podfic] the field meets the wood by jellyfishfire) (link in #14) WWX works a *lot* of inventive, sustained, and gruesomely detailed blood magic, including long-distance life support and a chilling application of Painted Eyes—and then there’s the climax, wherein he invokes the terrifying power of Higher Mathematics.

blossoms at the roadside by bleuett (T, 13k, wangxian, alternate universe, different first meeting, getting together, tenderness, gardens & gardening, happy ending, hand feeding) Wei ying uses resentful energy to heal plants 💚

all the bonds of nature by luckymarrow (E, 68k, wangxian, MXY & WWX, LWJ & MXY & WWX, modern w/ magic, romantic comedy, roommates to lovers, pining, necromancy, ethical necromancer WWX, music teacher LWJ, fluff & smut, ghosts, urban fantasy, light angst, kink negotiation, praise kink, BDSM, developing relationship, dom LWJ) Wei ying is an ethical necromancer using resentful energy from dead  animals and also putting them to rest.

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9. Hi I love your blog and hope you might help me with finding fic we’re Lan Zhan is the dead one . It can be cannon or non cannon or morden Au just were Wei Ying is the one who has to grieve and care for Lan Yuan . @cfox86

Over the Rotted Bridge by vailkagami (T, 314k, WangXian, Temporary Character Death, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ dies, Wei Wuxian doesn't die, neither do (most of) the wens, JYL also lives, Original Character(s), outside pov, YLLZ WWX, Canon Divergence, CQL Verse, Illustrated, Grief/Mourning, Non-Consensual Resurrection, mute LWJ, Hurt LWJ, Slow Burn, canonical death of a child (mentioned), Survivor Guilt, PTSD) is very good I highly recommend it

Turnabout and Start Again by runningondreams (T, 34k, WIP, WangXian, Temporary Character Death, Role Reversal, Soulmates, Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, SuicideI, mprisonment, Violence, Minor Character Death, Mild Gore, Pining, Identity Issues, Getting Together, Happy Ending) I recommend "Turnabout and Start Again" by runningondreams on ao3. unfortunately it hasn't updated since 2020 so I understand if you don't actually recc it. but the 11 chapters is does have are really good!

the passing of seasons by tennssi (G, 12k, WangXian, Character Study, Canon Divergence, Family, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Moving On, Eventual Happy Ending)

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10. Hi! It's me again haha -//- Do you have any recs for long xiyao with a happy ending? I've been reading the top kudos ones on ao3 and consulting Google, but so far not much luck (┬┬﹏┬┬) @thepurplewombat

The Halo You're Wearing, It's Not Yours To Keep by poemwithnorhyme (E, 54k, XiYao, JGY/WX, JGY/WRH, Forced Prostitution, Hurt/Comfort)

An Atypical Courtship by KouriArashi (M, 48k, XiYao, WangXian, Romance, Slow Build, Developing Relationship, Prostitution, Class Issues, Light Angst, Political Shenanigans, Asexual Relationship, Asexual LXC, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed)

Last of Our Kind by Shiome (E, 103k, XiYao, Post-Canon Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Temporary Amnesia, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Case Fic, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV Third Person, Pining, Sexual Content, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Power Bottom MY, Action & Romance)

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11. hello :) thank you for everything you're doing !! for your next im in the mood, i wanted to ask if you know of any canon compliant fic that follows lan wangjis pov throughout all (or even part) of mdzs/cql. thank you so much x

The Price of Old Wishes by SoManyJacks (E, 67k, WangXian, Minor canon divergence, Angst, POV LWJ, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, semi-verbal!LWJ, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide)

The Hospitality of the Qishan Wen by treemaidengeek (T, 14k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV LWJ, Traumatized LWJ, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, WWX is a chaos gremlin, LWJ Has Feelings, Hurt LWJ)

well-met by warlight by wukuiyuxin (Not rated, 2k, wangxian, WIP, Old English Style Poetry, Epic Poetry, [Podfic] well-met by warlight by Cathalinareads (Cathalinaheart), Tumblr gifset) Lan Wangji’s account of meeting, loving, losing, and mourning Wei Ying and raising A-Yuan—in mock-Norse epic verse / see also #11 on this post.

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12. I need fics in wich Harry Potter somehow ends up in mdzs and with one Character there. Until now Ive only read one with Harry x Sizhui and that one wasn’t updated in a while. Thanks in advance

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13. I‘m in the mood for canon era fics where WangXian are living out some BDSM/BDSM adjacent kinks. Bonus points if there are no lengthy contract discussions or constant asking for safewords. Aftercare highly appreciated.

mercy, tear it down. by orange_crushed (E, 31k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Dual Cultivation, Light BDSM, In Which Wangxian Fumble Towards An Understanding of D/S Dynamics, Porn with Feelings, Recovery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Wangxian-Typical CNC Play, Aftercare, Slight Feminization (ie Wei Ying Keeps Saying 'Wife'), True Love, Past LWJ/Other)

old wounds by BloodRedCarnation (E, 23k, LWJ/MXY/WWX, wangxian, PWP, kink negotiation, age difference, powerdynamics, threesome, established wangxian, both top & bottom sub&dom LWJ, post-canon, fix-it of sorts)

at your feet by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 2k, wangxian, post-canon, sub LWJ, sexual tension, explicit sexual content, hairpulling)

the mortifying ordeal of being loved by attackofthezee (noxlunate) (T, 1k, wangxian, post-canon, established relationship, birthday fluff, praise kink, dom/sub undertones)

Closer than my hands have been by Spodumene (E, 5k, wangxian, post-canon, established relationship, rough sex, dom/sub undertones, consensual non-con, hairpulling, facefucking, bondage, spanking, cock slapping, jealousy, top drop)

i'll be your warmth here by mistergoblin (E, 1k, wangxian, canon divergence, PWP, dom/sub elements, sub & bottom LWJ, orgasm delay/denial, bondage, spanking, happy ending)

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14. IITMF: Post-canon case fics my beloved 🥺

love lies beyond words by acrosticacrumpet (G, 4k, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Whump, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Yunmeng Shuangjie Reconciliation, not a completed reconciliation but the beginning of one, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Self-Worth Issues, painful conversations with a tasteful smidgeon of, Cuddling & Snuggling)

just as the stories say by TheDameJudiWench (T, 11k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Medical Procedures, some gore, brief mention of a farm animal dying, Yunmeng brothers feelings, Family Dynamics, Attempted Murder, Injury Recovery, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Established Relationship, brief mention of vomiting, Happy Ending, Found Family, POV Outsider, Guilt, Revenge, Mention of Suicide (not main character), Grief/Mourning, Forgiveness, Whump, Near Death Experiences)

the field meets the wood by astronicht (T, 7k, WangXian, BAMF WWX, slight whump, Ritualistic Self Harm, Canon Era, Tang Dynasty style, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, salt economics, Post-Canon, [Podfic] the field meets the wood by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona), [podfic] the field meets the wood by jellyfishfire)

in your skin by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Horror, Body Horror, Blood and Gore, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Non-Consensual Body Modification, kinda?, ?Reflections over death and self-worth, mentions of canon suicide, Near Death Experiences, [Podfic] in your skin by flamingwell)

shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi (E, 24k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Night hunts, Curses, Intimacy, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, shadows in the sunrise: podfic by victorianotte)

JC and WWX's Get Along Sweater series by newamsterdam (T, 29k, JC & WWX, bg wangxian, post-canon, trapped in a closet, cultivation as a plot device, JC & WWX reconciliation, miscommunication, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, emotional tension, ghosts, action/adventure, brotherly love, complicated relationships)

🧡 climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (T, 15k, JC & WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Mutually Unrequited Forgiveness, Yunmeng Brothers Reconciliation, Family History, Generational Trauma, Discussion of Canonical Abuse, Awkward Attempts at Communication, [Podfic] climbing up that coastal shelf by RevolutionaryJo)

build me no shrines by occultings (microcomets) (M, 54k, WangXian, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, First Time, Getting Together, Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Hair Washing, Sentient Burial Mounds, Case Fic, Post-Canon, CQL Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Light Angst, Flashbacks, mild body horror, foot washing, Happy Ending, Non-Sexual Intimacy, ...then sexual intimacy, [Podfic] build me no shrines by flamingwell)

With Absolute Splendor by Lise (T, 43k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Wedding planning, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Complicated Relationships, Angst with a happy ending, [Podfic] With Absolute Splendor by kisahawklin, [PODFIC] With Absolute Splendor by Gwogobo)

some good mistakes by Lise (T, 18k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Road trips, rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Conversations, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, [Podfic] some good mistakes by kisahawklin)

the soft animal by cafecliche (T, 5k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, [PODFIC] the soft animal by flamingwell) (link in #5)

grow by cafecliche (T, 14k, WangXian, Age Regression/De-Aging, Character Study, Post-Canon, [Podfic] Grow by jellyfishfire)

Wearing Down Every Bone by CSHfic, VSfic (E, 30k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Time Loop, Temporary Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Curses, Pining, Getting Together, Time Travel, Hurt wwx, Mystery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Depression and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, gratuitous use of empathy, Wearing Down Every Bone [Podfic] by Rionaa)

The envy of the world by vulnerable_bead (E, 48k, WangXian, Case Fic, Fluff and Smut, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant, WangXian as teacher(s), WangXian as musicians, Spell-weaving) (link in #8) LWJ and WWX supervise LSZ, LJY, and OC Lan Juniors on a village investigation; poetic fairytale prose; a casefic of unfurling complexity with an intelligent, subtle, and tragic antagonist; mysterious uncharted musical magic; a climactic confrontation that deserves to be animated. And then there’s the famous Windowsill Papapa Scene.

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15. itmf canon compliant/divergent (not modern) politic heavy fics? Court life, politics and diplomacy, secrets and plot twists as people wait to play their hand, etc.

Between the Candle and the Sun by Legume_Shadow (T, 304k, ZhuiYi, WangXian, LingZhen, XiCheng, XuanLi, Angst, Friendship, Slow Burn, Falling In Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, MM is a Badass, WN is a Badass, Protective WQ, Most people live, Ensemble Cast, Action/Adventure) is a Royal AU more focused on plot, including politics, but is primarily a junior-pairings fic (with secondary Wangxian)

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16. In the mood for fics where wangxian adopt another kid(s) post-canon

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, [PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

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17. Fics where WWX is actually respected; as a scholar/genius/cultivator. @utxqia

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 528k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, WangXian, NHS & WWX, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[reyofluke-ocs]

OCs DESERVE BETTER -> Fiona Riley (The Vampire Diaries) FC: Katherine McNamara

"I mean, my grandparents were very into honoring our Celtic ancestry - especially anything that had to do with the Sidhe - so I shouldn't be surprised to learn the supernatural exists... yet somehow I still am."

Born and raised in Mystic Falls, Virginia, Fiona is considered the odd member out of Mystic Falls High's Golden Quartet. Unlike Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline, she is not into cheerleading, and is almost more of a wallflower at parties than her friends. Still, she is very close to the town's other golden girls, and has been since they were little children. Smart, friendly, and somewhat naive, Fiona is content with her life in Mystic Falls... except for her long-standing crush on her friend Elena.

The same summer Grayson and Miranda Gilbert went over Wickery Bridge, Fiona lost her grandparents, who had always been huge on honoring the families Celtic ancestry - including leaving all of their stuff to Fiona. Juggling mourning her own loss and being there for her friend/secret crush, Fiona slowly went through the stuff her grandparents left her, coming across an ancient book that seemed full of spells. Inside was a letter from her grandparents that explained everything they weren't able to - the Riley's were descended from Celtic druids and have had a close relationship with the Sidhe. Right in time, it turns out, because Bonnie begins to come into her own powerful magic ancestry and a mysterious new student named Stefan Salvatore starts at school, quickly zeroing in on Elena and followed by a trail of dead bodies drained of blood.

tagging: @endless-oc-creations@stanshollaand, @foxesandmagic , @hiddenqveendom , @arrthurpendragon ,@cas-verse, @eddiemunscns , @oneirataxia-girl, @forchrissy if anyone wants to be added/removed or I accidentally forgot, please let me know!

psd: oblivion-crackships

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY HEAVENLY BIRTHDAY to Elvis Presley. When he turned 11, his mother Gladys took him to the Tupelo Hardware Company Store and bought him his first guitar: A 1947 Kay flat-top K19. He’d play this guitar throughout his school years and at his first Sun recording session. Also on this day: In 1956 his double-A single “Don’t Be Cruel/Hound Dog” went to #1 and stayed there for weeks. Fast forward to 1993 and the United States Post Office issued an Elvis Presley stamp. 

Sidebar: 1n 1976 David Bowie demo’d the song “Golden Years” with Elvis in mind to cover it (for unclear reasons Elvis nixed it even after making a demo). Rewind to 1960 when Elvis recorded the song “Black Star” (later re-titled “Flaming Star”). That song directly inspired the Black Star theme of Bowie’s final work, and it’s remarkable that Bowie was also born on the same day as Elvis.

In 2022 Baz Luhrmann released the ELVIS film, a biopic that most people think “got it right,” portraying Elvis as channeling Pentacostal church rapture with juke joint energy into one voice, one vibration. He looms over me, be it through mindful study or cultural resonance—in 1989 I named my back-up The Rover Boys after the surname for The Million Dollar Quartet a.k.a Elvis’s legendary 1956 jam session with Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Carl Perkins. Like many professional musicians, I started with cover bands playing in bars, and I’m certain I’ve learned many Elvis hits + in my solo set I do gospel songs that he favored.

Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is based on “Plaisir d’Amour,” a 1784 French chanson by Jean-Paul-Égide Martini, re-written by hit-making team Hugo & Luigi w/George David Weiss. The lyrics are informed by poet Alexander Pope and Bible verses. I always enjoyed the tune, but when I heard Bob Dylan cover it, I became inspired to play it. Dylan gave it a gospel flair, and that triangulation with God’s love is what I aim for when I do it. Here’s my cover of it with stories https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEeb6uPiQWI&t=217s Meanwhile, HB EP 

#Elvis #Presley #birthday #black #star #DavidBowie #GoldenYears #Martini #chanson #HugoandLuigi #DavyJones #Monkees #Epiphone #johnnyjblair #Kayguitar #HoundDog #Dontbecruel #king #milliondollarquartet #Johnny #Cash #JerryLeeLewis #CarlPerkins #BobDylan #Dylan #singeratlarge #postage #stamp

[miabrown007]

On Borrowed Time

The life of Paris’ Golden Boy is all shine and glamour; blindingly bright smiles, neverending parties, bargaining for just a shard of time for being happy. But that’s alright; Adrien has long given up the false hope that someone will get it. That is precisely why it’s a spectacle when she does, when she barges in like a hurricane in crimson and turns his life upside down. Heaven knows, it’s time for the wind of change. *** aka Adrien and Ladybug run into each other at a gala. then at another. and another. some would say, it’s a bonding opportunity alike moonlighting on a civilian’s balcony

gala friends Ladrien for this year's @mlbigbang, letsgoo!!

don't forget to check out the stunning illustrations @curlymakingswirlies made for this chapter! <3

On Borrowed Time (words, Teen, 1/3 chapters)

Time is of the essence, my dear, his mother always used to say, but Adrien was so young back then — just a kid trying to sneak away from his mother’s skirt in the crammed and stifling ballroom — he never really got what she meant. He had a vague understanding of it, something about time and timing being important, but he could never put a finger on the reason behind the benevolent smile on his mother’s face, and then it was too late to ask.

Now, Nathalie has her own motto.

It’s something something being punctual like clockwork and skilled in social situations like a particularly agreeable Swiss Army knife. And though Adrien can’t recite that by heart, it still holds true enough to his motherly heritage of time-themed wisdom for him to do his best to follow — even if his stomach violently contracts at the thought of the strained vivacissimo his life has to adhere to if he wants to keep up. But he understands, of course, that as the ambassador of the Gabriel brand, it's essential that everybody, all day long, like him so much. 

According to his father.

In all honesty, his father would probably be ecstatic — as ecstatic as it gets for a man who has never once smiled in the last ten years — if Adrien wasn’t just an attempt at emulating the perfection expected from him at the price of sweat and tears. (Not that it's much of a concern for Gabriel on a personal level, but, quite frankly, a crying teenager in the charity gala's bathroom is the definition of a PR disaster.) But Adrien — despite his father's valiant attempts at concealing this shortcoming — isn't perfect. 

He’s French. 

French, with all the ups and downs, all the over-the-top romanticism and rebellious streaks, all the moony-eyed, longing stares that follow her carefully — always observing, but never close enough to reach. He can’t help it, though. The way she pulls him is like a rule of nature, a crimson inevitability. Unbidden, unconscious, unparalleled, and Adrien knows no other option than to succumb to it, to her celestial power of baring his soul and making him feel Frencher than he ever thought possible. When he’s with her, he can’t help his slowly crumbling essence surging for the surface with a new force; can’t help his heart leaping to his throat as he's being reminded — in the sweetest, most torturous ways possible — that Paris is the city of love.

And Adrien, Adrien's Parisian to the core; even if his core — doesn’t matter that he wishes to wear it on his sleeve — only shines through when he’s with Ladybug. 

*** 21:00 ***

It’s ‘by pure accident.’ 

The charity gala’s ballroom is gargantuan, filled to the brim by the crowd of celebrities, politicians and businessmen. They bustle around — chat under the pompous chandeliers, shake on agreements by the chocolate fondue fountain, and hover on the dance floor to the string-quartet’s beat, in what appears to be a poor substitute to rehearsed ballroom dances none of them are well-versed with. The maroon tapestry could sing odes about the Parisian elite’s secrets and illicit escapades, but it keeps them all; its discretion only rivalled by that of the catering staff and security. 

Adrien doesn’t care much about rumours either. He’s on a mission of ‘pure accident’. The sole objective is talking to her; a worthy endeavour, even if it only lasts for a minute. 

He drifts next to her at the bar, in the most casual manner he can manage. His fingers fiddle with the cufflinks of his dress shirt; his arms by his side, prim and proper, instead of reaching out and pressing a kiss against her knuckles. But he still flashes his Frenchest smile at her, because that’s not something within his control to amend. 

"Good evening, Ladybug!”

"Good evening, Adrien!" It's hard to believe, but she beams right back, as if he just made her night by this chance encounter. "It is a lovely night. You should really try the champagne," she says, her voice airy as she swirls the drink around in her own glass. 

She's making smalltalk. It's only natural. After all, right now he’s no more than an acquaintance; and she definitely doesn’t have any idea that this almost stranger finds the way fizzy drink drizzles out of her nostrils, when he makes her laugh too hard, quite charming.

"I've heard it's pretty good," Adrien nods, never one to be remiss about the rules of conversation. 

That is— 

He nibbles on his lower lip before continuing. "What I've also heard is that you have had to come alone tonight. Again."

"Ah. Yes," she hums, her smile faltering. Then she leans closer and her voice drops low as she adds in a conspiratorial tone. "Maybe you wouldn't believe it, but Chat Noir isn't the ballroom dancing kind," she tells him — the very same excuse Adrien had to feed her — and he's compelled to laugh along; if nothing more, at the dramatic irony. 

"Or so I've heard. Can't blame him too much, though. Granted, with four paws he must have two left feet." 

Ladybug laughs at the stupid joke, and oh, if that isn’t the most beautiful sound. “That’s exactly the kind of thing he’d say. I don’t believe him, though,” she muses, a fond look in her eyes as she shakes her head gently, the flyaways dancing around her face like a holy halo. “I’m sure I have enough experience for the two of us, I could teach him the basics pretty fast.”

Adrien’s breath hitches because oh, the way she says she misses him beats her laugh anytime, even if only by a hairbreadth. 

“I’m sure he’d like that,” he says, clearing his throat. Her words make his heart swell, and the bigger it gets, the easier it is for it to spur him on, to make him a little more daring than his father likes. "But since Chat Noir isn’t here tonight… Maybe I could keep you company instead of him?"

Ladybug just stares at him for a long second, eyes wide and mouth forming a little ‘o’, before life returns to her face and she looks away, her cheeks tinted pink under the scarlet of her mask. "It wouldn’t be the same, but I'd like that. I'd like that very much.”

"It's a da— deal, then," Adrien grins, toothy and giddy, trying as he might to swallow back the word ‘date’ from the tip of his tongue mid-sentence, because no. It is most definitely not a date. 

He extends his arm to lead her to the dance floor, or out of the city hall — truthfully, he doesn’t even care as long as she stays this close — but just when he does, a cold voice calls from behind his back. 

"Adrien, you have to meet Mr. Giorgio in five minutes. I hope you didn't forget about your duties!"

His shoulders sag but he hides his clenched jaw behind a million-watt smile as he turns. "Of course not, Nathalie. I'll be right there!" 

An apologetic glance at his Lady is enough for her to let go of the ball gown she has just pinched up to float to the dance floor. She wraps the gloved hand so far extended for him to take around her torso. 

"I'm sorry, Ladybug, it looks like you'll have to take me up on my offer another time," Adrien sighs. 

"It's alright, I understand!" she says, but her sour smile makes Adrien wonder if she’s choosing her words carefully, deliberately avoiding saying ‘it’s no problem’. “Have a good time!" she offers, and he can only nod, heart aching. 

He never has time. And he certainly never has a good one without her.

[read the rest of the chapter on AO3]

[antialiasis]

Chess in Concert Quickfix

Apparently the Chess fandom likes to propose their own fixed versions of the script, incorporating songs from different versions and trying to arrange them in a definitive way. I haven’t seen or heard all the other versions, at least not yet (I may report back if I watch some bootlegs), but I can make a proposal on how I would briefly fix Chess in Concert - not to make a definitive version of Chess as such, so much as to just imagine a hypothetical version of this production’s story (which I do like okay in its basic beats) that would have worked better for me, personally.

My proposed changes are the following:

Keep “The Story of Chess” but fiddle with the lyrics to make the story of the princes something a little more analogous to the actual plot.

Cut ��Merano” (but not “What a Scene! What a Joy!”). We can have the Arbiter announce the world championships are in Merano and just move straight from there to Freddie and Florence arriving.

Cut “The Arbiter”, “Hymn to Chess” and “The Merchandisers”. We don’t need any of this, just get to the chess match (after a brief spoken Arbiter introduction) immediately after “Difficult and Dangerous Times”, which was when I thought we were about to get to the chess match. If we want to make a jab about merchandising, it can be in brief spoken dialogue.

Also cut “The Arbiter (Reprise)” and move straight on to “Quartet (Model of Decorum and Tranquility)”.

After “Florence Quits” and “Pity the Child #1”, we add a song between Florence and Anatoly, where she seeks him out for support after leaving Freddie. It probably starts with a reprise of “This is the one situation I wanted most to avoid…”, and picks up on their connection after “Mountain Duet”, and its purpose is to make you actually give a damn. She’s there in emotional distress and Anatoly is sensitive and supportive, she probably vents about Freddie's toxicity, he expresses admiration for her courage in taking that step of just getting out of there, maybe she probes him on that and he confesses some of his feelings on being controlled and suffocated, she tells him he deserves to be free. Something like that. Tangible sense that they’re at ease around each other and able to comfort each other and make each other feel understood, generally make us believe in this romance damn it.

Instead we cut “Heaven Help My Heart”. Florence worrying he will get bored of her if he learns everything there is to know about her is just neither here nor there in this story and has nothing to do with how anything actually plays out.

We might even cut “Golden Bangkok”/“One Night in Bangkok”, too. It’s iconic and all, but narratively the only argument for including it is showing Freddie being here for chess and not any of the city’s other attractions, which is fun and does foreshadow his arc a little, in that it suggests he cares about chess, but it’s not essential and I’m really trying to tighten the narrative progression here.

“One More Opponent”/“You and I” one way or another get rewrites where we learn more about Anatoly’s feelings about Svetlana and his children and whether he’s actually torn about having left them behind or just wants to forget they exist. It’s honestly weird that we don’t ever hear a word about this from his point of view. Maybe Florence is frustrated he never talks about them and it comes out now that Svetlana is going to be there and she’s unsure whether it might mean Anatoly goes back to her after all, especially what with her trust issues. He doesn’t need to actually tell her outright, so long as we get something we can glean his feelings from. Get a sense of where his head is at with this.

Shorten “The Soviet Machine”, I don’t think I’d want to cut it altogether but it goes on for a while just kind of repeating itself. Do the first few verses through the “But we’re going to smash that bastard” reprise, then move on to a brief version of the slow bit about how their victory will be hailed.

We’re probably cutting “Someone Else’s Story” and instead maybe moving “I Know Him So Well” to its spot, before “The Deal (No Deal)”, which would mean Freddie gets that, “Pity the Child #2” and “Talking Chess” all in a row, which would be a good. I don’t hate “Someone Else’s Story” in a vacuum, but I’m kind of confused by why we’re having Svetlana now contemplating her desire to leave her husband who already ran off with another woman to a different country a year ago, I’m not sure that really contributes anything to the overall narrative even if it develops Svetlana a bit more (her role in the rest of the narrative is to try to get him to come back home to her!), and love songs written for one character getting transplanted to be sung by a different character entirely just go against my principles, insert everything I was banging on about regarding how romance ought to be specific to these characters and their relationship to mean anything. Mayyyybe some kind of version of “The Argument” from the concept album could be included before “I Know Him So Well”? But maybe the ground that would cover would be covered in the rewritten “One More Opponent”/”You and I”.

Probably make the progress of Anatoly and Viigand’s match more obvious. As it is we’re told it’s 1-1 at the beginning of Act II, with Anatoly having been distracted in the second match, but then we don’t hear about any chess until Freddie tells Anatoly in “Talking Chess” that he was 5-1 up and now it’s 5-5. So apparently Anatoly went back to a winning streak for a while after those first two matches and then started losing again? Would like to see that properly - probably him successfully shaking off the various distractions initially (this is why I thought of maybe including “The Argument”, where he’s insisting he has to keep his focus on the match), and that specifically prompts Molokov to resort to arranging to pressure him into outright throwing the game because they haven’t managed to rattle him into losing naturally as he insisted they could in “The Soviet Machine”.

“Endgame #1” can name a few champions to set the mood but then we just move on to “Endgame #2”. No sitting there listening to a list of names harmonized slowly for three full minutes. I’m sorry, I appreciate the mood-setting and the desire to acknowledge the champions, but we do not need this and we’re already about to acknowledge the champions.

“You and I - Reprise” gets some lyric rewrites to be a bit less generic oh I love you so much blah blah and address their specific situation and the issues we just saw them spilling in "Endgame #3/Chess Game #3" a bit more. (Also it should probably be clearer whether he’s actually returning to Svetlana or not.)

All told, at a very rough count, this hypothetical would tighten it up by about 20-25 minutes, cut the chaff at the beginning in particular, and hopefully make the romance easier to get invested in and the songs about it more meaningful, which are the main things I would want to fix about this production.

[every-character-ever-poll]

WEEK THREE LINEUP

Well! That was fun, wasn't it? I've changed the formatting of the polls, as well as closed down the submissions form (for now). This week will also have 100 polls, the first 14 of which will be posted tomorrow (Sunday the 30th). And.... I think those are the only important things to mention! So without further ado, here is this week's lineup.

Buneary - Pokémon

Anita - West Side Story

Beverly Marsh - IT

Monoma Neito - My Hero Academia

Sister Carpenter - The Silt Verses

Ekko - Arcane

Veronica Sawyer - Heathers (the film)

Bakugo Katsuki - My Hero Academia

Betty Boop - 1920-40s cartoons

Flowey the Flower - Undertale

Akito Shinonome - Project Sekai: Colorful Stage!

Lady - Devil May Cry

Diamond Heart - Magical Warrior Diamond Heart

Emma - Emma

Aion - Show by Rock

Hibana - Fire Force

Klunk - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Kosmo (Space Wolf) - Voltron: Legendary Defender

Evelyn Hugo - The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

Antigone Funn - Wooden Overcoats

Oswald Cobblepot - Gotham

Emu Otori - Project Sekai: Colorful Stage!

Toon Patrol - Who Framed Roger Rabbit?

Felix - Golden Sun

Urotsuki - Yume 2kki

Kano - Kagerou Project

Ayano Tateyama - Kagerou Project

Fin Fin - Fin Fin on Teo the Magic Planet

Gladion - Pokémon Sun and Moon

Dmitri - Fire Emblem 3 Houses

Hippeaux - Animal Crossing

Raymond - Animal Crossing

Crewmate - Among Us

Sara Chidouin - Your Turn To Die

Zhongli - Genshin Impact

Firestar - Warrior Cats

Dovewing - Warrior Cats

Flourette - Answered Prayers

Eleanor Forte - SynthV

Cisqua - Elemental Gelade

Renarin Kholin - The Stormlight Archive

Roy Mustang - Fullmetal Alchemist

Alex Chen - Life is Strange: True Colors

Steffi Frohlich - Kiwi Blitz

Belos/Phillip Wittebane - The Owl House

Dr. Coomer - Half-Life VR but the AI is Self Aware

Olivia - Paper Mario: The Origami King

The Riddler - Batman: the Animated Series

Togata Mirio/Lemillion - My Hero Academia

Mustache Girl - A Hat in Time

Maika Halfwolf - Monstress Comic

Ren Mormorian - Monstress Comic

Shokry - Shubeik Lubeik

Hagga/Teeta Shawqia - Shubeik Lubeik

Wikipe-tan - Wikipedia

Ymir - Attack on Titan

Alicia Copeland - Wierd And Unfortunate Things Are Happening

Wen Kexing - Word of Honor

Garalia Nyamhee - Aura Battler Dunbine

Xena - Xena: Warrior Princess

Nuriko - Fushigi Yuugi

Neko Musume - Gegege no Kitaro

Tillman Henderson - Blaseball

Dr Boris Habit - Smile For Me

Mallow - Super Mario RPG

Vriska Serket - Homestuck

Lussa - The Undrowned Child

Mary - BBC Ghosts

Bagpuss - Bagpuss

Tara Mclay - Buffy the Vampire Slayer

The Worm - Labyrinth

Lydia Deetz - Beetlejuice

Wander - Wander Over Yonder

Noelle - Deltarune

Momotaros - Kamen Rider Den-O

Scorpion King - Word of Honor

Por - My School President

The Eleventh Doctor - Doctor Who

Dr. Doofenshmirtz - Phineas and Ferb

Perry the Platypus - Phineas and Ferb

Agent P - Phineas and Ferb

Alexa - Xenoblade Chronicles X

Lara Croft - Tomb Raider (Survivor timeline)

Faith Connors - Mirror's edge

Furuta Nimura/Kichimura Washuu/Souta - Tokyo Ghoul: re

John Egbert - Homestuck

Rose Red - Ghost Quartet

Bruce J. Speed - Ginga Tetsudou Monogatari

Elma - Xenoblade Chronicles x

Adam - Lobotomy Corporation

Ianite - Mianite

Five Hargreeves - The Umbrella Academy

Willow Park - The Owl House

Black Hat - Villainous

Katalina Alize - Granblue Fantasy

Naomi Armitage - Armitage the Third

Kanade Yoisaki - Project Sekai

Sei Iori - Gundam Build Fighters

Goro Majima - Yakuza/Like A Dragon

Albert Wesker - Resident Evil

Blacknose - Pinepaw and the Forgotten World

Please remember that, based on the results of the poll I put up earlier, Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter may be included. Her spot would be near the very end, on the last day. As I always tag polls with both the character and the media they are from, if she does get in but you would not like to see the poll, the tags will be blockable.

No matter the outcome, please be courteous as possible to one another, and if that is not possible, then please just block and move on.

[vvatchword]

Caravan Palace - Lay Down

this song sometimes reflects how I feel a little too perfectly

Now if you’re like me, you start listening to Caravan Palace and you expect samples, not lyrics. But sometimes they sample in such a way that it turns the lyrics into whole new monsters. This is one of those songs. According to Genius, the sample is from “Bye and Bye, Little Children” by the Golden Gate Quartet.

Coincidentally, it is also one of my personal “BioShock” songs--that is, it immediately kick-starts a BioShock mood if I need one. (I have little playlists meant to facilitate my writing moods.)

The lyrics are what get me. (I’d argue that some of these are incorrect but I don’t have the time to figure it out. You’ll see what I mean without my help, anyway.)

[Verse 1] I get sick and I can't get to heaven Oh, my soul is bound, can't be And I get sick and I can't get to heaven Oh, my soul is bound for hell

[Verse 2] When I get to heaven I'm gonna sing on my knees and begin Be nobody for to have on my knees and begin I get to heaven I'm gonna sing on my knees and Can't be nobody for to turn me out

[Chorus] I'm gonna (lay down) Get sick and I can't (lay down) My soul is bound for, (lay down) Get sick and I can't, my soul is bound for hell I'm gonna (lay down) Get into heaven I'm gonna sing, (lay down) Can't be nobody for to (lay down) Fall on my knees and begin Can't be nobody for to turn me out

[Verse 1] I get sick and I can't get to heaven Oh, my soul is bound, can't be I get sick and I can't get to heaven Oh, my soul is [Verse 2] When I get to heaven I'm gonna sing on my knees and begin Be nobody for to have on my knees and begin I get to heaven I'm gonna sing on my knees and Can't be nobody for to turn me out

[Chorus] I'm gonna (lay down) Get sick and I can't (lay down) My soul is bound for, (lay down) Get sick and I can't, my soul is bound for hell I'm gonna (lay down) Get into heaven I'm gonna sing, (lay down) Can't be nobody for to (lay down) Fall on my knees and begin Can't be nobody for to turn me out

[Outro] Lay down Lay down

[vifetoile]

Under the cut: they're taking the hobbits to isengard! from the year 2009, posted in good fun

The Beginning of the ‘Peregrinations and Merrymaking’ Poem Composed by Buttercup Took, child of Goldilocks Gamgee and Faramir Took, Composed in Early 1500’s S. R. (Shire Reckoning)

 

In a trouble-brewing springtime in the old and great of Ring-time

Far across the rushing Brandywine and even Rauros’ foam

Oh, of terror there was plenty, this was ere old fourteen-twenty

And two hobbits from the gentry were on sending far from home

            Bruised and weary to the bone,

            Far from ingleside and home

With the orcs behind them fighting tall horse-men of the Twilighting

Scouring off the sour blighting from the Rohan’s flowery field

Into Fangorn Wood they hurried, Merry, Pippin, how they scurried

In the darkling flickered verdigris they skirted being kee-illed,

            They took Fangorn for their shield

            That with mist and moss was fee-illed

As they passed over the water, faded then the sounds of slaughter

And the two breathed easy maugre being sundered from their kin

Though the tulgy wood was verdant both eagles and crows they heard and

Against the high-green curtain climbed they up to see the fen

When they met the oldest Ent,

Treebeard, Bombadillo’s friend

How they came to walk with giants, with them walked to war, defiant

How they built a vow reliant to be friends forevermore

All this story I will tell you, if you let me once be-spell you,

Spell you with a tale of hobbits bravest of the folk of yore

            A time of the long before,

            On the fields of white Gondor…

            (Here Buttercup Took, though clearly showing much of the stylistic choices of Hobbit-verse [wordplay, playing on rhyme scheme, emphasis on homey matters, even the Tom Bombadil reference] also reveals a simple wish to imitate the style, scope, and mood of the poems of Men, to which Buttercup Took would have had some limited access. The rest of the poem goes on to describe the happenings of Merry and Pippin in ‘The Two Towers’ with accuracy, though it does not extend past those events, and only hints at the broader scope of the adventure. )

(the following song, which become a popular leitmotif at weddings, wakes, birthday parties, or just about any gathering when enough alcohol has been consumed to make the singers thoughtful and melancholy, is first recorded in the Great Smials, specifically among the members of the Took family. The tune is remarkably similar to the melody of ‘The Minstrel Boy.’)

Oh, Fimbrethil to the fields is gone

In the waving corn has gone astray

Where once she was there is but a wand

And the softest footprints in the hay

A lovely company they made

When the Ent-men first took them to wooing

In frabjous dance they would spend the day

And the nights the Silver Flower viewing

(chorus)

Do not mourn for her youthful leaves

Although she wander mome,

She seeks a land for her mate and she

For a land that both can call their home

Oh, if you see her dancing still

On a rich and apple-laden morn

Do call to Mother Fimbrethil

In the name of lonely Fangorn

(chorus)

And say, “Your love, he awaits you yet

All mossy-grown and golden-eyed

Your lovely name he will ne’er forget

And he waits to return to your side.”

(The last collection of our piece is a play of unknown origin that first appeared in 1756 S.R., on the Party Field where the mallorn tree still bloomed, as the second act of a play, of which the first act followed a cartoonish quartet of hobbits down to Rivendell, where they split camps, one to infiltrate the hiding place of the White Wizard, and the other to return a magical ring to a dragon who has lost it and will not stop terrorizing the country until it is restored.

It became a favorite to perform at Midsummer’s Festival, with the performances as overdone and dramatic as possible, and with the audience encouraged to participate, through shouting advice to the characters and such. At first this play was performed by hobbits in their tweens, and later it became the standby in what would evolve into the Jesters, the only theatrical troupe of any note in the Shire’s history. The same tweens who first performed this went on to direct and write many other little shows, including ‘The Battle of Bullroarer and the River-Otters,’ ‘The Flower Fairy Feast’, ‘The Adventures of Tom Bombadil,’ and ‘Beren and the Fairy Princess’ The show, like the other Jesters productions, is meant to be performed on an open stage, outdoors, with no curtain, and only a raised platform delineating the seats from the stage. Performances with the audiences seated three-quarters around the stage are common.)

The Stage: A cleared area with a painted backdrop of a wood. A few hobbits stand around in Tree outfits. Opening fanfare plays. A young Hobbit announces,

Prologue: A Pair of Pathetic Peripatetics! The story of Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took.

Announcer slips off-stage.  Merry and Pippin run on-stage.

Merry: We made it clear to Fangorn Wood at last!

Pippin: What ho, it’s time to snack down on a meal!

Merry and Audience: Oh Pippin!

Merry: How can you think of food at such a time?

The uffish orcs are fast upon our trail

We’ve got to find the secret hiding place

Where lurks the fiendish manikin, whose face

They say is just a wonder to behold:

All white and chalky with one big red eye!

And right now dinner occupies your mind?

Pippin: Of course.

Merry: You silly mimsy hobbit, look about!

I haven’t seen a wood so thick and dark

So tulgy in its leaves and twigs and what

*Eyes appear in the wood behind Pippin*

Merry: I’d almost sweat it’s monitoring us –

See? Eyes!

*Pippin turns around, but they vanish just in time*

Pippin:           There are no eyes!

Merry: I’d swear there were!

Pippin: Well you can leave your outgrabing behind

We here will stop for lunch and that is that

We left the goblins far lost on our trail

There’s naught to do, and brillig’s drawing nigh

And as for that old wicked warlock’s keep –

Do you know of the trail?

Merry: Not right now, no.

Pippin: Then how about we sit and eat in peace?

Nothing but sit right here and eat and –

Audience: Look out! Behind you!

Pippin: What’s that?

Trees: Boo!

The Trees grab them from behind and they are dragged, flailing and squealing, to Treebeard, a presence so mighty that he is played by three hobbits. He speaks very slowly, with the voice of one hobbit accompanied by the Sungy Horn, a deep wooden instrument analogous to a digiridoo.

Treebeard: Who. Comes. This. Far. Into. My. Fangorn. Wood?

These. Two. Are. Inter. Lopers. On. My. Peace.

With. Such. Rip. Roaring. Racket. ‘Mong. The. Rowans.

We. Only. Hear. Such. Glanging. Noise. From. Goblins.

Pippin and Merry quake with fear.

Pippin: But sir, we most certainly en’t goblins!

Merry: We are but Hobbits! Look more closely, sir!

Treebeard: You. Look. Like. Hobbits. Smell. Like. Hobbits. Too.

You. Talk. Like. Hobbits. Probably. It’s. True.

Merry: That’s right, see sense –

Treebeard:                             Without. Doubt. You. Are. Orcs.

Pippin: But Mr. Treebeard – is that, sir, your name?

Treebeard: Most. Certain. Ly. It’s. Not. My. Name. Is:

Interlude while the Sungy Horn, bagpipe, and piccolo all play a few extended notes, with some assistance from a tambourine.

A beat.

Merry: We’ll call you Treebeard, sir, just for a start.

Believe us, sir, just simple hobbits us

We seek to find the Wizard Clad in White

He has a stone that lets you see far-off

A mask that makes his voice a thrilling song

Treebeard: Are. Such. Wonders. His. Work? I. Had. Not. Heard.

We. Last. Heard. Rumor. Of. A. Burglar. Thief.

Who. Devastates. The. Trees. All. For. A Gaffe.

Of. All. My. People. I. It. Seems. Alone.

By. All. This. Chaos. Is. Struck. To. The. Bone.

Pippin: But you don’t have bones –

Treebeard: You. Know. What. I. Mean.

Merry: So why not just go up and make a call?

Tell him you don’t approve of such a gig.

Treebeard: I’d. Have. At. First. To. Call. On. All. My. Kin.

And. They. Are. Such. Late. Sleepers. One. And. All.

Pippin: Ah-ha! Well, back at home, there’s one clear call

That never fails to wake all but the dead

(And they’d come too but for the earth packed tight.)

Treebeard: What. Call. Is. This? What. Mischief. Do. You. Mean?

Merry: Yeah, Peregrine, what are you driving at?

Pippin: Watch and learn my friend, just watch and learn.

If I may –

He climbs into Treebeard’s upper branches, with the help of a carefully concealed stepladder. He stands above the assemblage, and he sings (with the audience helping)

Pippin: Breakfast! Breakfast! Plenty and delicious!

Eggs and kippers, on gooseberry dishes!

No dallying in dreams, no a moment’s tally

Or it be all gobbled up and your tummy will be grally!

Brea-a-a-a-ak-fa-a-a-a-ast!

From their carefully concealed places behind the audience, more Trees arrive. Fangorn laughs, a trill of the bagpipes.

Treebeard: Come. Come! We. Shall. Give. Him. Something. To. Talk. About.

In a sequence with special effects that are actually quite daring for a Hobbitton production, and with much grand music, many Trees take down Isengard – Isengard actually being the Mallorn tree, and ‘taking it down’ referring to surrounding it by trees and by long strips of fabric dyed blue to signify water.  The audience here is traditionally splashed. When the hubbub has died down:

Merry: Okay, come on out wizard, meet your match!

We promise not to make you smart too keen!

From out of the treetops of the Mallorn tree comes a high and raucous laughter.  There is a bang – provided by a drum – and a flash, usually prompted by a small firecracker. The laughing person drops down from the treetops to land most nimbly on the platform.

Audience: Why, it’s Mad Baggins!

Mad Baggins: Oh ho ho, aye, you’ve caught me boys! Now what’d you like? Like to peruse my wall of masks? Want enough gold to stuff your drawers for years n’ years?

Merry: We’d like to save our friends if that is –

Pippin: But first, if we could get some dinner please?

Omnes (including Audience): Oh Pippin!

(The rest of the play continues with Mad Baggins helping ‘Merry’ and ‘Pippin’ find ‘Sam’ and ‘Frodo,’ and bears almost no resemblance to the real events.)

i just reread a document i wrote in 2009 for a college class on Tolkien.... it's titled "The Hobbits are going to isengard" and it's basically my rendition of how the story of Merry and Pippin would be preserved as a play in Shire oral tradition after many years... it features a lot of painful rhymes, audience participation, some really very cunning props, and an appearance by Mad Baggins. I'm thinking of posting it to tumblr. Anyone interested?

[im-not-a-what]

Sister Dear (1/7)

Title: Sister Dear

Summary: Canon divergent from the end of S5. Gideon and his family start a life in New York until circumstances force them to return to Storybrooke, just as Belle gives birth to another child. Gideon grapples with being a big brother, for better or worse.

Rating: G

Genre: Family, drama, humor

Characters/Pairings: Gideon, Rumbaby OC, Rumbelle

AO3 link

Note: This is the first story for the Golden Quartet verse, a remix of Our Fine Town where Gideon exists.

Gideon clutched the bars of the crib. The railing was too high for him to look over and down on the baby bundled in a wool blanket, so he settled for this obscured view. He could still see the fat face looking at him. Its eyes were closed, asleep. Drool dripped from its puckered lips.

“I hate you,” Gideon whispered.

This thing was his little sister. It would’ve been the same with a little brother—maybe worse. A brother would’ve been a copy of himself trying to fill a role that Gideon had apparently outgrown. He was getting too big, too smart. He could walk and get dressed on his own. He wasn’t the baby anymore. Disgustingly unfair.

“You’re so ugly,” he commented a little more loudly. Mum was in the bathroom and Papa was not home. He could risk saying naughty things, and say them he would. It felt good and bad at the same time. But just because it was naughty to call his little sister ugly didn’t make it less true. Mummy cooed over this wrinkled, pudgy beast like it was a kitten or a puppy. Gideon would have liked a kitten or puppy a lot better.

“Mummy will never love you more than me. I won’t let her. She was my mummy first.” The same went for Papa, but Mummy was more important. Mummy read books to him, showed him how to build with the blocks, called him her little prince. Would she do those things with the creature, too? Well, at least she would call it ‘princess’ instead.

Yuck.

“You’ll never be a princess. You’re a toad.”

The baby’s arm twitched. Its little fish mouth opened and closed.

Gideon went still. If the thing woke up and cried, Mum would think he’d done something. This thing had him in its tiny clutches.

Mum and Papa didn’t understand. Maybe some of the kids in his kindergarten class would. He hadn’t made any close friends yet after a couple months of school in Storybrooke. Maybe this would help him win a few. Someone had to understand!

The bathroom door creaked open. His breath catching, Gideon glanced down the hall. Mum hadn’t hear him, had she? When she stepped out the bathroom doorway, she didn’t look angry. A smile bloomed as she spied him and came to the bedroom. Gideon wanted to believe she was smiling at him, but that probably wasn’t so. Would she ever smile at him again? Just him?

“That’s sweet of you,” Mummy whispered. She knelt next to him. “You’re keeping Téa company.”

The boy was silent. He’d made a comment before—in the hospital, in fact—that he did not like his new sister and wanted Mummy to put it back in her tummy, or give it away to someone else. His mum was more hurt than angry while Papa scolded him for saying such a mean thing. He was a smart boy, as his parents and teachers told him. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Mum ran her fingers over his scalp, just the way he liked it. “Sweetie, I hope you don’t feel we’ve been giving Téa all the attention.”

Gideon didn’t have enough guile to tell her that no, he understood perfectly why it looked like he was being replaced. Instead, he let the pain rest in a crease between his eyebrows. He stared at his shoes.

She pouted in sympathy and rubbed his back. “Remember your first day at school? You got a lot of attention because you were the new kid.”

He frowned. Why was she bringing this up? For the first few days, the teacher had encouraged his classmates to answer any questions he had about the activities. A few kids had approached to say hi, even to invite him to play, but he never felt special for it. He had been an outsider. The feeling hadn’t gone away.

“But as time goes by,” Mum continued, “things became normal. Now you’re just part of the class like everyone else. It’s the same with Téa. She’s a new member of our family, and it’s exciting. But after a while, things will feel normal. Does that make sense?”

Gideon shook his head.

His mum sighed. She plopped her butt on the floor, then pulled him into her lap. Gideon giggled as she tickled him. The laughter scattered his morose mood.

“Your papa and I love you, Gid. You will always be our little prince. And now you have a sister to love, along with us.”

“I don’t know,” Gideon muttered. He didn’t want to talk about the fatty-faced grub in the crib. He wanted to curl up in his mother’s arms and pretend they were back in the big city, where the burning smells of construction machinery and exhaust mixed with the sweet aromas of delicious food shops, and where everyone was always going somewhere, too busy to notice anything strange about you. That was home—the three of them and the city, instead of four in this muted, busybody town.

“Just give it time,” Mum said. She squeezed his middle in a hug and kissed his cheek. “You’re her big brother, after all. She’ll look up to you.”

A whine peeped from the crib. Gideon and Mum eyed the baby. As they stood, Belle crept over to check on the creature. Her face softened with love.

Gideon grabbed his mother’s hand. She was going to give all that love away to that thing if he didn’t stop her!

“All right,” Mum whispered, “let’s go.”

It was a small triumph, but Gideon gladly took it while also taking his mother away.

A part of him knew he couldn’t fight the tide of change forever. He would have to learn to share, to be mature and responsible, to grow up faster than he wanted. And it was all his sister’s fault. For that, he’d never forgive the wee beast.

[kyber-queen]

of silver and steel (wolffe x f!reader regency AU)

Summary: Reader is a mercenary hired to protect Duke!Wolffe without his knowledge. Shenanigans ensue.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: One (1) innuendo, mentions of weapons, an exorbitant amount of pride and prejudice-esque Female Gaze

Author’s Note: Hey guys! I wrote this MONTHS ago and found it sitting in my files and thought I'd just post it so I don't forget about it again. Lmk if you'd be interested in me writing any more of this!

***

Your reflection stared back at you from your vanity mirror. Your face was painted in the fashion of the time—cheeks flushed coral and lips stained a Persian rose-red. You smiled to yourself, smoothing your hands over your bodice—it was a deep forest green, with a bold golden line down the center. It was your personal favorite, and it would serve your purposes well that evening. One gloved hand lifted elegantly from your form to hover over the objects adorning your vanity. You settled over an elaborate golden-hilted dagger. You tested its weight in your hand before guiding its tip to the rim of your bodice, sliding the weapon into the pre-stitched gap in the fabric. Only the hilt remained visible, but against the golden embroidery, it appeared altogether unrecognizable as a dagger, taking the form of an ornate golden cross emblazoned across your chest. You hummed in approval.

You were to be attending a gala tonight, with the proceeds benefitting the construction of a second dormitory within the orphanage in the capitol, Coruscant. It was sure to be a rather raucous event—the more rambunctious of the younger nobility had accepted the invitation—but your mind was far from drinking and gallivanting. You were there for one explicit purpose: to protect the Duke. The Duke did not know this, of course. From what you had heard, Duke Wolffe Fett was a rather imposing figure, and this combined with his military service made him rather vehemently opposed to the notion that he was unable to protect himself. His brothers had solicited your services as a mercenary in secret after the Duke had experienced three separate attempts on his life, all of which he had managed to fend off on his own.

Your mission was quite straightforward—make the Duke’s acquaintance, and remain nearby should trouble arise. Nerves prickled at the tips of your fingers. While quite comfortable with a blade in your hand, you were much less well-versed in these hierarchical social scenarios. Your eyes flicked back up to your reflection in the mirror, your gaze centering in on the cross adorning your bodice. Your gloved fingertips dragged across the textured surface of the dagger hilt. You looked the part of the elaborately dressed nobility; all you needed to do now was match their mannerisms.

***

The ballroom hummed with energy. Conversation and music flowed freely through the air, the Ladies in their best gowns and the Lords in their sharply pressed suits intermingling in small groups. Wolffe strolled from cluster to cluster, making his necessary introductions but never remaining in one group too long. He preferred to remain on the fringes—he was here for the benefit of the orphanage only. The hedonistic tendencies of his contemporaries at these supposedly charitable gatherings often disagreed with his more refined sensibilities. Wolffe had hoped he could escape the evening without engaging in the drunken small talk he so despised, but an old family ally beckoning him forward was a clear indication otherwise.

Wolffe now stood stiffly amongst a small circle of aristocrats, his features set firmly as he made tense conversation. The socialites were already quite inebriated, and the donation ledger had long been forgotten in favor of partaking of the complimentary spirits.

Wolffe cleared his throat.

“Sir Roger, have you yet had the opportunity to tour the orphans’ asylum in Coruscant?”

The man looked at Wolffe incredulously.

“Why in the blazes would I do that?”

Wolffe’s eyes narrowed. The man, obviously too taken by liquor to remember his station, placed a casual hand on Wolffe’s shoulder.

“You must have learned by now, my good man, that events like these,” The man gestured to the throngs of aristocrats conversing in clusters about the ballroom, “Are merely a justification for drinking and merriment,”. The man punctuated his sentence with a particularly loud hiccup.

Repulsed by the man’s uncouth behavor, Wolffe took a step back. The man’s hand fell from his shoulder. Wolffe opened his mouth to respond, but the smooth lilt of your voice drew his attention.

“Perhaps, Sir, were you not so unfeeling toward the plight of the needy you would see the larger purpose of events like these,” you quoted. The man stepped back, stunned, effectively making room for your presence.

Wolffe turned to you, his eyes catching yours for a moment before turning back to the aristocrat.

“I find myself in agreement with the Lady. This ‘justification for drinking and merriment’ will provide the funds to house at least a hundred needy children,” Wolffe’s lip wrinkled slightly in disgust, and the man fell entirely silent. “Good day, Sir,”.

The man turned to make his exit, leaving you alone with the Duke. He watched the drunkard stumble away, shaking his head slightly before fixing his intense gaze on you. Before he could say a word, you extended a snifter of brandy in his direction. He accepted the drink, tilting his head slightly at the gesture.

“I’m glad we can agree, Sir…” You trailed off your sentence, waiting for the Duke to fill in the blank.

“Duke Wolffe Fett,” He offered.

You widened your eyes in feigned surprise.

“Your Grace,” You murmured, dropping into a curtsy.

You rose, and when you met his eyes you noticed his eyebrow was raised slightly. He was one of the highest-ranking noblemen in Coruscant—had you presented yourself as too oblivious?

The Duke sipped his drink as you reeled for something to say.

“It’s unusual for a man of your status to have such high regard for personal involvement in charitable contribution,”.

Wolffe glanced up from his drink, pausing to look you over.

“Is there a question in there or are you merely observing?”

His tone was difficult to read—you assumed this was an invitation to inquire more directly.

“Why exactly does a young Duke such as yourself harbor so much respect for the common people?”

Wolffe hummed.

“It is my duty as a ruler to defend and uplift my people. There is no honor in wasting away your days indulging in mindless drink and frivolity,”.

You nodded in assent, falling into what you hoped was a pleasant silence.

The Duke seemed content to stand wordlessly at your side, and you understood that the less you spoke the less of an opportunity you had to make a faux pas. Your eyes darted about the room—having made your introduction your mind now focused entirely on detecting any plausible threats. You glanced over to his brothers, Boost and Sinker. They appeared engaged in conversation, and you quickly turned your attention elsewhere. A man stepped in front of the string quartet, clinking his glass. You feigned attention, scanning the crowd as pieces of the man’s speech filtered in and out of audibility.

“…And with that, let the dancing begin!”

Wolffe rolled his eyes, taking another swig of his drink

You watched as several ladies scurried to the floor, eager to partner with the gentlemen that had made their way to the open space in the center of the room. You watched closely as the many pairs began to twirl in rhythm with the string quartet. It was more crowded on the dance floor—here, on the fringes, the Duke was exposed. Keeping him hidden and occupied among the many dancers would complicate the efforts of any potential assassins. Was it within a lady’s right to ask the Duke to dance?

“Sir, would you grant me the pleasure of accompanying me on the dance floor?”

Wolffe’s head whipped to your direction—he seemed tense. You glanced over your shoulder, wondering whether he had spotted someone behind you. Neglecting to observe the presence of any potential assailant, you turned back to the Duke and affixed him with your most charming smile.

“As you wish, my Lady,”.

He offered his elbow, and you placed your gloved hand over his lightly. You strolled in tandem to the dance floor, and at the next pause in music, you each took your place across from each other in the line of dancers. Your eyes locked on his. One of his eyes was golden-brown, gleaming in the candlelit ballroom. The other seemed to be tinted white, with a long vertical scar reaching from just above his brow to the apple of his cheek. He was quite handsome, you noted. His gaze was intense, never seeming to leave your face, even as you pressed your gloved palm against his to begin the dance. His hand was quite large, and you felt its heat through the thin silk of your glove. Your breath stuttered as he brought his other hand to your waist. He gripped you firmly, each individual fingertip making its presence known as they pressed into your bodice. You inhaled, bringing your attention back to the task at hand.

You placed your other hand at his upper arm. He wordlessly lifted your hand to his shoulder, his eyebrow quirking slightly as he began to lead you through the dance. You felt your cheeks grow warm.

The music grew livelier, and the Duke shifted both his hands to your waist. His thumb pressed against the dagger concealed in your bodice as he lifted you into the air. The metal pressed, cool and foreboding, into your stomach. You masked your shocked gasp with a breathless giggle as your feet once again contacted the ground.

You stumbled, stepping to the right instead of the left. The Duke’s hand dug into your waist, pulling you sharply to the correct direction, and by coincidence, closer into his chest. He was warm. You offered a quiet ‘thank you’ at his correction, and he nodded stiffly. You felt the flexion and tension of his shoulder muscles under your palm. He was strong, you noted. This combined with his previous corrections caused your cheeks to heat even more than you thought possible. Focus on the mission. The music ceased, and before you could speak, his hand was gripping your forearm and he was dragging you off the dance floor.

You made eye contact with Sinker and Boost, the latter giving you an inquisitive look as Wolffe led you away from the ballroom. You turned your wild gaze back to the Duke. His fingers tightened around your forearm, gripping you hard enough to leave a bruise. He led you down a hallway, flinging open the first door he saw and roughly pulling you inside.

“Sir, I—”

He yanked you around so your back flattened against his chest. One hand gripped your upper arm while the other splayed across your midriff, pressing down uncomfortably. Pressing the flat edge of your dagger into your stomach. He knew.

His voice rumbled from deep within his chest, his breath hot against the junction between your shoulder and your neck.

“I value candor quite highly—why exactly are you here?”

Your breath hitched, and the pressure on your abdomen increased. You remembered Boost and Sinker’s words—he mustn’t know of your arrangement.

“I don’t know what you mean, Sir, I—” You squirmed against his iron grasp as he cut you off.

“You are no actress, my Lady,”.

You cursed yourself silently. You had been so focused on securing the Duke’s safety you had forgotten to ensure your own. Your hand flew to the hilt of the dagger against your chest, but the Duke’s hand on your upper arm caught your wrist with almost inhuman speed.

“What are you here for? To kill me?” His voice was a snarl.

Adrenaline flooded through your veins, your heart racing.

You drove your heel into his insole, using his shock to wrench yourself from his grasp. You drew your dagger from your bodice with your free hand, your other wrist still encircled within his grip. You gasped for breath, instinctively preparing for a fight. As your mind caught up with your body, you recognized your position and lowered your dagger. Your agreement to secrecy wasn’t worth a life.

“To protect you,” you panted.

Wolffe scoffed, his intense glare centered on your face.

“Your brothers hired me—Sinker and Boost. Said there had been attempts on your life, that they wanted me to look after you,”.

Your eyes searched his, praying that he would believe you. The Duke was a fearsome opponent—if this escalated further, you couldn’t guarantee either of you would walk away injury-free.

The door flew open, Boost and Sinker stumbling into the room.

“Are you both alright? What happened?”

Wolffe’s shoulders fell, and his grip on your wrist loosened. Your hand dropped from his grasp. Recognizing that the situation had been diffused, you reinserted the dagger into your bodice.

“A slight misunderstanding on my part,” Wolffe offered to his brothers before turning to you, “I apologize, my Lady,”. He bowed slightly before offering you his arm.

His gaze rose from the floor to your eyes and he looked at you expectantly. You cocked your head, content to let him stew for a moment. The man did drag you by the wrist across the entire ballroom, after all. His eyes narrowed. You returned his intense gaze before smiling slightly when an unrecognizable emotion flashed across his features, pleased that you had managed to get under his skin.

You took his arm tentatively, and he led you back out to the ballroom.

***

Two weeks had passed since your attendance at the charity gala. Boost and Sinker, though initially concerned by the events of the evening, had maintained that you remain in the area should they require your services once more. Your payment from that night would cover your stay at the local inn twelve times over. The town was quaint—its center held a tavern, a church, a few scattered shops, as well as the inn at which you were staying. You had inquired as to where the Duke’s residence was on your second day in town, finding out from the barkeep that his estate lay a few miles from the town outskirts.

The barkeep had said it was a lovely piece of property. He himself had not had the pleasure of visiting, but he had heard tales of its rolling green hills, lush forests, and the clear brook that bubbled just on the edge of the terrain. While you acknowledged the appeal of the property, your mind was much more entranced by its rather solemn proprietor. Your admittedly dull days were spent deep in thought, poring over your final interactions before the evening had ended.

Wolffe led you back into the ballroom, back to the deserted corner in which you two had been conversing before you had suggested some dancing to lighten the mood.

He motioned to a table with his head, pulling out a chair for you to sit in before taking a seat himself.

His eyes, intense and intoxicating, seemed to bore right through your soul. It was unsettling, yet something about his gaze resonated deep within your chest. Your cheeks flushed, against your will. You took another cursory glance about the room, ensuring that no suspicious figures had made themselves known.

“So, you’re a mercenary?”

Your eyes flashed back to the Duke, a slight smile creeping across your face. You nodded.

“I trained with a well-respected swordsman for quite a few years. Took a few odd jobs here and there as a sellsword, but my ‘unusual’ position made me much more suited for espionage. People rarely notice an extra woman in the household—makes it easier to slip in, do what needs to be done, and slip out,”.

Wolffe’s gaze lingered on your face.

“I find it hard to believe that no one would notice you,”

You snorted, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. The Duke raised an eyebrow in response. Your behavior could hardly be described as refined—despite your earlier attempts—yet something about your casual air drew Wolffe in more than he’d like to admit.

“Tonight was a one-off. Typically, I’m much more discreet,”.

Wolffe shook his head with a barely-there smile.

“Oh, I’m sure,”.

A knock at the door of your room drew you from your recollections. You grabbed the handle of your dagger from the nightstand before peeking into the door’s spyhole. A courier stood, impatiently shifting from foot to foot, with a letter in hand. You opened the door.

“From Duke Fett,” the courier spoke, before darting off to deliver his next letter. Ensuring that no one had followed the boy to the inn, you closed the door behind you and tore open the letter.

It had been closed by an elaborate red wax seal, and you rolled your eyes before dropping the envelope to the ground. Typical nobility.

You scanned the letter quickly, noting the elegant handwriting marking the page while pacing the floor. It was a dinner invitation. You gulped.

Your experience with the nation’s nobility was admittedly quite limited, and you dreaded making yet another grave social error. Still, the Duke intrigued you, and anything was better than holing up in this godforsaken inn for yet another evening. You searched for your quill to pen a reply, but on a second reading of the letter, you noticed that the author had made no mention of an RSVP. The Duke had simply stated his wish for your presence at dinner. You assumed that he was not a man used to the denial of such wishes. You placed your quill back into its case, and readied a gown for the evening ahead.

***

A carriage was at your door three hours later. You took one last glance in the mirror—your gown was a deep blue, with a concealed pocket hidden within its skirt. Your dagger rested comfortably against your hip. You turned away from your reflection to meet the footman at the door. He helped you into the carriage before taking his seat at its front. You watched as the town slowly faded from view, little buildings being replaced by the moor surrounding the town. Low-lying shrubbery and taller grasses swayed in the wind, flashes of purple and green arraying the tawny scenery. You spotted a swatch of trees in the distance. The barkeep had mentioned something about a forest, right? That must be the edge of the Duke’s estate.

The carriage rumbled along the road, until the well-kept path grew over with the same grasses blanketing the moor. You furrowed your brow. Were you in the right place? Your hand travelled to the dagger at your hip. One could never be too careful, you reasoned.

The carriage stopped abruptly, nearly shaking you from your seat. Before you stood a large iron gate, flanked on both sides by tall evergreens. The footman stepped off the carriage to open the gate, its doors swinging open to reveal a wide cobblestone path. The horses’ hooves clacked rhythmically against the stone. Your eyes traced the path, following it to where it met its end and widening at what you saw.

Fett Manor was, quite simply, breathtaking. Dark grey stone, blanketed in ivy, rose up tall from the well-maintained gardens. Candles flickered in the many windows, giving the manor a gentle glow as it imposed upon the dusk-reddened sky. The carriage stopped at the crest of the U-shaped drive. You looked out at the tall oak doors, tentatively stepping out of the carriage and refusing the footman’s aid.

You marched up the front steps, tapping your knuckles gently at the door. You glanced over your shoulder at the footman, and to your surprise, he was already gone. The clacking of the horses’ hooves was still audible—the footman must have headed back to the livery stable.

The large doors swung open smoothly, and you were greeted by the sight of a kind-faced elderly woman. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her simple dress indicated that she was part of the staff. You offered a gentle smile.

You introduced yourself, dropping into a deep curtsy. The woman gave a small chuckle.

“There’s no need for that, dearie. I’m just the housekeeper,”.

Your cheeks heated as you rose from your curtsy.

The woman motioned for you to enter. You stepped inside tentatively, observing the high ceiling and grand staircase. The floors and stairs were solid and wooden, and the décor was elegant if not a bit dated. The manor seemed to walk the line between homey and formal. In your time as a mercenary, you had learned that a person’s surroundings could tell you much about their character. What did this tell you about the Duke?

“This way,” the woman spoke, leading you through the great room and into the dining room.

Boost and Sinker were already seated at the long oaken able, grinning when they saw you enter.

“Good evening, gentlemen,”.

The formality seemed to drip from your tone. Were you alone, you might have laughed at the pretense.

They offered you a greeting in response, before diving into the meat of the conversation.

“My lady, before our brother arrives, we have to ask you something,” Boost stated.

“Ask away,” you smiled.

“I’m sure the inn is quite nice, but would you consider staying at the estate? Just last week, the gardener spotted someone attempting to enter the premises through the back gate. Wolffe dealt with em’, but he’s been on edge, lately. Might do him good to know he’s not the only one on the lookout all the time,”.

Sinker exchanged a look with his brother.

Fett’s estate was certainly preferable to your rather cramped room at the inn, and if nothing else, you could spend your days wandering the moors instead of your one-room apartment.

“I accept,”.

“Accept what?”

You spun in your seat to face the Duke. He rolled his overcoat off his shoulders and took a seat at the head of the table, directly opposite you.

“We have a new houseguest, Wolffe,” Sinker grinned.

Wolffe glanced incredulously at Boost, as if to check whether or not he had heard his brother correctly. Boost shrugged as Wolffe settled into his seat at the head of the table.

“She’s gonna stay in one of the spare rooms so she can keep an eye out for you—maybe you can get some real sleep for once,” Boost said with a grin.

Wolffe nodded slowly.

“Alright,” he turned to address the housekeeper, who stood patiently in the doorway. “Mrs. Nu, would you mind preparing a room for our guest?”

The woman nodded swiftly before exiting the room with a twirl of her skirt, leaving you alone with the Duke and his two brothers.

“So you’re an assassin, right? Does that mean you always carry a weapon—”

The Duke cleared his throat rather loudly, interrupting Sinker’s stream of questions.

“Was your stay in town pleasant, my lady?”

You nodded.

“Very much so, your grace. I’d like to thank you for your invitation to dinner this evening, as well,”.

A sommelier materialized from behind you, filling your glass half-full with a dark red liquid.

“Mulberry wine,” Boost clarified. “The cook makes it himself in the summertime,”.

You uttered a quiet ‘thank you’ to the sommelier before taking a sip. It was sweet, the flavor of summer-ripened berries fresh and warm on your tongue. You set the glass back down on the sturdy oak table, taking a moment to admire its fine craftsmanship. Your eyes flicked back up to the Duke, whose gaze met yours as he raised his own glass to his lips. His accented voice cut the silence.

“Did you find time to visit the bookseller while in town? I’m told he has a new translation of The Odyssey in stock,”.

You shook your head.

“I’m afraid I didn’t. Are you quite partial to Homer’s works, sir?”

“I am, my lady,”.

You grinned.

“I myself prefer Virgil, but I cannot cast blame on your respect for the Blind Poet,”.

Wolffe hummed in approval as your eyes darted over to his brothers, who had been watching your exchange with increasing interest. Sinker cleared his throat.

“Are you fond of riding, my lady? I’m sure the Duke would be pleased to have you accompany him," Sinker paused, blinked, and in an instant turned as red as the Manor's garden roses. "--on his journey into town, that is. You could collect your belongings from the inn, as well,”.

Boost snorted as Wolffe choked on his drink. Your eyes widened as you absorbed what you hoped was an accidental innuendo. Your face rivaled Sinker’s in redness. Your mind reeled for a response, hoping to smooth over the embarrassment.

“I—I do have some experience on horseback. I’d like to visit the bookseller—if the Duke doesn’t mind the company, of course,”.

Your gaze traveled back to the Duke’s face.

“I’d be much delighted, my lady,”.

You smiled lightly. It was settled.

***

Your first night spent in Fett Manor was nothing if not memorable. After a rich dinner rife with conversation, you had been lead by Mrs. Nu to one of the most luxurious rooms you had seen in your life. A silk nightdress rested across the fine linen bedspread.

“I figured it would be more comfortable to sleep in than your corset, dearie,” Mrs. Nu had said.

Comfortable had been an understatement. You woke up late in the morning feeling more well-rested than you had been in years.

You tugged the down comforter up to your chin and extended your legs under the covers with a sigh. Light filtered in through the window, covering the room in a golden haze. You needed to get up.

You flipped back the covers with an exaggerated sigh, your bare feet meeting the cold wooden floor. You scooped up your gown, which you had rested carefully on a rather stately chair in the corner of the room. Your fingers coasted over the hem of your nightdress—you made a mental note to thank Mrs. Nu for lending it to you.

Once you had redonned your significantly less comfortable gown, you opened the door to your room and strolled down the spiral staircase to the great room.

The house felt surprisingly empty—a glance at the clock told you it was later than you had previously thought. Still, unease prickled at your spine. You peeked around the corner into the kitchen—it was empty, save for a plate of scones that had been left out from breakfast. You took one in your hand, biting into it as you continued your search.

A clang from outside the manor caught your attention. You hastily made your way to the side door, flinging it open with one hand as your other curled around the dagger in your dress. Your scone fell to the floor, forgotten.

Your lips parted in astonishment. The door had opened to reveal the Duke, with an elaborate silver spear in hand. His broad chest rose up and down as he spun the weapon with surprising speed and grace for a man of his size. Your eyes traced the strong lines of his arms, following all the way down to where his hands wrapped tightly around the spear. You drew in a sharp breath.

The Duke turned abruptly, lowering the weapon as recognition crossed his features.

“I apologize for the interruption, your grace,” you stuttered out, sheathing your dagger back into your skirt.

“It’s alright, my lady,” Wolffe assured. He rested the spear against the garden wall. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you,”. Your eyes danced back over to the spear. “An unconventional choice of weapon,” you noted.

The Duke’s eyes followed your gaze over to the spear before locking back on your face.

“I am a man of unconventional tastes,” he replied.

You nodded politely. He intrigued you­­––his skill with a weapon was undeniable. You had assumed you’d be able to hold your own against him in a fight before, but his use of the spear certainly changed the game. You made up your mind to review defensive tactics against spears once you returned from the bookseller. Wolffe posed no iminent danger to you, but he did present himself as a rather attractive sparring partner. You grinned slightly.

Wolffe turned back around to his spear, wiping off the point and grip with a silk cloth before making his way to the door. You followed, nearly tripping over a rosebush as your skirt caught on its thorns. His hand came to your shoulder instinctively. You inhaled sharply.

“I—I’ll have the stable boy ready the horses,” he murmured. He left your side in a swirl of disturbed air, the slam of the door to his study cutting through the morning silence. You huffed. You supposed his abruptness was typical for his demeanor and not a reaction to some perceived slight against him. At least you’d have time to eat.

You plucked another scone from the kitchen counter. You strolled over to the window near the wash basin, looking out the window to examine the property. Just behind the glass lay the garden where the Duke had practiced his spear-wielding. Further on, you saw a well-manicured lawn, and even further––at the base of the hill––trees sprung up at the lawn’s border. The forest stretched as far as you could see, though in between the thick evergreen branches you were certain you spied a glimpse of running water. That must have been the brook the barkeep had talked about.

Satisfied with your cursory examination of the terrain, you turned back around to face the kitchen, leaning comfortably against the countertop. To your left was an array of fine china, and to your right sat a full shelf of exotic spices. You meandered over to the spice rack, selecting a small jar of saffron and allowing the weight of the glass to roll across your palm. That small jar was worth as much as three weeks of your income. Despite the luxury he lived in, you knew the Duke was far from selfish. After the charity gala, you had examined the donor breakdown. Wolffe had contributed enough to singlehandedly sustain the orphanage for at least a year. Your brows furrowed. Typically, you were quick to figure out these old-money types, but the Duke seemed to be a conundrum. He was quiet, but made use of the words he spoke. Intelligent, with a military background—you suspected that was how he obtained his scar. He was wealthy, but if he didn’t give so much to charity, he’d surely be one of the richest men in Coruscant—aside from the king, of course. As you returned the saffron to the spice rack, your fingers caught on a small leather-bound notebook. You pried it out from between the thyme and oregano, flipping back the cover to reveal pages of recipes in neat, structured print. You noticed Wolffe’s name under one of the more recent ones. You chucked to yourself—he seemed to be full of surprises.

Another glance out the window revealed two horses––one black and one white––stationed just outside the garden walls. You darted out of the kitchen to the front door, almost startled when the Duke emerged silently from his study to walk at your side.

“Do you ride side-saddle, my lady?”

“I do,” you offered, curtsying slightly as he opened the heavy oak door and motioned for you to exit.

The white horse had already been fitted with an elaborate leather saddle, nicer than anything you had ridden on in your life. Hell, you rode bareback most of the time. You turned to Wolffe, whose lips curved into the beginnings of a grin. You smiled in return.

“Can I—” you motioned to the horse.

“Be my guest,” he replied.

***

Taglist: @peacefulwizardfox @nelba @marvel-starwars-nerd @a-lil-perspective

[wangxianficfinder]

CHARACTERS REACT FICS -

~*~

WATCHING THE SERIES -

~*~

Yearning for Miles by Murahi (M, 378k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, Mutual Pining, seeing the future)

Song of Joy and Regrets by HelloKitten (Not Rated, 134k, WIP, WangXian, Angst, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Time Travel Fix-it)

Disclosed Regrets by HuaisangsIntellect (Not Rated, 136k, WIP, WangXian, Fluff, Angst, Crack, Fix-it)

Music Heals All Forms Of Misery by idontknowwhatimdoinghalfthetime (T, 53k, WIP, WangXian, Fix-It of Sorts, Songfic, Past Character Death, Heavy Angst, Self-Esteem Issues)

Tragedy That Befall Upon Us by xoxoholic (M, 89k, WIP, WangXian, Angst, Past Major character death, JC&WWX Reconciliation, Humor, Post-canon)

Prewarning: Watching the Manhua by CassandraCastell (Not rated, 15k, WangXian, Manhua verse, Found Family, WIP)

💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not Rated, 279k, WangXian, CQL Verse, Golden core reveal, Fix-it of sorts, Angst with a happy ending)

Mo Dao Zu Shi: The Musical by Loveable_Psychopath (Not Rated, 117k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-it, Song Fic, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking)

Parental Truth by ILikeReading101 (T, 62k, WIP, WangXian, Temporarily alive characters, Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Character bashing)

Every Scar has a Story to Tell by Cinder46231 (M, 121k, WIP, WangXian, Hurt/comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Implied/referenced Child abuse, Self-Harm, Self-Worth issues)

Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, WIP, WangXian, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Heavy Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Worth Issues)

🧡 (Un)Hidden truth by Sarah_R (M, 122k, WIP, WangXian, Suicide attempt, Time Travel, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Self-Harm)

The Characters of MDZS Watching the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by emma_screams (M, 147k, WIP, WangXian, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Drama)

hindsight by wenkexing (M, 16k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon Fix-It of sorts, Humor, Fluff, Angst)

Save us from each other by orphan_account Solbjork (Not Rated, 20k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-it, Hurt/comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Yunmeng Jiang bashing, Yu Ziyuan Bashing)

the truth untold by periwinkle520 (G, 35k, WIP, WangXian, Fluff, Crack, Attempt at humor, Post Canon)

Your Tragedy, Your Song by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (T, 37k, WangXian, Angst with a happy ending, Fix-it, Song fic, Mild body horror)

Wishes that Come True by tinitin (M, 20k, wangxian, major character death, hurt/comfort, guilt, regret, angst w/ happy ending, time travel fix-it, god & goddesses au, WIP)

Chenqing and Wangji Takes Matters Into Their Own Hands by HelloKitten (Not rated, 10k, wangxian, more of glimpsing the future than watching the whole thing)

An immortal's wrath by M0onb0w (T, 5k, wangxian, heavy angst, reunions, guilt, regret, not YZY friendly, underage drinking, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, self-harm, WIP)

Old Endings Lead to New Beginnings by 2wish_4life (M, 80k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, JC & WWX reconciliation, nightmares, hurt/comfort, fluff & angst, BAMF wangxian, established wangxian, getting together for others, WIP)

unhappy stories with happy endings by Last_for_Hell (M, 30k, wangxian, the junior quartet, watching some memories not the whole series, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, references to torture, PTSD, WIP)

💖 Teen Project to Change the World animeloverhomura (Not rated, 744k, wangxian, watching the series, fix-it of sorts, bamf!wwx, WIP)

💖 The Ballad of Hanguang-Jun and The Yiling Patriarch by Theladyofravenclaw (T, 40k, wangxian, JC/WQ, burial mounds settlement days, fix-it of sorts, musical theater au, misunderstandings, outsider pov)

Reliving Memoirs (重温回忆录) by xxwylzwangxian (Not rated, 167k, wangxian, canonical character death, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, drama, romance, homophobia, character development, dark past, BAMF wangxian, not friendly for a lot of characteres, WIP)

The Past and the Future Watching Together by sky34red (Not rated, 3k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, WIP)

Second Chances by Stay_4Ever_18 (Not Rated, 51k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, ChengQing, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst, Attempt at Humor)

A smile that hid the pain by Raven2398 (M, 12k, WIP, WangXian, XiCheng, HuaLian, watching the series, Characters Watching the Show, Fluff, Protective LWJ, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Abuse, YZY Bashing)

Past MDZS watch the future by Charcharnatsu (G, 6k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Watching the Show, Characters Watch/Read Canon, Characters Watching Their Series, MDZS characters watching Mo Dao Zu Shi)

Aᴍᴏʀ sɪɴ ғɪɴ (AU MDZS, Viaje en el tiempo) by ADN_98 (G, 139k, WIP, WangXian, Spanish Fic, Time Travel AU, Gran maestro de la cultivación demoníaca, characters watching their show, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer, Characters Watch/Read Canon/Fanon)

Раскрытые сожаления by Freyra (Not Rated, 33k, WIP, WangXian, Russian Fic, XuanLi, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Everyone ships wangxian, we stan fanboy wrh, Protective JYL, Fierce Corpse WN, Characters Watching Their Series, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It, Scum Villain References, Post-Canon, JC is So Done, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, I am warning you in advance everyone is ooc, Characters Watching the Show)

Lost Dimensions - MDZS Reacts by SkyDownBelow (M, 71k, WIP, WangXian, ZhuiLing, XiCheng, XuanLi, WangXian Get a Happy Ending Soft WangXian, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, JCGets a Hug, LWJ Has Feelings, Good Kid LSZ, LSZ's WangXian's Child, Characters Listening To Songs, Watching the Show, Characters React, Past and Future React, OCs are in the first five chapters, Protective LJY, LJY is a Little Shit, LJY is older, BAMF WWX, Hurt WWX, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Bad Parent YZY, JFM Has Faults, Naive XXC, Canonical Character Death - WWX, This is in the past though)

mdzs au watch the original mdzs by Charcharnatsu (Not Rated, 7k, WIP, WangXian, JFM & YZY Bashing, Bad Parents JFM and YZY, WWX Needs a Hug, Characters Watching Their Series, Characters Watch/Read Canon, MDZS characters watching Mo Dao Zu Shi, Depressed WWX)

Ridiculous viewing by Taekook9597WangXian (T, 1k, WangXian, glimpse of future, past react to future, Characters Watching the Series)

Changing the Fate by 1319nimika (T, 54k, WIP, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, QingJue, Fluff, Smut, Mutual Pining)

The Past Built Up By Lies by SnowRabbit1821 (Not Rated, 17k, WIP, WangXian, Characters Watching Their Series, MDZS Watching, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Nie HuaiSang's Diaries - When Spirits Drift in Time by IlnaHers (T, 27k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, various & relationships, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Reveal, Time Travel, only the diaries though, Characters Watching the Show, Serious WWX, Hurt WWX, Hurt JC, Hurt LWJ, Protective LWJ, Protective JC, Protective WWX, Hurt NHS, Protective NHS, Character Death Reveal, Progressive Reveal, Melancholy, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Angst, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, Sad, Shock, WIP)

Wangxian: Oracle pearl by Abby18699 (G, 183k, WIP, Wang Xian, ChengQing, NieLan, XuanLi, Sunshot Campaign, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Future, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Güsü Lán Juniors Dynamics, JC Needs a Hug, Characters React to Fandom, Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Pining LWJ, Soft LWJ, LWJ Needs a Hug, Inventor WWX, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Characters watching future, Implied Mpreg)

MDZS react to the future by lilyucra (M, 42k, WIP, WangXian, ZhuiLingYi, XiCheng, SangYu, XuanLi, OC / OC, reaction fic, Fix-It of Sorts, Post-Canon, Lan rules will be cited, time travel of sorts, Bad Parents JFM and YZY, Good Uncle LQR, Sect Leader WWX, JGY Needs a Hug, MY is WWX’s head disciple, Sect Leader JL, Major Spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence)

MDZS Characters Watching the Future by Eclipse_Summer (E, 141k, WIP, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, Time Travel Fix-It, Reading the Books, LWJ and WWX Are LSZ's Parents, JC and LXC Are LJY's Parents)

~*~

READING THE NOVEL -

~*~

🧡 Reading Mo Dao Zu Shi by Athane (M, 125k, WIP, WangXian, Post Canon, Spoilers for Novel, Angst, Fluff, Canon relationships)

A Glimpse Of Our Next Life by TimeToRead112 (Not Rated, 5k, WangXian, Time travel, Implied sexual content, Dimensional travel, Light angst, Mutual pining)

🧡 Switched by shorimochi (Not Rated, 95k, YiZhan, WangXian, WWX & XZ Body swap, Dimensional travel, Humor, Light angst, Misunderstandings) (WWX reads the novel after getting switched with XZ and reacts differently to things when switched back)

What Your Heart Desires by pupeez4eva (M, 7k, WangXian, Humor, Crack, WWX is reborn in the modern world after his first death, where the MDZS novel exists, WWX becoming VERY well acquainted with the whole novel)

Redesign by yllzdefender (T, 5k, WIP, WangXian, WWX in WWX's Body, Jiāng Family Bashing, JC Needs a Hug, YZY Bashing, JFM Bashing, LQR Metaphorically Qì-Deviates, Established WangXian, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX, Protective WQ, Protective WN, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Compliant, Good Uncle LQR, Original Character(s), genderfluid WWX, not Jiang friendly)

Rediscovery by getwow21 (Not Rated, 7k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Modern AU, BAMF WWX, BAMF WQ, WWX is a Wen, WWX in WWX's Body, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Time Travel Fix-It, Modern WWX, POV WWX, Protective WQ, WWX & WQ Friendship, Good Sibling WQ, Protective WN, Madam Lan Lives, Wen Remnants Live, Madam Lan Leaves Cloud Recesses, Dimension Travel, No Golden Core Transfer)

[scraps-n-starters]

So I was thinking about the concept of a Soulmate mark au where you get basically a copy of your soulmate's scars but in a character relevant color for Mo Dao Zu Shi and like

It just makes the Wen Brand situation with Wangxian so much angstier. Adjustments for the verse make me want to say 1. color forms as the scar tissue does so the slow steady bleed in of a rusty red onto Lan Wanji as Wei Wuxian heals. 2. the capacity for soulmarks also comes with a golden core so you lose that you lose the marks. For extra knives

(Tbh I dont remember if LWJ uses the brand on himself before or after WWX dies but for plot we're gonna say after. After watching his mirror mark fade and knowing before he ever hears the news the truth of the matter.)

Wei Wuxian waking up with a stark silver mirror mark matching the color his were before, missing all the raised edges of the actual brand and settling a hint of the unease of an unfamiliar body.

(ngl my og idea for this au was some even angstier noise involving junior quartet [platonic or romantic, dealer's choice], an even sadder canon divergence involving itty bitty Lan Sizhui and the Jin peony brand+capacity for cruelty)

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Elvis Presley. When he turned 11, his mother Gladys took him to the Tupelo Hardware Company Store and bought him his first guitar: A 1947 Kay flat-top K19. He’d play this guitar throughout his school years and at his first Sun recording session. Also on this day: In 1956 his double-A single “Don’t Be Cruel/Hound Dog” went to #1 and stayed there for weeks. Fast forward to 1993 and the United States Post Office issued an Elvis Presley stamp.

Sidebar: 1n 1976 David Bowie demo’d the song “Golden Years” with Elvis in mind to cover it (Elvis’s manager Colonel Parker approved but Elvis nixed it even after making a demo). Rewind to 1960 when Elvis recorded the song “Black Star” (later re-titled “Flaming Star”). That song directly inspired the Black Star theme of Bowie’s final work, and it’s remarkable that Bowie was also born on the same day as Elvis.

Elvis looms over my musical life, be it through mindful study or cultural resonance (in 1989 I named my back-up The Rover Boys after the surname for The Million Dollar Quartet a.k.a Elvis’s legendary 1956 jam session with Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Carl Perkins). Like many professional musicians, I started with cover bands playing in bars, and I’m certain I’ve learned many Elvis hits + in my solo set I do gospel songs that he favored.

Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is based on “Plaisir d’Amour,” a 1784 French chanson by Jean-Paul-Égide Martini, re-written by hit-making team Hugo & Luigi w/George David Weiss. The lyrics are informed by poet Alexander Pope and Bible verses. I always enjoyed the tune, but when I heard Bob Dylan cover it, I became inspired to play it. Dylan gave it a gospel flair, and that triangulation with God’s love is what I aim for when I do it. Mmany people have heard me perform it like it is in this video w/Davy Jones (Monkees): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0DvbkAqN_0

Meanwhile, HB EP!

#Elvis #Presley #birthday #black #star #DavidBowie #GoldenYears #Martini #chanson #HugoandLuigi #DavyJones #Monkees #Epiphone #johnnyjblair #Kayguitar #HoundDog #Dontbecruel #king #milliondollarquartet #Johnny #Cash #JerryLeeLewis #CarlPerkins #BobDylan #Dylan #singeratlarge #postage #stamp

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Catherines (part one)

[Heathers AU]

[Tour!verse]

Word count: 3469

-----------------------

-Beautiful-

  “Dear Diary,

Catherine said she teaches people real life. She said, ‘Real life sucks losers dry. If you wanna fuck with the eagles, then you have to learn to fly.’

I said, ‘So you teach people how to fly?’

She said, ‘Yes.’

I said, ‘You’re beautiful.’”

  “GOD, come ON, Elizabeth!”

A muscled, gazelle-like leg slammed into Bessie’s back, causing her to flinch and drag her pen across the journal she was writing in, leaving a black line that obscured some of the words. Bessie wrinkled her nose, then squinted up through the headache-inducing overhead fluorescence to look at the beautiful young woman now standing before her.

Katherine Howard was a sight for sore eyes, that was for sure. Completely unblemished tan skin, wavy dirty blonde hair that fell like sun-kissed silk around her head, striking golden-green eyes, muscles… The hot pink blazer she was wearing fit her body perfectly, and the black skirt she had on to go with it swished gently around her powerful thighs. Technically, they were breaking the dress code, as she didn’t have on any tights to go underneath it, but no teacher seemed to say anything about it. Bessie had to guess it was because of Howard’s father’s status and money.

  “What’s your damage, Katherine?” Bessie snapped, though her voice cracked and wavered slightly, as it always did, rendering her comment about as effective as a baby white lion trying to roar to scare off predators.

  “Don’t blame me, blame Catherine.” Howard retorted smoothly. “She told me to, ‘haul your ass to the cafe pronto.’” She looked up at the other girl standing there. “Back me up, Catherine.”

  “Yeah, she really wants to talk to you, Elizabeth.” Catherine Parr said. She was taller than all of them, but quite a bit meeker than her two fellow K/Catherines. Her curly brown hair was done in a style that made Bessie’s scalp hurt just looking at it, but complimented her even darker brown eyes well. Her skin was the shade of melted caramel, clashing well with her signature color: blue. The blazer she had on such color was as expensive as Howard’s, but slightly more wrinkled and slightly frayed on one sleeve from her messing with the threads when she would read. The skirt she wore was plaid, which most people would find extremely ugly, but Bessie thought it fit Parr.

  “Okay, okay,” Bessie said, standing up from the staircase she had been sitting on. “I’m coming. And, please, Bessie. Call me Bessie. We’ve been friends for, what? A year and a half now? Elizabeth is WAY too formal for me.”

Howard and Parr giggled, making a small smile twitch on Bessie’s lips. She liked making them laugh. Proved she could do one thing right and serve as the comedic relief for the group.

Bessie scooped her belongings up, messily stuffing her diary and pen into her messenger back, and then followed Howard and Parr down the hallway. Anyone standing in the way instinctively moved away like peasants parting for a queen. And they may as well have been, seeing as they were the most popular girls in school.

Okay, well-- at least Howard, Parr, and their quartet leader was. Bessie was more of a plus one, a special exception, a stray they found on the streets and thought was too pitiful to throw away.

Their group was called the Catherines (pretty cool that they managed to get three girls with the name Catherine, right? what luck!), and they ruled Crown Ridge High School. Everyone, from new Year 10s to long-lasting Year 13s, knew of their reign--even the teachers! Nobody messed with them, because they knew there would be hell to pay if they did.

Howard pushed open the set of double doors coming up in front of them, and the trio passed into a world of chaos.

The lunch room was always like this- noisy, thundering, booming, any other synonym for loud… Kids were absolutely everywhere, crammed into the lunch tables or sitting at the bistro or standing in the lunch lines, all talking, worrying, planning, reacting at once. 

And then, in the middle of the mess, there she stood: Catherine of Aragon.

Catherine of Aragon, or Catalina de Aragon as her heritage suggests, was like a yellow diamond in a bat-infested cave. She was gorgeous, that’s for sure, her luscious dark brown hair tied back in a perfect ponytail with thick marigold scrunchy, without a strand out of place, and her fair skin enviably clear. Her eyes were dark and challenging, like twin pieces of polished onyx poised in her sleek skull. The golden silk blazer (Bessie didn’t even know they made silk blazers until she first saw it) she wore glittered in the lights, as if it were charged with electricity, and the black skirt matching with it made her look like the queen of a wasp colony. When she saw Bessie coming over with Howard and Parr, she gave a snake-like smile that only meant she was up to something.

  “Elizabeth,” She said, the only one to never use the nickname no matter how many times she was corrected, “finally.”

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Bessie apologized. She tried to sound mocking, but Aragon didn’t seem affected by the title she was given. If anything, she looked a little satisfied by it.

  “I need you to write a hot and horny, but realistically lowkey note in Anna von Cleves’s handwriting so we can slip it onto Joan Asstley’s lunch tray when she isn’t looking.” Aragon told her, but even stuttering as she laid down her plan.

Anna von Cleves was on the rugby team and so hot she could turn even the straightest women gay. Joan Astley, on the other hand, was a thin, pale-skinned, weird-eyed outcast with no friends and hair as light as Bessie’s own--but natural. The two didn’t exactly mix very well.

  “Shit, Catherine, I don’t have anything against Joan Astley!” Bessie said.

  “Watch your language, little lion,” Howard teased.

Bessie’s ears flamed red. Ever since she got a new haircut, the Catherines would not stop saying the poofy hair on her head made her look like a lion cub.

  “You don’t have anything for her, either.” Aragon told Bessie. Then, abundantly blessed with smugness, she went on, “Come on, it’s be very! The note will give her shower-nozzle masturbation material for weeks.”

Howard and Parr exchanged smirks. Bessie glanced at them and sighed.

  “I’ll think about it,” She said.

  “Don’t think,” Aragon said. “Do.”

Shuffling in one of the lunch lines, Joan was getting ready to pay for her tray of food. She was dressed in a rather ugly clash of overalls and a pink floral undershirt. Aragon wrinkled her nose at the outfit in disgust.

  “Yuck,” She said. “Overalls.”

  “I’m wearing overalls!” Bessie yelped.

  “Yes, but they work on you,” Aragon said, patting Bessie’s head. “Elizabeth needs something to write on. Catherine, bend over.”

Parr sighed and bent over. A clipboard was shoved into Bessie’s hands, and Bessie had no choice but to use her friend as a portable desk and write the things Aragon began to say to her. When she was finished, she tore the page free and folded it up for Howard to deliver, which she did smoothly and painlessly without being noticed.

  “And now we wait,” Aragon said with a pleased smirk. “Come, ladies. I brought lunch.”

The four of them gathered at their claimed table, where clean, neatly cut sandwiches were placed out in each of their spots, along with some fruit and vegetable slices and cookies.

  “Turkey, ham, and cheese, mozzarella and swiss specifically, with a dash of mustard for Catherine,” Aragon declared. “BLT for me and Katherine. And then, a grilled cheese for Elizabeth.”

They all tittered at the last named food item. Bessie grinned cheekily at them.

  “What?” She said innocently. “At least I didn’t ask for a peanut butter and butter sandwich like last time!”

  “I still cannot believe you asked me to make a damn peanut butter and BUTTER sandwich,” Aragon said. “You are a creature, I hope you know that.”

  “I do,” Bessie giggled. “And it is GOOD, okay? I like butter!”

  “I’ll bring you a tub of butter when it’s my turn to bring lunch,” Parr joked, and she and Bessie flashed each other smiles.

  “I look forward to it!” Aragon rolled her eyes at them in an amused way while Howard chuckled and shook her head. Somewhere behind their table, a pair of kids at a booth were shouting about donating to a charity for Africa.

  “Blount,” Aragon said, “Guess what today is.”

Bessie watched the older girl grab the clipboard and flip to a new page, and sighed. “Lunchtime poll? What’s the question?”

  “Yeah, so what’s the question, Catherine?” Parr asked.

  “Goddamn, Catherine,” Aragon said. “You were with me in study hall when I came up with it.”

  “I forgot!”

Aragon snorted. “Such a pillowcase,” She muttered gruffly.

  “This wouldn’t be the bizarro thing you babbling about on the phone last night, is it?” Bessie tilted her head. 

  “Of course it is.” 

Aragon and Bessie stood up to begin, and that’s when Bessie noticed someone staring at them. It wasn’t exactly uncommon, what with them being the most popular girls in the school, but she didn’t recognize this gawker. He looked...different. Different in a way she just couldn’t put her finger on. And she was so focused on trying to figure out exactly what it was that she didn’t even realize she was careening to the side until she bumped into someone.

  “Oh-- Sorry!” Bessie said, then noticed that the person she had accidentally knocked into was Maria de Salinas, an old friend of hers. “Maria! Hey!”

Maria smiled. “Hi, Bessie.”

  “Hey, I’m really sorry I couldn’t come to your birthday last month.” Bessie blurted without even thinking it. Aragon rolled her eyes at her side. 

  “It’s okay,” Maria said. “Your mum said you had a big date. I’d probably miss my own birthday party for a date.”

Bessie felt a twinge of pain in her heart. She nudged Maria with a light laugh to try and get it to go away.

  “Don’t say that,” She said.

  “You know what?” Maria opened her bag. “I was looking around the other day and dug up these old photographs.” She handed a photo of her and Bessie during Halloween when they were younger, in which Maria was a fairy and Bessie was a bat.

  “Oh, wow!” Bessie exclaimed, looking down at the picture with sparkling eyes. “This-- Wow. It brings back so many memories!”

  “Come ON, Elizabeth!” Aragon said, yanking Bessie by the arm and making her drop the photo.

  “I was talking to somebody!” Bessie barked as she was hauled towards a table with a cluster of popular kids.

  “Oh well,” Aragon said dismissively. She halted them both in front of the table. “Hello, kids. Anne. Love your sweater.”

The head of the table, Anne Boleyn, glanced suspiciously up at Aragon before smiling tightly. She ran her hand over the sleeve of the designer emerald green sweater she was wearing.

  “Thanks,” She said. “I just got it last night at The Limited. Totally blew my allowance.”

Aragon nodded like she cared, then read off of the clipboard, “Check this out: You win five million from the Publisher Sweepstakes, and the same day that Big Ed guy gives you the check, aliens land on the Earth and say they’re going to blow it up in two days. What do you do?”

  “That’s easy,” Said another kid sitting at the table, Thomas Cromwell, before Anne even had the chance to give her own answer. “I’d just slide that wad right over to my father, ‘cause he is, like, one of the top brokers in the country.”

Aragon stared at him like a hawk watching a crippled mouse until Thomas wiped that stupid smirk off of his face. Bessie snorted lightly.

  “If I got that money, I’d give it all to charity.” Anne said.

  “You’re beautiful.” Bessie said.

Aragon growled deep in her throat. Bessie sidled around her and began walking to a new table. Aragon followed after her.

  “If you’re going to openly be a bitch…” Aragon began.

  “It’s just--” Bessie sighed, hoping to catch Aragon before she broke out on one of her furious tangents. “Catherine, why can’t we try talking to other people?”

  “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” Aragon spat. “Do I look like Mother Teresea to you?”

  “Well, you are Catholic, so…”

Aragon flicked Bessie in the nose, eliciting a tiny yelp of pain. 

  “We have a reputation to uphold here, Elizabeth.” Aragon said. “Don’t act stupid. I know you aren’t.”

  “Does it not bother you that everybody at this school thinks you’re a piranha?” Bessie asked.

  “Like I give a shit.” Aragon answered breezily. “They all want me either as a friend or a fuck. I’m worshipped here, and you can be, too. And you’re just a Year 11.” She ruffled Bessie’s hair, earning a disgruntled noise from the girl.

  “Come on, Catherine.” Bessie said. She brushed out of place white locks out of her face and looked up at Aragon. “Please?”

Aragon gazed down at Bessie, then wrinkled her nose. “Ugh,” She growled. “Don’t look at me with those big, stupid eyes of yours. Come on.”

Bessie beamed. “Thank you!” She chirped.

And so, they went around the cafeteria, asking the lunchtime poll question to a variety of new people, most of which looked startled that the two of them were even talking to them. They got an abundance of answers, varying from normal, to interesting, to completely weird. But they were the types of answers they had never gotten before this day. By the time they were done, Joan Astley had read through the note given to her and was starting to get up from her table.

  “Come on, come on!” Parr waved Aragon and Bessie over excitedly. 

  “It’s happening!” Howard whisper-yelled.

The four of them watched as meek little Joan staggered her way over to the jock table, where Anna von Cleves and other various athletes sat, talking loudly. The girl stuttered something to Anna, then set the note down, which was immediately snatched up by Francis Dereham. After a moment of reading, he burst out into laughter, followed by everyone else at the table when the paper was passed around. Joan’s eyes filled with tears and she ran out of the cafeteria.

The Catherines were all laughing, while Bessie just frowned, guilt racing through her. Aragon noticed her expression and sighed heavily. She began to run her long shellac fingernails through Bessie’s hair, straightening and smoothing out the mess on the top of her head.

  “You wanted to be a part of the most powerful clique in school, honey,” Aragon said. “If I wasn’t already the head of it, I’d want the same thing.” She made a tiny braid, then released the girl.

  “Who’s that guy over there?” Bessie asked, nodding at the young man that had been staring at them. She didn’t know how to reply to Aragon, so she just decided to switch the topics.

  “His name is Henry Tudor,” Howard answered her. “He’s in my Economics class.”

Bessie nodded slowly, picked up the clipboard form off of their lunch table, then began to walk over to the new guy.

The first thing she noticed was the trench coat he was wearing. The second thing was that he was built like a bear- large and powerful. His hair was golden blonde and he had piercing bright blue eyes. A smirk curled on his lips when he saw her coming over.

  “Hello, Henry Tudor,” Bessie said.

  “Greetings and salutations.” Henry replied languidly. “You a Catherine?”

  “I’m a Bessie,” Bessie said. “Not in a cow way, though, Just my nickname.”

Henry chuckled and nodded. “I see.” 

  “This may seem like a really stupid question,” Bessie said, raising the clipboard up.

  “There are no stupid questions.” Henry said.

  “You win five million from the Publisher Sweepstakes, and the same day that Big Ed guy gives you the check, aliens land on the Earth and say they’re going to blow it up in two days. What do you do?”

Henry furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.” He said. “I don’t know. Maybe row out to the middle of a lake somewhere, bring a bottle of tequila, my sax, and some Bach. Then I’ll just sit back and watch the fires come.”

Bessie nodded, smiling, despite the weird gut feeling she had that was saying she needed to get away from this guy. “How very.”

Before Henry could reply, Aragon suddenly grabbed Bessie by the arm and swelled up like a venomous snake before Henry. “Let’s go, Elizabeth.” She said.

  “Okay, I’m coming,” Bessie said. “Later.”

  “Definitely.” Henry said back.

Aragon began guiding Bessie back to the table, where they finished eating with the other two Catherines. As she ate her sandwich, Bessie could feel Henry’s gaze on her, burning holes into her clothes, and that gut feeling turned into full on discomfort. It got so bad that she deliberately tried to avoid his line of sight while leaving the cafeteria, which caused her bump straight into someone for the second time that day. This time, the person was a lot less understanding than the first.

  “Hey!” He roared. “Watch where you’re going, you fat fuck!”   “S-sorry!” Bessie stuttered, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She suddenly felt a lot more exposed, as if she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

  “Did all that hair bleach kill your brain, too?” One of the guy’s friends snarked.

  “Or just fucking blind you?” Another said.

And then, the Catherines were there, materializing before them like a trio of vengeance-seeking angels in the lights. Howard eased Bessie behind her while Aragon riled herself up to her full size.

  “What did you just say to her?” Aragon asked, her words like a hidden bear trap underneath a blanket of leaves.

  “She bumped into me!” The first guy blurted in a woebegone voice.

  “Oh dear, what a disaster,” Parr mused.

  “How many times have I told you, Dudley, that she’s with us?” Aragon said. “Do you REALLY want to mess with us right now?”

  “No,” Dudley muttered.

Aragon was pleased. “Good. Now apologize to Elizabeth at once.”

  “Sorry I yelled at you,” Dudley said to Bessie.

  “Us, too.” Said his friends.

  “It’s okay,” Bessie said softly.

  “Wonderful.” Aragon smiled, but her voice was all murderous stalactites, sugary-sweet and poisonous. She pointed to each of the three in turn as she continued to speak. “Anyway. He was asking for feet pics in private messages, he is cheating on his girlfriend with his sister, and she is thoroughly sick of them both and wishes she had better friends to talk to.”

With that, she turned and escorted her clique out of the cafeteria and to the bathroom.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” Howard asked softly, massaging one of Bessie’s shoulders comfortingly. Her voice was gentle and so caring, almost like a mother’s. 

  “Yeah,” Bessie said. “I’m okay.”

  “Stupid bitch,” Aragon snarled underneath her breath, furiously pacing around the bathroom.

  “You aren’t fat, by the way,” Parr said to Bessie.

  “But--”

  “Don’t even try it Elizabeth,” Aragon hissed. “Or I will cut out your tongue, laminate it, and then pose it in my foyer, and don’t think I won’t do it.”

Bessie giggled softly at her threat. As strange and slightly violent it may have been, it meant Aragon cared about her. Because if she didn’t, Bessie surely would have been called fat again.

  “Okay,” She said. “But I’m fine, really.”

  “Good.” Aragon. “Fuckass doesn’t know who he’s talking about. You look great, Elizabeth. Even if that cardigan is questionable.”

Bessie looked at herself in one of the mirrors and saw that she truly did stick out like a sore thumb with the Catherines. If it wasn’t her bleached white hair, then it was her baby face, and if it wasn’t her baby face, then it was how she was slightly more chubby than the rest of them. Howard said it made her look soft and cute, and she didn’t ever know how to respond to that, so she would just laugh. And if it wasn’t any of that stuff, then it was her awful sense of fashion. Today, it was overalls, a black and white cardigan, and a light purple striped shirt, as purple was supposed to be her signature color.

  “I got it from the thrift store,” Bessie said proudly.

  “I am not surprised.” Aragon said. “You are not wearing that for the party tonight, by the way.”

  “What about--”

  “You aren’t wearing those galaxy suspenders, either!”

  “W--”

  “No!”

[love-killed-the-superstar]

yo im back at it again, this time for cassunzel week!! these ficlets will all take place in the same fic-verse as my cass week fics, which you can read here!

CASSUNZEL WEEK DAY 1 - HOMECOMING

On the day of her 22nd birthday, Rapunzel is radiant.

She must have known the surprise party was coming – how could she not, what with the whole of Corona buzzing with anticipation? – but still, she shrieks with delight all the same as the room erupts with cheer. She’s changed a little since the last time Cass saw her; her eyes sparkle a little brighter, her shoulders are less tense. Her happily ever after was only just beginning with Cassandra’s departure, but now – now she’s truly at peace.

Despite her initial decision to join Eugene and Lance at the front of the room in order to greet Rapunzel, Cass finds herself looking for a place to hide. Part of her doesn’t want Rapunzel to notice her right here and now, with the whole of the kingdom watching. She’s excited to greet her, of course, and give her a hug (maybe more, if her nerves cooperate), but… she just doesn’t know how to act with everybody else there. The new nature of their relationship isn’t exactly public knowledge, after all, and the last thing she wants is to cause some sort of uproar on Rapunzel’s birthday of all days.

So she hangs back, for once grateful at how tall and broad Lance is in comparison to her. Rapunzel begins to gush about the decorations, running over to hug her parents tightly, before making her way over to Eugene to give him the hug and kiss he’s earned for being such an efficient party planner.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit, sunshine,” he rambles, looking all too pleased with himself. “Everyone helped make this place a success. Oh, but I can take credit for keeping a certain someone – pardon the pun – under wraps…”

Cass considers leaving him hanging, but the second-hand embarrassment would be too much, even with Eugene getting the brunt of it. So she awkwardly side-steps out from behind Lance and gives a sheepish wave. Rapunzel’s face, set in confusion at Eugene’s awkward trail-off, morphs into one of pure amazement as her eyes meet Cassandra’s.

“CASS!!” She launches herself at Cassandra at full speed, leaving her winded from the impact.

“Oof. Hey, Raps. Ha, long time no see.”

Rapunzel’s arms wind round her tightly, scooping her further into the hug, and Cass returns it a little stiffly, glancing around as the rest of the party watch on in amusement. Lance is grinning like a fool, issuing a double thumbs-up, while Eugene simply offers a lopsided grin and a nod that she’s guessing he’s trying to equate to a sense of approval. The queen’s lips quirk up into a mile, but otherwise gives nothing away, while the king clears his throat and stares at the floor.

“Eugene said you couldn’t make it!” Rapunzel cries. “He said you were probably scaling a mountain or sailing between kingdoms or dodging a bounty hunter!”

“Oh, did he now? Dodging a bounty hunter, Fitzherbert, really? Unlike you, I don’t make enemies everywhere I go.”

“With your delightful personality, that genuinely surprises me,” he retorts, grinning all the same.

Ignoring him, she turns her attention back to Raps and pulls away to face her. “Well, regardless, I’m here now . Happy birthday, Rapunzel.”

Rapunzel reaches for her hands, entwining them, and for a moment Cass feels a horrific sense of deja vu – standing in the moonstone’s chamber, Rapunzel’s hair a swaying golden beacon, their fingers laced and faces close, such a tender moment and all the while, intense betrayal and anguish and hatred is tearing through her, clawing to get out–

But this isn’t then, this is now. And she is beautiful.

Rapunzel beams at Cass, but there’s a flicker of recognition in her eyes that roots them to the spot, just for a moment. She feels it too, Cass realises with a sinking feeling.

But in an act so defiant, as though to challenge the power of that awful memory, Rapunzel draws Cassandra’s gloved hands up to her lips and kisses them, just for a moment. Cass is pretty sure she can hear the king’s jaw drop in disbelief, but she’s far too shocked herself to glance over at him to confirm that. Rapunzel, oblivious to the surprise of those around her, quickly drops their hands and slings an arm around Cass’s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear as she turns to address the crowd.

“Thank you all so much for coming, and for celebrating my birthday on this fine day! Now,” she says brightly, “shall we let the celebration begin?”

From over the resounding cheer of the crowd, Cass hears Eugene burst out laughing behind them.

…

As far as Coronan celebrations go (of which there are far too many to commit to memory, in Cassandra’s opinion), this is one of the more enjoyable ones. The king and queen’s birthday festivities are usually more of a formal affair - there’s typically a banquet held within the castle and a more general celebration held in the courtyard for the public. Rapunzel, ever the fan of blurring the lines, has managed to merge the two somehow. The end result is an enormous buffet-style spread, two dance floors accompanied with separate musicians (one in the throne room they were decorating earlier with a formal string quartet, and one outside in the courtyard with a rowdier folk band that often performs at The Snuggly Duckling), and a whole lot of chaos.

Well, at least there are no gophers to chase after.

Cass, for the most part, has been hanging around the edges of the throne room to keep a low profile. People have been side-eyeing her all afternoon, though whether it's from the affectionate interaction with Rapunzel earlier or the whole former-enemy-of-the-kingdom thing remains to be seen. Either way, it’s better to avoid engaging with people when possible. Out in the courtyard, Rapunzel and Lance are caught up in some complicated jig of sorts, light on their feet and faces flushed with exertion as they dominate the dance floor. This gives Eugene the perfect opportunity to side up to her, a spare tumbler of punch in his hand. Pascal rests on his shoulder, watching Rapunzel’s dance in a similar trance.

“Thirsty?” he prompts, holding it out to her. She takes the drink from him and utters, “Parched, just from watching them.”

He laughs, and leans against the wall. “So, are you glad to be back?”

“Sure. I mean, I’ve missed it all, more than I thought I would. But…”

“But let me guess, you mostly came back for Rapunzel?” he finishes. “And now you’re pissed because you’ve barely spent a minute with her since the PDA fiasco that sent you scuttling right into the corner?”

The accuracy stings, it truly does. She goes to protest, but both Eugene and Pascal fix her with knowing looks. Cass hangs her head with a deep sigh.

“That obvious, huh?”

“Well yeah, everyone knows that Rapunzel is your favourite person in the world,” he says with a shrug. “And I know public affection isn’t your thing, at all. Here, hold this for me.”

He holds out his own cup for her and she takes it, eyeing him dubiously as he reaches for a small silver flask in his jacket pocket. He sprinkles a few drops into his drink.

“It all just took me by surprise, that’s all.” Cass sips at her drink gloomily and hands his cup back to him. “I didn’t hate it.”

“Still, here you are. Miserable in the face of festivities as always,” Eugene sighs, nudging her with his elbow in amusement. He takes a sip of his seasoned drink, smacking his lips in satisfaction. Still perched on his shoulder, Pascal shakes his head in exasperation. “Whoo, that’s better. You know what that punch bowl needs? Some rum in it. You want some?”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

She rolls her eyes at him, but tones down the aggression. After all, he’s right; why did she even bother to come back for Rapunzel’s birthday, if she’s just going to bring the mood down?

“I’ll… try harder not to be such a downer,” she offers.

“How noble of you. You know, you should just tell Rapunzel you want some time alone with her, she won’t exactly turn that offer down,” he points out.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to pull her away from the party, she’s having fun .”

“She has fun with you .” As the song comes to an end, leaving Rapunzel being dramatically dipped by Lance, she catches Eugene’s eye from across the floor and waves. He waves back, before beckoning her over.

“Don’t,” Cass warns. Predictably, he ignores her.

“Hey! What’s up, guys?” Rapunzel asks breathlessly as she bounds over. “Did you see our dance? Lance is a natural, who knew?”

“It was something, all right,” Cass begins, draining the last of her drink and setting it aside.

“Yeah, it was great! But listen, sunshine. Your girlfriend here,” Eugene says matter-of-factly, jerking his thumb towards her, “who has travelled many miles to be here today, is lonely. Now, you’ve danced with me and Lance and your parents and it’s been great, but our girl Cass here is more of the wallflower type, so why don’t you two find somewhere private and catch up, huh?”

“Eugene!” snaps Cass, mortified.

“Sorry, Cass!” Rapunzel apologises immediately, reaching for her hand. “I didn’t realise, I got so swept up in all the dancing and cheer-”

“Rapunzel, it’s fine,” Cass interrupts. “More than fine. It’s your birthday, you should spend it however you want!”

“Sure, but… if we’re being honest with each other, Cass, I would like some time with you,” Rapunzel admits, squeezing Cassandra’s hand. Cass squeezes back, before quickly dropping it. “I mean, since we can’t be all… you know, ourselves in public at this point.”

Guilt stakes Cass through the heart at that. She shouldn’t have let go so fast.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Raps, it’s just still a bit-”

“Hey, no, only happy stuff today, please!” Eugene intervenes. He claps a hand on both their backs and begins steering them towards the back exit of the throne room. “Now, I think you two should duck out now, find a quiet place away from the chaos down here. Go talk. Give presents. Make out if you want, I don’t care. The frog and I can hold down the fort. Oh, but we’re setting off the lanterns in an hour, so don’t stay too long, okay? All right, have fun!”

And with that, the door swings shut behind them, leaving the two of them alone.

…

Eugene did them a favour, really. Cass will have to thank him later.

Walking through the empty castle walls in silence, they eventually find themselves climbing the small tower overlooking the training grounds; a spot they’ve spent countless afternoons in before, idly watching the soldiers train. Cass would silently watch on while pouring tea or adjusting a tray of watercolour paints, envying each and every one of them, all while pretending not to feel Rapunzel’s wistful eyes burning holes into her from behind. This time, after opening the trap door and helping her up, she holds Rapunzel’s gaze with equal yearning. God, it’s been far too long since she’s had Rapunzel all to herself.

The first thing they do, after the trap door slams shut, is kiss. It’s quick, and Cass still finds herself glancing around furtively in case of any curious onlookers, but they’re blissfully alone besides from one soldier posted at the edge of the grounds.

“He’s too far away to see anything,” Rapunzel remarks, already able to read Cassandra’s thoughts perfectly. “Now, can I kiss you again?”

The impatience in her voice sends a giggle rippling through Cass, and she nods, reaching for Rapunzel's waist and pulling her in for a second kiss; one that she can almost feel her smiling through. Fuck, she's missed this.

“So,” she says, leaning back against the wall as Rapunzel stands giggling before her, “good birthday, Raps?”

“Best birthday!” she declares sunnily.

“Oh, really? Best birthday? Better than escaping the tower and reuniting with your long-lost family?”

Rapunzel stops, and hums in thought. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Second best birthday.”

“That’s more like it.” Cass turns to stare out at the twilight sky ahead. “It’s a beautiful day for a birthday, Rapunzel, I have to say.”

“Isn’t it just?” Rapunzel sighs, scooting up beside her. “Every year I used to look out the window of the tower and stare at a sky like this. Even though I knew the lanterns set off at nightfall, I would just sit and watch the sky grow pinker and darker in anticipation for it. Even now, I have this… this jittery feeling in my chest.”

“Brings back some mixed emotions, huh?”

Rapunzel nods, her smile falling slightly. “It feels like a whole lifetime ago. I suppose it is now. Hey, what were my birthdays like for you, before I was here?”

Cass shrugs. “Castle life largely went on as normal, I guess. Your parents were sad, of course, so there was this air of mourning in the palace, even though the townspeople treated it more as a celebration of your life and the hope of your return. We would leave little messages inside each lantern, it was kind of a custom everyone followed.”

“Did you write me lanterns?” Rapunzel asks, turning to her with raised eyebrows.

“Everybody did, it’s not a big deal,” Cass starts, feeling the beginnings of a blush creeping in as she remembers the kind of things she used to write. “You remember all the lanterns we found on Terapi Island.”

“Yeah, but I never thought to look for yours! Do you remember the kind of things you wrote?” she probes, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on, Cass, tell me! It’s my birthday, you have to!”

Rapunzel bears those big eyes, ones Cass used to be able to say no to, and she curses that Rapunzel’s love has made her so soft inside.

“Fine. Ugh. Um, let’s see, I used to… okay, now don’t laugh.”

“I won’t!” Rapunzel promises, hand on heart, although her eyes are already beginning to crinkle in anticipation.

“You’d better not! Um. Okay, so when I was younger I had this… this dumb idea that maybe when I was older and stronger I could like – rescue you. Me and Max or Fidella would go on a lone journey, searching the lands far and wide for the lost princess, and we’d bring you home and I would, you know… be promoted to the guard.”

She cringes at the very fantasy her young mind used to entertain as Rapunzel squeals beside her.

“Oh, Cass! That’s just-”

“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” Cass reminds her with a grumble, burying her head in her hands.

“I’m not laughing , it’s just so sweet! You really wanted to bring me home?”

“Yeah. For a time. As I grew older and I was stuck doing maid duties, I kind of gave up on that particular dream, but then one day… there you were. And our lives got all mixed up after the fact.”

Rapunzel reaches over to rest her hand atop Cassandra’s, squeezing lightly.

“I’m glad they did. I don’t know what my life would be like without you, Cass, but I don’t regret it.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad,” Cass says wryly. “You’d still have Eugene.”

“I couldn’t picture my life without either of you,” Rapunzel insists. “Don’t act like you aren’t both equally important to me.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Cass reaches with her free hand to fish around in her pocket. “Hey, Rapunzel. Close your eyes.”

“Oh, okay.” She twists her face towards Cass and shuts her eyes, before pursing her lips expectantly. Cass rolls her eyes fondly.

“Okay, hotshot, not what I was going for. Hold out your hand.”

“Can I still get a kiss though?”

“Later. Hand, now.”

Cass takes out the bracelets she fashioned this morning from the blue stones of the lagoon and carefully fastens one around Rapunzel’s outstretched wrist. They’re nothing too special to look at, honestly; a little clumsier than the ones that Rapunzel originally made, for sure. The gesture will surely make up for it, though.

Rapunzel’s eyes open, and she gasps.

“You remade our lagoon bracelets?!” Rapunzel’s eyes are alight with amazement. “But you hate making jewellery!”

Cass shrugs. She isn’t about to go into detail about what a pain in the ass it was to thread the bracelets, and the number of times she stabbed her fingers in the process. She’d thanked the stars for her gloves being so sturdy. “Ehh. I hate making jewellery most of the time. I can make an exception when it comes to you.”

“Cass, they’re beautiful! I don’t know what to say!” Rapunzel hugs her tightly, pressing several kisses to her cheek when she pulls back again. “But I thought you said they should be returned to sacred ground?”

“Well, yeah, I did, but I’ve, um… I’ve actually been studying a little Saporian on the road,” Cass admits sheepishly. “A bit of language, a bit of the history. Just to pass the time on rainy days when it’s hard to travel, you know? Anyway, I found a history book that spoke of Herz Der Sonne and General Champanier. Did you know, they each wore matching pendants until the day they died? Matching blue pendants, the historians say.”

“The lagoon stones,” breathes Rapunzel. Cass nods.

“They were most likely buried in them, so I reckon we may never know for sure, but…” Cass bows her head to avoid Rapunzel’s eyes as she adds, “Since the lagoon was where they fell in love, it’s understandable that the blue stones were significant to them.”

“Just like they’re significant to us.” Rapunzel’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and full of awe. Cass swallows and nods.

“I… I thought, if the people who discovered this lagoon allowed themselves to take mementos without the world ending…”

Rapunzel’s hands find hers in the fast-fading light, winding tightly together.

“I will treasure this, Cassandra, for the rest of my days. Hey, maybe we can get buried wearing these too?” Her voice is light, teasing, but beneath that airy joke is something a little more… personal. Permanent. It makes Cass’s heart soar.

Rapunzel leans in and kisses her softly. “I love them. I love you .”

Cass melts a little, at that. “Oh. Oh, I… Yeah. Me too.”

“Here, give me the bracelet.” Rapunzel takes the other bracelet from Cassandra’s outstretched hand and ties it around her wrist. “Now, maybe it’s not the most practical thing to wear it over the glove, but it’ll be fine for tonight. Here, now we match!”

They hold their arms up against the glare of the rapidly setting sun, watching the light gleam through the stones. They glitter like they do beneath the waves of the lagoon, if only temporarily.

“You know… You feel different now, Cass.”

Cass cocks her head to the side, trying to work out what exactly Rapunzel means by that statement as she watches dreamily as the sun disappears below the highest turrets of the castle, distorting the colour of the grounds below. Has she picked up some kind of accent on the road that makes her sound off to native Coronans? Have the facial scars distorted her appearance too much? Is she acting haughty, aloof, more so than before thanks to her time on the road?

“I’m different?” Cass prompts.

“Not in a bad way,” Raps laughs, eyes crinkling with her smile. Her gaze roams over Cass, fully taking her in, before she adds on decidedly, “It’s just the way you are now. I don’t think I could describe it fully, but the life in you, it’s so different to how you were when… when you were at your lowest. It makes me proud of the person you’ve become.”

Cass is stunned. It’s not that she didn’t expect Rapunzel to comment on this; no, she knew she would be praised in some form, because Rapunzel simply can’t help trying to uplift people whenever she can. But she hadn’t prepared for Rapunzel to cut to the heart of the matter so quickly. It’s foolish, she knows, to think that Raps wouldn’t be able to see the effort Cass has taken to become this new version of herself. It’s an image she can’t always keep up, but it’s something she has worked hard towards before feeling ready to show her face around here again.

Rapunzel being proud of her is, shockingly, the remedy that she’s craved since the moment she stepped through the gates.

“You think I’m different now?” Cass bleats uselessly, unable to stop that goofy smile from creeping in. Rapunzel grins and leans over, pecking her forehead quickly before retreating.

“I think you’re getting closer to your authentic self. And it makes me really love you.”

Cass laughs nervously, swivelling away to watch over the field down below so that hopefully Rapunzel can’t see just how flushed she’s become.

As they lapse into a comfortable silence, the rumble of footsteps begin to flood the corridors leading out onto the training pitch. Cass strains her eyes and realises, as light fills each corner of the grounds, that all of the partygoers are congregating onto the pitch below, each holding a lit paper lantern.

“So this is where they’re setting them off,” Rapunzel remarks. “We’ve been caught out. Just our luck.”

“Well, Fitzherbert could have been more specific,” grumbles Cass, without any real venom in her tone. After all, she still owes him one for pushing the two of them into some alone time in the first place. “I guess we should head down and join them.”

“I suppose,” Rapunzel says, almost sounding disappointed at having to cut their time short. “Hey, did you make a lantern this time?”

“Of course. It’s nothing fancy, though. You know that artsy stuff isn’t really my strong suit.”

“I don’t know, Cass. You did make us these bracelets, after all…”

Rapunzel, glancing between the slowly gathering crowd and Cassandra’s face, makes a split-second decision and kisses her cheek once more, before crouching down to pull the door hatch open. Damn, what Cass wouldn’t give for this to be a boat they could undock from the walls of Corona and sail off into the night, away from all these prying eyes. Anything to squeeze a few extra minutes out of this situation.

Fiddling with her hands, she pipes up, “...I could say the same about you, you know.”

Rapunzel pulls the hatch open and cranes her neck to look back at her, brow furrowed in confusion.

“What’s that?”

“About being different now? You’re growing into yourself too,” Cass continues, moving to sit down on the floor, away from the curious view of the gathering crowd below. “I remember how terrified you were at the prospect of running a kingdom, but just look at all this! Seems to me that you’ve really come into your own since I’ve been gone.”

Rapunzel sits back beside her, face glowing at Cassandra’s compliment.

“Well, I love this place! And now that the magic, sundrop, saving the world destiny is behind us, I have more time to focus on this destiny instead. Turns out, it suits me more than I ever believed it would.”

“I haven’t seen Corona this happy and at peace in a long time. Whatever Rapunzel Positivity you’ve been spreading to the people, it’s working.”

“Hopefully it’ll stay this way for a little while longer.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and peeks over at her, meadow-green eyes bearing into hers. “I’m so glad you came back, Cass.”

“I’m glad too. You really believed I wouldn’t fight tooth and nail to come back for your birthday?”

“I didn’t know how far away you might be!” Rapunzel points out. “If you were all the way across the continent I wouldn’t expect you to make it back in time, and you haven’t written to me in weeks!”

“Because I was travelling!”

“Well, I’d still like to know next time!” Rapunzel takes a playful swing at her arm and Cass dodges, unable to hold back her laughter any longer. It doesn’t take long for Rapunzel to follow suit, their heads resting together as they giggle in the semi-darkness. When at last they’ve run out of steam, Rapunzel peeks over the rim of the tower.

“I see Eugene. Looks like he’s holding an extra lantern.”

“Probably mine,” Cass offers. “Since everybody else is accounted for but us.”

“Guess that’s our cue to head down there, then.” Rapunzel begins to climb down the ladder, before stopping, just as her head pokes out the top of the door. “So, did you write a poem in yours, or…”

“I’m not telling you!” Cass insists, poking her nose with a grin. “If you’re lucky I’ll let you squint at it through the paper before we set them off.”

“Well, is it romantic?” Rapunzel probes. Cass smiles inwardly as she recalls the words she wrote for Rapunzel, short and sweet, knowing that they’ll wind up on Terapi Island with no one to read them but the lorbs.

I love you, Raps. And for as long as the sun shines, I will never stop.

“...Maybe.” Lowering her voice to a whisper, Cass adds conspiratorially, “But you can’t tell anybody.”

Rapunzel mimes sealing her lips. “It goes to the grave,” she says seriously. “Now. One more kiss before we go?”

Rolling her eyes, Cass leans down to bridge the gap.

[brightening-the-stars]

Playlists and Pentagrams

This one is a bit mediocre but my computer screen is swimming in and out of focus as I type (it’s been a looooong week) so I might clean this up a bit later but for now, you all have to suffer through! Thank you to @flashfictionfridayofficial​ for the amazing prompt! It almost exactly fit something I was talking about with @snapbacpirat​ about the Ms. O’Leary verse. Hope someone enjoys this!

“Once again, Eliza, you cannot summon a demon with Indie music!”

Ms. O’Leary crossed her arms, a long-suffering look on her face. Crumpled papers laid scattered on the floor of her kitchen, casualties of hours of argument and innovation. Frankfurter Fitzherbert, after yet another foiled attempt to destroy Mr. Mendez’s tomato patch (it wasn’t Fitzherbert’s fault he had the foresight to booby trap it with the sprinkler system!) was napping in the corner. From where she sat sprawled on top of Ms. O’Leary’s table, Eliza flipped through a spellbook, frowning. She adjusted her glasses.

“Pentagram, yadda yadda… blood sacrifice, okay… immortal soul… Ha! There’s nothing in here that says it absolutely has to be death metal, see? We scoured the whole book.”

“Witches have been using death metal for hundreds of years for a reason, and that reason is because it works. You see, ever since--”

“Now hold on a sec, I don’t think death metal’s been around for hundreds of years?”

“Ah, yes, of course. Before the ‘80s, we used Mozart. It had rather the same effect.”

Eliza raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. Probably best not to ask. Although if it worked for Mozart string quartets, she could probably summon the demon in Orchestra at school… but no. This was beside the point. 

“My dad would never let me blast death metal for hours on end! He’d say, ‘Eliza, that is the world’s worst elevator music’ or ‘Eliza, the news says there’s an earthquake at a 3.5 on the Richter scale and it’s centered around your bedroom’ and I honestly would agree with him? Like death metal sucks. Hozier is so much better.”

Ms. O’Leary sighed. “Very well. I propose a wager.” Eliza perked up, raising her eyebrows. 

“If you are able to summon a demon by playing Hozier, I will allow your father to paint our shared fence that horrid blue color. If you are unable to do so, you will clean Frankfurter Fitzherbert’s litter box for a week.”

Steep odds, Eliza thought. She grinned. 

“I’m in.”

That evening saw Eliza sitting cross-legged in front of a meticulously-drawn pentagram, “From Eden” playing softly in the background and her father whistling off-key from downstairs. She glanced briefly up at the setup, then sighed and returned to her knitting. She was hoping to have a whole beanie before the winter. After about two more rows of stitches, her candles began to flicker and the room grew uncomfortably cold. She whipped her head up. There was something coalescing in the middle of the pentagram, growing, growing as it leached the shadows from the room, growing as it snuffed out the candles and absorbed the smoke, growling as it sang to the darkness in Eliza’s head and her darkness sang back--

It was a puppy.

Well, granted, the puppy had horns, which Eliza thought was unusual (although she was by no means a dog expert; until now, she had dealt exclusively with cats). She approached cautiously. 

“Um. Hello?”

The dog turned towards her, its glowing golden eyes piercing through her.

 “Yeah, hi. Oh, before you ask, I chose this form to avoid alarming you. I usually have way more limbs. And more eyes. And less ribs. But anyway! I’m actually just here because I. Am. So. Tired. Of always getting a crappy screamtrack of a musical intro whenever I enter the human world. Like, the higher ups say it’s to be expected and apparently they’ve been inviting us up here to that particular genre for decades at least, but seriously! Come on! I know you humans have more ingenuity than that!”

Eliza nodded, trying to fight back a smile. It worked! Her dad would probably do that horrible victory dance, but having a nice blue fence might be nice. Right now, it was a garish green, which was only made tolerable by some of Ms. O’Leary’s vines cascading over the sides. As Eliza envisioned her victory, she almost missed his next sentence.

“You know, I always wanted to stay up here. See what it’s like. But all the death metal can sure make a guy feel unwelcome, for all they love it back home. Anyway, you piqued my interest so what can I do for ya? Standard disclaimers apply, and I’m sure you’ve read the terms and conditions…” 

Eliza slowly started to smile. 

“So. You know what I’ve really wanted for ages? A dog. And I know that obviously you wouldn’t be a pet, you would just be disguised, but how would you like to bunk with us for a little while and see what things are like up here? Also I need serious help with my magic and my dad needs his garden protected from Fitzherbert. If you help us, we’ll give you some great food and the warmest hugs ever (courtesy of my dad) and a brand new beanie, courtesy of me.”

She stared hopefully at the puppy. 

“You know what? No-one has ever given me something they made before! Like, I’m only a teenager but seriously! You would think in four years of taking Communications duty--”

“So that’s a yes?”

The puppy started to wag its tail. 

“As long as there’s more of that glorious devil’s music, I’m in for sure. By the way, I would like to be called ‘Spot’”.

Spot and Eliza wandered off down the hall, their voices and laughter drifting as they began what was to be a long and productive friendship.