#with the entire proposal written in detail and everything

[rafeandonlyrafe]

escape from isla nublar

words: 2.6k

warnings: jurassic world alternate universe, dinosaurs, violence, brief mentions of gore (but not detailed), illusions of sex but not actually written out, established relationship, soft!rafe, death tw, proposal, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks

a/n: im having a lot of fun with writing aus, so here! take another one!

“thank you so much for bringing me here, rafe.” you coo out, getting onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

rafes arm slides around your waist, keeping you tugged in close as the boat approaches the dock of the island. you squeal along with all the children gathered around impatient and ready to jump off the boat and explore.

“welcome to isla nublar!” the voice of a friendly sounding woman says over the speakers. “please disembark slowly and carefully and enjoy your stay in jurassic park!”

“baby, can i just say-” rafe begins as the crowd shuffles forward, most with bags in their hands or suitcases being wheeled behind them, but rafe has already arranged to have them brought to your room so you can get right to exploring. 

“mhm.” you hum, encouraging him to continue.

“that you've been so chill this entire trip so far. proud of you.” it might sound weird to anyone else, but you've always gotten nervous when leaving your home for too long, worried something bad would happen. rafe saw it on your first trip he took you on where you tried and very much failed to hide your anxiety.

“im so excited there's like no room for nerves.” you giggle as you walk down the gangway. “and the fact that you let me plan everything. you know how much i love a schedule.”

“we are so different.” rafe shakes his head, hand squeezing yours as you step into the concrete, turning away from the crowds heading to the resort and towards the main street and the iconic innovation center.

“opposites attract.” you state, and it couldn't be more true, but rafe loves you more than he could ever envision caring about someone.

as you round the lagoon, trying to see if you're able to catch a glimpse of the giant mosasaurs in its depths, you feel your excitement levels only elevate more.

“oh my gosh, there's the petting zoo entrance.” you turn and pout to rafe.

“isn't that mostly for kids?” he raises a singular eyebrow.

“i mean yeah, but you also get to pet baby dinosaurs. totally worth it.” you tug him towards the entrance.

--

“okay.” you sigh, placing your hands on your hips. “i guess we should slow down so we have things to do for the rest of the trip.” 

“im already exhausted.” rafe chuckles. “how about dinner then to the hotel?”

as tired as rafe is, he's certainly not going to complain about being run around isla nublar when he gets to see the gleaming smile on your face every time he looks at you.

“sounds good… we could go to winstons steak house,” you point in one direction, then the other “jurassic cafe, or the brachiosaurus restaurant.”

“how about whatever is closest.” rafe rubs his hand over his face.

“okay steak house it is.” it's your turn to take rafes hand. 

he barely manages to stay awake through dinner, and by the time you're back at the hotel, he's passed out on the bed before he can change into his pajamas.

--

“what would you like to do today?” you ask rafe. “anything but that hang gliding, you know how i feel about heights.”

“the gyrospheres look fun.” rafe shrugs and looks at the map pulled up on your phone. “or kayaking.”

“why not both.” you toss your phone to the side and cup rafes cheek, bringing your lips together in a kiss.

“you're the best boyfriend ever.”

rafe places a hand on your shoulder and pushes you down onto the mattress, laying you back.

“we can wait a little bit though, right?” the smirk on his face gives him away.

“i think that would be fine.” you giggle, pulling rafes shirt off over his head.

--

“that was actually so fun.” you hum out.

“it was when you let me drive and we could finally go fast.” rafe says. you were halfway through the gyrosphere tour when you handed the controls over to rafe, allowing him to speed through the ankylosaurus herds.

“but we will not be doing that on the kayak.” you hold your finger up.

“yes ma’am.” rafe says, slipping the attendant a $20 bill to move you to the front of the line, not wanting you to have to wait.

“life vest.” rafe says, slipping it over your head while he just grabs his and throws it into the kayak, not planning on putting it on unless something happens.

rafe helps you step down into the kayak, grabbing the paddle knowing he's going to sit in the back and do all the work.

--

“this is so beautiful.” you say, leaning back into your seat as you look at the stegosaurus and it's long neck reaching up to grab the leaves, his feet submerged in the water as you paddle past.

“this might be even better than the velociraptors.” rafe says.

“wait-” you sit up. “whats that sound? is that a radio?”

it takes a second for rafes ears to pick it up, but he can hear the frantic static of voices over a walkie talkie.

rafe continues to paddle, realizing suddenly that you've separated from all the other kayaks and can't see anyone. he brings the kayak closer to the side when he hears the radio as you reach out to pick it up from the muddy bank.

you turn the volume knob up as you try to make out what the voice is saying through the water logged speaker.

“we sent the containment unit out with nonlethal force and they're all dead! immediate evacuation, get everyone inside and back to the hotel!”

“rafe…” you turn towards him, eyes widening in fear.

“im sure it's just some kid pulling a prank.” rafe takes the radio, finding the speech button and pressing it. “what is going on?”

“who is that? this is an authorized channel.” one voice says before another cuts it out.

“whoever you are, seek shelter immediately. the indominus rex is on the loose, currently heading towards-” the radio sparks and then dies out.

“shit.” rafe hits it against his thigh, but it's clearly no use.

“rafe.” your voice is already shaking. “the indominus rex. i don't know what it is, but it doesn't sound good.”

“okay.” rafe stands up and steps out of the kayak, pulling it onto the bank before helping you out. “baby-” he places his hands on your shoulders. “i need you to stay calm. you know this island like the back of your hand. where are we?”

“we-” you take a deep, shaking breath. “we are halfway through the kayak adventure. we should head just west and find the road to the aviary.”

“okay.” rafe presses a kiss to your forehead. “let's go quickly and quietly. im sure they've already contained whatever dinosaur escaped.”

“yeah.” you nod, gulping, not so sure.

rafes steady hand stays in yours, helping you over bushes and downed trees.

“shouldn't be much farther.” you bite your lip, hoping you didn't get the direction wrong.

“hang on.” rafe whispers, placing a finger over his lips. 

before you can fully comprehend what's happening, he's tugging you down under a giant tropical plant, the leaves hiding you as you hear whatever rafe did, the pounding footsteps of dinosaurs.

“that's the stegosaurus we saw earlier.” you remember the distinct marking along its side.

“get over here.” rafe pulls you in tighter, not allowing you to see as he presses you against the stem of the large plant, covering your body with his own.

“it's okay, it's a herbivore.” you say, when you hear the second set of dinosaur footsteps following it. you tense up, and you can feel a panic attack setting in as you pick your head up to see some sort of giant rex running after it.

you both stay still and silent until it's clearly far enough away.

“rafe.” you tremble as you turn into your back, his body still hovering over yours, protecting you, willing to put himself in the line of danger if he needs to.

“it's okay.” his voice is betraying how scared he is as well, but he's going to try his best to not let you see it. “let's just get to the aviary.”

“i-i can't.” you shake your head. “im fucking terrified.” 

“me too, baby.” he says. “but we gotta get under cover somewhere before that thing catches up to the stegosaurus and comes back for us.”

you swallow deeply, eyes closing for a brief minute, gaining all your courage you possibly can.

“okay.” you're up and moving quickly, running towards the aviary. your steps are no longer balanced and cautious, moving quickly through the jungle until you make it through the trees to the grassy plane.

“the aviary!” you point at the large glass dome, just in time to see a helicopter careening into it, smashing a hole that instantly has pterodactyls flying out.

“shit!” rafe shouts, tugging you back into the treeline.

“we're gonna die.” you sob out, not able to hold back your tears as you crumple to the ground.

“no.” rafe says firmly. “i will not lose you.”

he knows he needs to move, especially as the pterodactyls come closer, and he doesn't have time to console you enough to get you ready to move.

rafe reaches down and pulls you into his arms, hugging your shaking form against his chest as he follows the same path of disturbed leaves and muddy footprints back to the river.

“i need you to paddle.” rafe says, glad your kayak is still in the same space. “i know you're scared, but you need to help me here. we need to go fast.”

you sniffle and look up at rafe, your big eyes filled with tears causing his heart to pang out in pain. “okay.”

rafe bends down, pressing your lips together in a soft and caressing kiss before climbing onto the back of the kayak.

you both immediately begin to paddle hastily, not knowing where the next meat eating dinosaur could be.

“the river goes underground then should let us off near main street.” you tell rafe, eyes briefly closing to envision the map in your head before putting your entire focus back onto paddling.

“baby, still.” rafe says softly, both of you pausing as you look upwards, seeing pterodactyls wings flapping over, thankfully not seeming to notice you under the treetops, yet you still wait until they pass over before beginning to paddle again.

“there's the cave.” you say, pointing as the river bends and you head underground, lights strung along the cave ceiling as you paddle underground, able to take a deep breath now that you're under cover.

“are there any dinosaurs in this cave?” rafe questions, helping you move back so you're leaned against him. 

“shouldn't be.” you say, eyes closing as your adrenaline drops now that you're mostly safe.

“go ahead and rest.” rafe hums as he paddles, looking down at you in relief.

--

“y/n.” rafe shakes your shoulder and you sit up with a gasp, looking around, waiting to see the indominus rex charging at you.

“it's okay.” rafe says. “we're just leaving the cave.”

“so that wasn't all just a nightmare?” you sit up, knowing you must not have been asleep that long, but already feeling majorly refreshed.

“im afraid not.” rafe sighs as you grab your paddle to help steer.

“so this let's out…”

“near the resort. we should be safe there.” you squint into the dying sunlight as the kayak leaves the caves and enters into the large man-made lake.

you both quickly steer to the side, glad to be out of the kayak and on your own two feet.

“to the resort.” you say, able to tell that there are still people running from main street in that direction.

rafe is about to toss the paddle back into the boat when a screech comes from overhead and you both look up to see a pterodactyl perched over cave entrance.

“run!” rafe yells, not turning his back from the dinosaur to see that you haven't moved an inch, not leaving him.

the pterodactyl lunges forward just as rafe swings his paddle at it, hitting it in the beak, but it only enrages the dinosaur more.

you move quickly to grab your paddle, joining rafe in hitting at it, keeping the snapping beak away from pecking at your skin.

“baby, go.” rafe grunts out.

“no! im not leaving you.” you keep slapping at its beak and head until it gets annoyed and roars before taking off to the sky.

“fuck.” rafe groans. “i hate dinosaurs. sorry baby.”

“that's okay.” you say with a slight laugh. “i don't think i like them that much anymore either.”

you take off towards the resort, keeping your oars held tightly in your hands, just in case any pterodactyls try something.

“onto the ship or into the resort?” you question, seeing people trying to get into both.

rafe opens his mouth to respond when a roar rips through the air.

he looks around quickly, pulling you into taller grass, not having any other close cover.

“some of the gates must be down.” you whisper.

“why?” rafe questions, not doubting you as his eyes search through the field before you point at the crowd of people, even more frantic as you watch from a distance.

“because there's a metriacanthosaurus.”

the name makes rafe blink harshly before he sees it, the dinosaur flinging people around as it takes advantage of the hoards of people trying to get to cover.

“oh my god.” you cover your mouth, watching as the carnivore rips someone in half.

“don't watch.” rafe pulls you further into the grass, tucking you against his chest.

you close your eyes and focus on his arm wrapped around your shoulder instead of the screams.

“i got you.” rafe whispers, free hand tapping his shorts to make sure the box is still there in his pocket.

“i know.” you press your lips into his neck. “i know.”

gunshots ring out and rafe looks out of the grass to see that the dinosaur has finally brought down and everyone is safely inside.

“okay, let's run.” rafe helps you stand, deciding to head towards the boat instead of the hotel, knowing it's just one step closer to getting you safe.

you take off in a run, entering up the gangway you went down just yesterday morning.

“inside the cabin.” one of the staff says quickly, ushering you through the glass doors into the packed hallway of people, but rafe keeps moving, tucking you into him until you're towards the front of the boat, able to move up a level and find a place to sit down.

“we're okay.” you say as you relax into the sofa. “we’re alive.”

“i love you.” rafe says, head dropping to your shoulder. “im never talking you on another vacation like this again, but i love you.”

“and i thought you were protective before.” you chuckle, breathing out heavily.

“really ruined my whole plan though.” rafe knows that you both just experienced a trauma that will no doubt need to be unpacked later, but you're just happy to be safe inside the cruise ship.

“what plan?” you lift your head up.

“not the best time but-” rafe sits up and pulls a box out of his pocket. “i planned to ask you in front of the waterfall, all romantic and sweet. but i don't want to waste a single moment longer.”

rafe flicks the top of the box up to reveal a glimmering ring. “will you marry me?”

you let out a squeal and jump into rafes arms, “yes!”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[aedesluminis]

Prieur's first work on the metric system

The calling of the Estates Generals and the events that followed shortly after proved to be the perfect occasion for intellectuals, savants and merchants not only to demand, but also to propose new reforms, aimed to obtain a common metric system for the entire realm of France. A system, whose unity and integrity would have prevented any more frauds and mistakes, caused by the incredible diversity of measurement units in use under the Ancien Régime.

Driven by the optimism and the changes brought by the Revolution, and encouraged by his mentor Guyton, the young Claude-Antoine Prieur – at the time still Duvernois – wished to give his contribution to the cause as well. As some notes currently kept at the archives of the Paris Polytechnic School show, Prieur started working on the topic already 1789. In the early days of February 1790, he sent to the National Assembly the result of his efforts: a memoir titled “Mémoire sur la nécessité et les moyens de render uniformes, dans le royaume, toutes les mesures d’étendue et de pesanteur”. (1)

It is a comprehensive work, which distinguishes itself for the detailed implementation of the decimal scale in all measures, except those of time, and the meticulous description of both the theory behind the new proposed units and the methods to craft their respective standards. The memoir also includes a solid set of historical and scientific reference material, on which the theory in based on, and plans to help common people get used to the new system; things that other notable works on the same topic lack. (2)

Below the cut, one can find an English translation I did of the memoir conclusion, which sums up in the shape of decree articles the whole proposal. Notes related to the post and the unit names are added at the end.

I believe to have proved in this memoir the inconveniences of the diversity of measures and the infinite benefits that a law, aimed to make them uniform throughout all the realm, would bring to science, commerce and arts. I committed myself to find the basis, on which these measures should be founded, in order to make their prototypes immutable, and the principles, from which it would be convenient that they are derived. I showed how these measures could easily be adapted to our needs. I indicated the precautions, by which this innovation would cause neither great embarrassments, nor great expenses. According to these principles and to the measures derived from them, I proposed a type of calculation, particularly appropriate to simplify all operations in the fields of business, trade and civil life; that until now has only been used by some savants, but whose knowledge and even habit are easy to acquire. Lastly, the introduction of this calculation and its advantages led me to wish that the name and value of the smallest coin of our currency should be changed to have more accordance between numeration and effective payments.

These are the subjects that I thought deserved to be treated with all the necessary details to prove them. I took advantage of everything that has been written before me on this matter and one might say that I added little of my own. However, it seemed to me that the most desirable way to clarify the opinions [on the matter] was to present in a single work, and by relying on what other famous authors have already proposed, the true principles, their consequences, their applications to all sort of measures of different materials, the means relative to the execution of the project, the precautions to take in order to maintain its integrity, the education to spread so that the people can promptly enjoy the benefits of an enlightened legislation and the remedies to be applied to reduce the friction that always comes with such changes. This is what I have been aiming to do: I shall leave it to you to judge how far I have succeeded. If there were still some difficulties to clarify, some parts to revision in order to bring this work to perfection, I would be ready to devote to it all the necessary time, with no other ambition than to be useful to my country and, in some ways, to give my contribution to the accomplishment of such a great project.

It only remains for me to give, through articles for a decree, the dispositions that I find most suitable to realise the reform in all of its parts. This project will serve, more than anything else, as a way to judge the merit of [my] work and it is the only reason that led me to propose it.

The reasons for the law could be summarised as follows: The uniformity of measures is no less beneficial to commerce, which must be based on honesty, than to society in general, especially to the progress of science. This uniformity is but a consequence of the unity of laws. Lastly, this reform becomes essential to prevent the inconveniences of the diversity of measures, which the division of the realm in departments would make more evident. Considering all of the above, it could be decreed:

ARTICLE ONE Starting from the 1st of January 1791, all measures of weight and length currently existing in the realm shall be abolished and so shall they remain; so that in every juridical, tariff, commercial and public act, no other units shall be used at the time of said day 1 January 1791 than those indicated below. However, people are still free to use the units they consider appropriate, unless in case of controversy, where they shall be converted into the new ones before any judgement is passed.

II All measures, both of weight and length mentioned below shall be called national measures, national weights and so shall their subdivisions, to avoid confusion with the previous ones.

III The third part of the length of the seconds pendulum of the Parish observatory shall constitute the pied national and be the prototype for all the other measures.

IV The pendulum length shall be reported with exactitude on a bar of pure platinum at a given temperature and in the presence of the commissioners, who shall be elected by the royal academy of science and who, in case of necessity, shall promptly work towards a more rigorous determination; the aforementioned platinum bar shall be preciously preserved at the Hôtel-de-Ville in Paris as a monument of the operation, to be used in case of need. It shall be redacted by municipal officials a verbal process, both on the deposit of said measure and on the procedures done by the academy commissioners to obtain the silver pied national, which shall serve as prototype.

V The national pied national, determined above, shall be divided into 10 pouches, a pouche into 10 lignes, a ligne into 10 points or primes. The perche nationale shall be 10 national pieds. The milliare national shall be 1000 national perches.  The aune nationale shall be 3 and ½ national pieds. The arpent national shall be 100 square national perches. The moule national, for firewood, shall be 100 cubic pieds nationaux.

VI The measure of capacity or national measure (which can also be called protade) for grains, powdered and fluid materials and all the other ones which can be measured in recipients shall be the cubic pied national. The national measure will be divided into 10 décades. The décade into 10 écatades. The écatade into 10 chiliades. The muid national will be 10 national measures or 10 cubic pieds nationaux. The standards of all aforementioned measures, both those, which are multiples of the cubic pied, and their relative sub-multiples, shall have the shape of a cylinder or that of a truncated cone, for more precision and safety during the calibration, wherever the cubic shape might be inconvenient; all, according to instructions that shall be included in the law.

VII The livre nationale shall be determined by the weight of either distilled or rain water, the latter purged from air, at a fixed temperature, subjected to a volume of 10 cubic pouces nationaux. The livre nationale shall be divided into 10 onces. The once national into 10 gros. The gros national into 10 deniers. The denier national into 10 grains. The grain national into tenths, hundredths, etc. The quintal national shall be 100 livres nationales, or equal to the weight of a cubic pied of water.

VIII A silver livre nationale shall be crafted, whose exactitude shall be acknowledged by the same commissaries of the academy, to be deposited with their verbal process in the archives of the Hôtel-de-Ville of Paris and to be used there as prototype. Another silver livre nationale shall be deposited and preserved in the Paris mint, with the weight standards constituting its main subdivisions, which are: an once, a gros, a denier and a grain, all of them made of silver, verified and approved by the academy commissaries.

IX Standards of both the pied national and livre nationale shall be made of copper, the latter together with its weight subdivisions: 5on, 3on, 1on, 5grs, 3grs, 1grs, 5den, 3den, 1den, 5gn, 3gn, 1gn, and 2 demi-grains, which shall be hallmarked by an official, appointed for this purpose, and sent to every district administration, in all the different departments of the realm and three months after the publication of the law.

X The production of the aforementioned measure standards shall be put out to tender at a discount; and, in order to maintain the uniformity of the pied national and, at the same time, to have it done at a moderate price, the successful bidder shall be granted a two-year time privilege for the manufacture of the said pied national only, whether of copper, wood, or other materials; all, on the condition that none is issued until it has been thoroughly checked and hallmarked, and to always have enough to supply the capital and the entire kingdom.

XI Under the authority of the administrative assembly, a verifier shall be elected in each district, whose duty shall be that to preserve and hallmark the measurement standards, to whom every artisan and merchant shall refer for the calibration and hallmark of their own standards; a fee shall be set for the verifier, according to the quality of said weight and measure standards.

XII The verifier chosen in each district can mark the ancient measure standards, provided that their quality is adequate and only after having converted them all into the new ones indicated above or into their multiples.

XIII At the same time as the verifiers place the mark on the measure standards, whether new or ancient, and principally on those of capacity as well as weights, he shall stamp in figures and initial letters, the value or numerical expression of the quantity of the aforementioned measures and weights.

XIV District administrations shall task the aforementioned verifiers, or someone else deemed suitable, to make a general table with the conversion ratios between all the measures in use in their territory and the national ones; the table shall be posted in the town hall of the chief town of said district.

XV In every account relative to finance, commerce and others, sums shall only be expressed in livres-tournois, tenths, hundredths and thousandths. These words, livres-tournois, shall never be separated, until the habit of replacing one expression with the other becomes sufficiently spread; at that point, the law shall state the suppression of the former one. To facilitate both the relationship between decimal calculation and the actual coinage, and the true fractionary payments, some pieces of two sous or decimes, representing one tenth of a livre, and some pieces of sous or demi-decime, representing one twentieth of a livre shall be produced, when new billon coins are made. Lastly, a coin of lower value, under the name of obole or of centime shall be produced as well. Actual billon coins shall maintain their current usage until it is ordered otherwise.

XVI In all accounts, concerning money sums, delivered quantities or works to be measured, said quantities shall be calculated with enough decimal numbers, so that it results a sufficiently exact approximation for fractional sums. Approximations shall be as follows: For all money sums, at least one thousandth of the main unit, or three decimals of the livre-tournois. For all measures of linear extension, one thousandth of the unit of the specified measure, or three decimals. For all measures of surface, ten thousandths of the specified unit, or four decimals. For cubic and capacity measures, ten thousandths of the unit of all measures above the cubic pied included; and only one thousandth of the unit for measures of a lower quantity. For weights, one thousandth of the unit or three decimals; and in case of precious materials, like gold and silver, the unit shall always be the denier national. All of this shall be applied to all measures mentioned above, unless otherwise agreed or ordered in specific cases.

Notes

As already done in a previous post, I chose not to translate the words of all the measurement units in English, since in most cases there's no equivalent in said language. Italics are mine and slightly different from the original work, because I wanted to highlight the words left in French.

(1) A digitized version of Prieur's work can be found on Gallica. Here's a modern transcription of it.

(2) The other works that received mention during the National Assembly sitting of 9th May 1790, when the matter about the diversity of measures was addressed, were Découverte d'étalons justes, naturels, invariables et universels by Claude-Boniface Collignon, Observations de la Société royale d'agriculture sur l'uniformité des poids et mesures by Tillet and Abeille and Proposition faite à l'Assemblée nationale, sur les poids et mesures by Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord. It was the latter's proposal that caught the attention of the deputies, despite lacking the rigour and the originality of those of his colleagues.

Notes on the nomenclature

pied [pl. -s] = foot; main unit of length. The most common and used was the pied du roi, equivalent to ~ 32,48 cm or ~ 106, 56 ft. The pied national [pl. nationaux] proposed by Prieur would be ~ 33,13 cm or ~ 108,68 ft.

pouche[pl. -s] = inch.

perche [pl. -s] = "long pole", "staff"; unit of length for long distances.

milliaire [pl. -s] = mile; same as above.

aune [pl. -s] = it doesn't have a translation; this unit was used exclusively for amounts of cloth.

arpent [pl. -s] = no translation; unit for land areas.

muid [pl. -s] = no translation; unit for wheat amounts.

moule [pl. -s] = no translation; unit for firewood amounts.

livre [pl. -s] = pound; unit for both weight and currencies.

once [pl. -s] = ounce.

gros [pl. -s] = "thick penny".

denier [pl. -s] = penny.

grain [pl. -s] = grain; unit for tiny masses

décade, écatade, chiliade, protade have no translations, since these words are purely Prieur's invention.

[cyeli-no]

4ggravate Pre-Proposal (Pt. 1)

—where it's just three Dendro fools simping over Cyno and wanting to have a perfect proposal for him

Linked Posts:

Part 2: 4ggravate Pre-Marriage: Doubts post

─── ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Dehya and Candace are some of the first to hear about the decision because Al-Haitham, who became close to the duo throughout his time in the desert and with Cyno, wants to respect his culture in the proposal. It seems disrespectful to forego his background and his family when asking for Cyno's life and dedication.

Dehya is unrelenting with her teasing, offering help disguised as friendly banter. He nearly regrets telling her when it turns out Candace is the one to offer the most help. She gives him a few traditions common throughout the desert, but the Temple of Silence does not share the same customs as she does.

She tells him how Cyno once mentioned how suitors will gift jewelry made of gold and gems during the engagement. The proposee's family usually receives a dowry of some type, too. Between giving the dowry and presenting the gifts, a marriage contract is written. Typically, it is between the father and the suitor, but the individual is often included.

"It is not for permission, necessarily." She clarifies when she watches the frown begin to form on his expression, eyebrows tightening. The memory of Cyno's reaction when he realized how deeply the former sages mistreated and used him rests heavy in their minds. At least she can verify how much Al-Haitham truly cares. "In the end, it is up to the individual to accept the proposal and make adjustments to the contract. Simply, it is acknowledging the important of our families."

Al-Haitham does pause for a moment in deep contemplation. "Yes, that makes sense." He ends up deciding on, though Candace offers him a small smile.

She shakes her head, "You may not understand them completely, but I'm glad you care to know about our traditions." He takes it as the sign of approval that it actually is.

He leaves with Dehya, who smiles contently throughout the entire walk back. She tells him a bit about their traditional wedding rings and wedding celebration customs before admitting, "Knowing Tighnari, I suspected it wouldn't be a desert wedding. At least now, it'll be like bringing the desert to him."

Al-Haitham rejects that notion instantly. "We cannot bring the desert to him. I know nothing of the desert and all I have come to learn was brought by Cyno himself. It would be a mockery to do anything besides welcome what he brings." Dehya's eyes blink shut as they pause in their journey. She can feel the familiar heat against her skin and the smell of the desert winds.

"You've thought about this a lot, hm?" She teases lightly, his completely honest affirmation making her grin, "Good." She says something in a dialect Al-Haitham does not quite understand. He can understand a few vague phrases, but she explains it to him without being asked once she finishes, "It is an old prayer. May your future together be filled with happiness and love that even when you reach the afterlife, you will traverse those unknown lands together."

─── ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tighnari and Kaveh are quick to agree to the idea. Truth be told, they both wanted to do something for Cyno and were debating something similar. Luckily, it truly felt as if everything was perfect for them. Al-Haitham and his endless pockets could definitely afford the dowry (though Cyrus' actual acceptance might be a bit more difficult to get with his outright disdain for his darshan), Kaveh works on designing the jewelry himself, and Tighnari works on creating simple (maybe a bit more detailed than the ones Dehya described) rings for all four of them.

When they go to discuss their plans to propose with Cyrus, Al-Haitham is prepared to give an entire presentation. Tighnari takes over before Kaveh's stressed rants can start and before Al-Haitham says something that might make them lose Cyrus' good graces.

Cyrus frowns when they ask if they are allowed to propose to and to marry Cyno. "Asking me to give him over is quite the archaic request." He muses.

It is Kaveh who answers this. Tighnari and Al-Haitham may be more logical, but Kaveh is intently attuned to his emotions and the emotions of others. He knows Cyno and his desires well, "Cyno respects your opinion and would be hurt if we did not try to include his family." He pauses for just a second to gather his bearings. He doesn't want to bare his entire heart to his soon-to-be father-in-law (hopefully), but he knows the man respects honestly as much as his son. "Cyno always makes sure the memories of our families are a priority. As one of the only living relatives he has, your blessing will mean a lot to him... and to us as well."

Cyrus is not a man of few words. He has spoken at length about jokes, the main reason Cyno tries them to lighten the mood. Still, the air constricts Kaveh as he simply stares at the architect with a frown. Cyno might be scary to some, but his body becomes rigid under the intense staring of the General's father. However, he will not avert his eyes. He knows discomfort well and knows, as his throat tightens and nearly chokes the air out of his lungs, that the comfort and love of Cyno is worth every second.

"You are good kids." Cyrus finally nods at Kaveh and Tighnari. Kaveh's entire body eases at the affirmation, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth in relief. He nearly misses how the man warily eyes Al-Haitham for a moment before he shakes his head with a low chuckle. "As long as Cyno is happy, my blessing is yours." It's a needless threat, Cyrus knows, but he feels better nonetheless.

("Do they make you happy?" He asked his son when the eventual topic of his partners came up.

In hindsight, it was quite a strange question to ask because the answer was so obvious. "Do I seem unhappy?" The younger man asked, the confusion answered by a fond smile.

Cyrus has always been better at expressing his love compared to his two top students. He ruffled Cyno's hair lightly, "No. I just want to know how they treat you."

Cyno nodded, accepting the explanation completely. "They love me," those three words were enough to ease Cyrus' heart, "more than anyone else can.

"And I love them the same.")

"Another word of warning." Cyrus mentions as they are leaving his house, "Lisa Minci will not allow you to marry him if you do not invite her to the engagement."

─── ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

They, heeding Cyrus' advice, tell Lisa, Collei, Nahida, and Nilou. At one point, Tighnari gets worried they are telling too many people before even asking Cyno to marry them.

Al-Haitham just says, "They're family," and that's that.

Family, Tighnari echoes, when Collei runs up to hug him in her excitement. Family, he smiles, as Lisa smacks Kaveh lightly for waiting so long to ask the question. Family, he accepts, as Nilou and Nahida offer their help with wedding planning or support if they ever need it.

Family, he wishes for, when Cyno meets them for dinner with a bright smile, "I'm home." He glows despite the days of work coating his skin in dirt.

"Welcome home, love." Tighnari welcomes him closer and showers him with all the adoration he has been holding onto in the pits of his heart in anticipation of tonight. Tonight, to the world, they will become a family in every sense of the word.

Family, Tighnari learns, comes with the heat of the desert without any of the burning discomfort.

He cannot completely understand the clear discomfort and stress showing on the faces of the other two. They all know Cyno; he who is more devoted than anyone else will definitely say yes. And if he doesn't, he is nothing but kind. There is no world where they will be rejected cruelly.

The question hangs in the air, Cyno's eyes wide in surprise as he scans the three as if checking them for honesty. "Really?" It is a crime how soft his voice is. It is uncommon for him to be uncertain and it aches Tighnari's heart.

"We wouldn't ask if we weren't serious." It is a bit sassier than it needs to be, but his voice is firm to scare away his doubts.

It must do the trick because a breathless huff escapes him. Kaveh worriedly steps closer as garnet eyes glisten under the flickering candlelights, "Cyno—?"

"Yes." He answers them, and the gentle laugh that is slightly clogged by the tears welling in his eyes is the loveliest sound. "Yes..."

The second time is enough to rip Al-Haitham out of his stupor to reach out and catch Cyno's face in his hands. He presses a kiss to the top of the General's head, sighing away his stress, "Good."

Kaveh nearly shoves the man aside in his haste to hug Cyno. The latter's laughter fills the air as Kaveh falls onto his lap, "Sevens above, I adore you." He says, planting kisses on his cheeks.

Cyno can't get a word in as Tighnari's tail curls around his arm, dragging his attention to the side. Whispering against his ear and affectionately nuzzling him, "We're yours forever."

Forever... Forever sounds lovely.

[misscrawfords]

I've been listening to Pride and Prejudice again this week in the car - I've got as far as Mrs. Gardiner's letter - and oh, my heart! So many thoughts and feelings. (Pls ask me about P&P, please.) Anyway, one thing I've been reflecting on is how the plot is almost too neat. It's fairytale-like in that there's really no way it could have happened IRL - what are the odds that Elizabeth's best friend marries Darcy's aunt's clergyman and they all happen to be in Kent together? What are the odds that Elizabeth goes to Derbyshire and visits his estate at exactly the time he arrives back? etc. etc. In real life, none of this could have happened. P&P is as tightly plotted and sparse in its extraneous details in the same way that Emma is and Emma is possibly the tightest plotted novel ever written.

But it got me thinking about P&P "variations" as the published fanfic is called and how unlikely so much of it is. People really want to make Austen's characters do things they absolutely never would. There is zero chance that Elizabeth would accept Mr. Collins. There is less than zero chance that Mr. Darcy would compromise her and force her to marry him. (Mr Darcy? The guy who thinks staring uncomfortably at a woman across the room is flirting? As if!) These so-called variations might end up with interesting plots but are fundamentally flawed because the characters who would act in these ways are absolutely not the characters Austen wrote.

So I was wondering where you could successfully have a variation. It would have to be a scenario in which circumstances change but not characters. So here are a few I think could work (and almost certainly have been written):

Bingley meets Jane in London. Despite Darcy and Caroline's best efforts, it's not inconceivable that they might bump into each other. London's big but not that big. It's as plausible as the meeting at Pemberley. I can't imagine Bingley could be persuaded against Jane when she's actually in front of him, looking sad and ill because she missed him so much. But what of his relationship with Darcy? Surely strained at this point. And what of Darcy's relationship with Elizabeth now that they'd be thrown together much more much earlier on and in a way that ensures continuous acquaintance. What happens with Lydia? Unlikely she'd ever go to Brighton. Jane's marriage changes the Bennets' circumstances entirely. Everything is changed here but it's an intriguing AU and not implausible.

Elizabeth and the Gardiners go to the Lakes. I mean... it's only authorial dabbling that means they don't in the first place. The Pemberley sequence never happens. Big repercussions for the development of Darcy's character, Elizabeth's feelings and Lydia's reputation. How do you get them all back together? Uncertain. Another more minor but potentially interesting change in this area would be the Gardiners always intending to go to Derbyshire. The journey is brought up at Rosings. Darcy pre-proposal invites Elizabeth and her relations to Pemberley. It gives him an opportunity to be nicer earlier but how does Elizabeth receive it? What happens at the proposal consequently? What happens to the offered invitation post-refusal? Becomes even more awkward in Derbyshire.

Georgiana accompanies Darcy and the Bingleys to Netherfield. Not the AU I'd be most interested in because I think Wickham would nope out of there the second he knows Georgiana is in town because there's no way Darcy wouldn't act if his sister's wellbeing was on the line, so that whole plot would be knocked on the head. However, the possibility of a friendship being struck up between Elizabeth and Georgiana at Netherfield while Jane is ill is a cute one. (Though I think without an interest in Darcy himself, Elizabeth would take time to warm up to Georgiana - lbr the Bennet who would instantly become her big sister is Jane.)

Lydia never lets slip about Darcy being at her wedding. Not a very interesting AU because Elizabeth would find out somehow and Bingley and Darcy would return to Netherfield anyway and she's in love with him even without knowing about Lydia so....

Can you think of any more AU possibilities like this that don't involve the characters acting OOC to set up the premise?

[ecklipzs]

Let's Talk About Omori!

PART 1 - The 'Incident'

Honestly, I have no idea where to start as Omori and it's story is so beautifully complex and carefully written- and I want to be able to write and express my ideas about it without leaving out the small details that makes Omori what it is and mischaracterizing any of the unique characters. (which is extremely common in this fandom) Just know that I am not an expert in any way possible, I'm just a silly little omori fan wanting to write about their interests. TW: talk of death, suicide, and violence.

Mari & Sunny

To start this off, I think we should talk about the history behind Mari and Sunny. Using what we were shown in Final Duet and Basil's photo album, Mari was likely a leading role in Sunny's life- introducing him to music and his friends. Since it's obvious that Sunny doesn't speak a lot, Mari probably did most of the speaking for him. Despite not showing his emotions clearly, we can assume that Sunny cared for Mari and trusted her a lot. Multiple times in the game, Mari was described as having a 'bad knee'. If you go to the tree house in RW and interact with the baseball bat, it'll tell you about how Mari quit softball due to a leg injury. (i don't know if this is accurate i pulled this from the omori wiki) This makes me think that music might've been Mari's last resort, angry and upset with herself (as we can assume that she was a perfectionist) and devoting all of her time into music- eventually pulling Sunny in with her.

The Recital + Mari and Sunny's Stress

As I said before, Mari was probably a major perfectionist. When proposed with the (likely Mari's) idea of a recital, this stressed Sunny out- as I fully believe Sunny had some major stage fright- and caused him to lose focus, and make mistakes. This might've stressed Mari out a lot as well, trying not to be upset with Sunny though she wanted the piece to be perfect. This led Mari to overworking Sunny until he eventually couldn't take it any more.

The Incident

Finally, it happens. After what I think would be weeks of overworking, Sunny snapped on Mari. I think Sunny was likely extremely burnt out and ended up telling Mari about his stress and other feelings about the recital, to which Mari responded with offense and maybe even anger, causing Sunny to feel as if his feelings were being invalidated. This quickly escalated the situation, Sunny getting angrier as they began to argue- before walking out on her. At this point, Mari was probably PISSED, believing that Sunny was throwing away everything that she worked for. This became a lot more literal when Sunny threw his violin down the stairs, breaking it entirely. This likely sent Mari into a full on fit, leading her to lash out on Sunny. This is probably when it got messy, Sunny feeling invalidated and offended, and Mari feeling as if her dream was being taken away from her once again, just like softball. Now, I fully believe that Sunny didn't mean to push Mari anywhere but away from him- but whether or not that's true- we don't know. Maybe, Sunny meant to push her down the stairs, but I think that's very unlikely. And do you remember how I told you about that knee injury Mari had? I believe, this probably played a major role in Mari's death, as many people could've survived this fall- even if they did end up with extreme injuries. Moving on, I think Sunny most likely didn't even realize what happened for a few seconds, but when he did he was probably sent into a major shock. This would also explain some of his actions, such as dragging her to the bed as if she was asleep. (not sure if this is what really happened or not, but it was shown in the photos of the incidents) Though it could be that he didn't even know she was dead, I think he knew, and was just clinging on to the slim possibility of her being alive.

Basil's Role

Basil's role in this situation is a tricky thing to talk about- as we don't know a lot about what he was thinking or feeling. The only information we can pull from him is what we were shown. So, I'm gonna start off with just that. I think that Basil probably didn't see the argument that led up to Sunny pushing Mari, and only walked in when things began to escalate. His main goal at that moment was probably trying to keep Sunny calm, and safe- though a part of him was still concerned about Mari. (i'll go into a lot more depth abt this in my basil analysis i plan on writing) This could explain why instead of calling the ambulance, or the police, he decided to do what he did- staging Mari's suicide by hanging her in Sunny's backyard. I believe that Basil was driven by his abandonment issues and extreme fear of ever losing Sunny. (basil and sunny's relationship was definitely very codependent) Instead of focusing on Mari, he focused on Sunny- which led him to something he would regret.

The End

yippie!! i'm done!!! even though this is purely self indulgent i hope anyone who reads this enjoys this bc i spent way too much time thinking abt it. im praying that i'll have as much motivation i had when writing this when i go to write my basil analysis- anyways...

by the way this was NOT beta read

bye bye!

[ace-beef]

A year ago today I saw my favourite band, Ghost, and during the concert the love of my life and my entire universe proposed to me during the song Mary On a Cross.

Winter of 2023 into 2024 we planned our wedding service in full, having a document where everything was written down and organised. We started budgeting for both the wedding and immigration for them to move to the UK once we were married. We were contacting venues for their prices. We made a list of everyone we wanted to invite. We decided on a colour scheme and a theme. We started writing the first drafts of our vows to each other.

By April of this year, we had pretty much decided on the venue we wanted, and so started planning the logistics and the details.

Early June this year, they went to go and try on dresses, not intending to actually buy any, but they found one that they loved. They sent me the pictures. I had and still never have seen anything or anyone more beautiful and pretty and gorgeous in my entire life. They bought the dress that day, and I sent money as a contribution because they were so happy with that dress.

This winter, we were going to visit the venue we wanted and hopefully have everything booked by the new year. We were going to go suit shopping to find a suit for me. I was going to show them more of the UK and help them to adjust to things here.

We were going to get married November 2025. By the end of 2025, we were hoping to have started looking for a place while we both lived with my parents.

A month ago, in the last week of July, my worst nightmare happened, which was something I thought would never happen because of how much we spoke about being made perfectly for each other, being crafted from the same star, how our marriage was set in fate, how we would never find another who even came close in comparison. But we broke up. Sometimes, no matter how much love you feel for each other, no matter how much love you pour into each other’s souls, I guess sometimes love just isn’t enough.

A quote that sums up my emotions about today, a year on from the day we got engaged, is one from my favourite film, The World’s End: “that night was supposed to be the beginning of my life, all that promise and fucking optimism, that feeling like we could take on the whole universe… it was a big lie, nothing happened.”

[imaginespazzi]

Nivi! Babes, another weekly update?? Be careful, a girl could get used to this 😂 It also inspired me to get this review to you asap cause like you, the next couple months are gonna get pretty busy for me so my future thinkpieces may also be a bit delayed!

First off, Jana and Azzi are lowk my favourite UConn duo (outside of Paige & Azzi obvs) like that is her surrogate child fr so I’m always eating up their scenes! And I’m glad to see Jana continue living up to her menace ways and passing that on to Stephie.

Also, can I just say, I love this GSV team already. Manifesting this irl.

Speaking of manifesting, universe look away from all the angst that Nivi has and continues to cook up. We are only ever manifesting the CUTE FLUFFINESS and the CHAMPIONSHIPS, like that UConn 2025 (and 2026) natty 😌.

“You gotta let that hurt go Aunty Joy” – gotta be one of my favourite lines you’ve ever written I swear 😆

Stephie really was just a lil menace this whole scene, the “nevermind… it’s just Aunty Liyah” - she cracks me up bruh, like she really does not care about anybody else not named “Mama” or “Miss Buecks” 😭

Their poor teammates putting in all that unpaid and under-appreciated labour and they don’t even have a single clue about the family drama they’re about to be put through.

All the Paige, Azzi and Stephie scenes had me smiling so fkn hard (well, not the last one but we’ll get to that later)!! It was just so domestic and fluffy and so real. The entire scene while they were unpacking in the master bedroom has my whole heart, especially when Stephie hugged Azzi from behind and had that cute, playful moment together, and knowing Paige was burning that vision into her eyelids.

Ok so Paige can’t just go around saying these things- “I’m just telling you I don’t wanna be alone tonight” and “just like your Mama used to”- so casually. I just feel like Azzi could ask Paige to move in with her and Stephie; heck Azzi could propose to her right there, right now, and Paige would say “yes” in a heartbeat (despite everything that’s happened) and it breaks my heart that Paige can’t have that.

The SLAM cover shirt! I definitely started crying at this point. “I couldn’t let it go” was the breaking point.

And then the final scene. Something about you writing chapter 4s that absolutely wreck me. Because I still vividly remember part 4 of the ucla fic, which to this day, still has one of my all-time favourite angst scenes. And you go and continue that trend with this part 4 scene.

Just when we think we’re in our fluff era, in typical Nivi fashion, you pull the rug out from under us (I know there were warning bells, but like Azzi, I chose to ignore that 😤). Azzi frantically trying to get Stephie and go, Stephie not knowing what’s happening and P helplessly watching on– ugh, just thinking about it physically pains me.

Don’t even talk to me about the “Miss Buecks I wanna stay. Can I please stay?”. That was too much Nivi, too much!

“She’s gonna want you forever… and she can’t have you forever” and “you’re not gonna have time for her and missing you is going to kill her and the guilt of that is going to hurt you” – man, this was such a perfect way of giving us an insight /teaser about why they broke up and oof, I had a feeling it was gonna be something like this. Side note: I had the Sad Beautiful Tragic bridge running through my mind on a loop once I read those lines.

I know we don’t have all the details yet, but I can understand Azzi’s fear of being left behind (funny knowing that had always been Paige’s fear in life until Azzi came along) or thinking that she was holding P back someway somehow as P entered the league with her star shining brighter and brighter. And so, I imagine the last line parallels what she thought back then too, which was that she might as well crack her and Paige’s hearts before they got to a point where if (although in Azzi’s mind, it was probably more like when) it broke, it could never mend again. I could be wrong but that was my interpretation!

But like Azzi, bruh, it’s PAIGE. Your soulmate. Your best friend. The yin to your yang. She’s never gonna leave you (and Stephie) behind (right, Nivi???). Plus, y’all are already attached, like it’s too late anyway!! So take that leap of faith, princess! And I need you to take it ASAP cause I wanna get back to the FLUFF, please.

What’s next?

Refer to the last dot point above.

But also, I recall you saying something about a beautiful French teammate?? We can still explore that.

No actually, what I need is a scene where some woman tries to talk to Paige and maybe is getting a little too close or too handsy and Stephie immediately comes barrelling in between and sternly says “we’re going home to Mama now, miss, so goodbye”

I’m assuming Azzi and Stephie have seen Tim and Katie throughout the past month? Do Tim and Katie know that Stephie’s basically found her other mom now?? Honestly, Tim and Katie probably have their own bet going lmao.

The thing is, while that last scene broke me, I also know that’s probably just scratching the surface when it comes to the angst, but I just don’t know if I can take much more 😭 You still haven’t even gotten to the Drew and Azzi angst yet like omg, my poor heart 💔💔

Favourite line/quote:

It’s their SLAM cover t-shirt and Azzi feels tears prickling at her waterline as she’s met with the picture of a younger version of the two of them. Back when they’d been so hopeful and carefree, ready to take on the world as long as they could do it together. Back when they’d been 2 in a million.

Alrighty, enjoy the rest of your week bestie, and hope you and everyone else are enjoying the Olympics so far (Aussie, Aussie, Aussie… finish that off for me Nivi 🎤😜). Also, in woso news, did you see about the potential live stream of Sam and Kristie watching the Australia vs USA match – I would loooove that (though we’d prolly lose cause our defending is shocking atm 😭)

Catch you later bestie, hopefully in another week’s time 🤞😬💗

-🙋‍♀️

BESTIE!!! Lmao do not get used to it, we all know I'm gonna disappoint you eventually (probably this week.)

Big Jana and Azzi fan here fr fr so I'm glad we're all on board.

I lowkey giggled to myself writing that line so I'm glad it hit because personally, I think Stephie might be the funniest person ever between that and the accidental "oh it's just Aunt Liyah" shade. She's just a girl with priorities.

I'm kind of in love with Paige-Azzi-Stephie as a trio so honestly writing fluff is really growing on me (no this doesn't mean the angst will stop tee hee)

The issue with Paige and Azzi in this fic is that Paige says everything she feels and Azzi holds everything in. It's actually a very volatile combination even though Paige isn't lying and Azzi's got good intentions.

I couldn't miss up a chance to add in some real life lore, you know me.

"In typical Nivi fashion" has me dying like damn I've built up a reputation huh?

I have a fair amount planned with why Azzi said no and what was happening in her brain. It wasn't just one thing for Azzi but a couple of things that made her hesitant and from where she's coming from, she's not necessarily wrong.

Fluff soon! (but how soon? and will it last? mwahhaha!)

YES beautiful French teammate that you and a couple of anons have reference, she's coming!

WAIT I LOVE THAT! Will definitely see what I can do cause now I'm kinda obsessed with the idea.

Bueckers and Fudd family reunions are going to be fun to right for sure!

I AM NAWT FINISHING THAT AUSSIE AUSSIE. Freaking NBC jinxing my swimmers but just you wait, we're gonna fight back! Between Sam-Kristie and Preath, my Pazzi shipper heart is yearning for the same from our favorite gays, hopefully soon!

[musette22]

Hey sweetheart, how are you doing? Busy and overwhelmed, I assume, I hope you're getting enough rest though, sorry for adding even more asks to your inbox, you can answer this whenever you want/can, or not at all. I mean it.

So, this morning I wrote an entire ask and was just about to send it, when my mom called and I just tried to click "send" but I doubt it ever got sent. But if it has (I highly doubt it), then ignore this haha.

https://www.tumblr.com/musette22/757098480109043712/the-fact-that-everyone-is-talking-about-it

Oh my god, may I add something to this? (Side note: don't expect a 'point' and how it's related to the other post in this paragraph, but I'll get there I swear 😂) I have given a lot of thoughts to Seb and Chris playing a couple in something, where they're in good hands of people who just see their chemistry like we do, someone who gets it, you know? Not because they wouldn't exude sexual/romantic aura (?) through the screen in the shittiest projects, no, but this pairing deserves to be portrayed as a couple in something well written and well-produced, and again, someone who brings their chemistry to life onscreen to its full potential. Like, imagine them playing a married couple with a daughter in a black mirror or something (no I know, but hear me out😂) where they're two educated people who just want to protect their daughter and themselves from the modern society where it seems like they're the only sane ones, and everybody is so insane with this age of technology and how stupid people are getting every single day, you get the idea, classic black mirror. And I know there's nothing original about this idea, but they would absolutely nail it. Hell, I have this whole episode in my head with so much detail that it's embarrassing, just because I WANT EVANSTAN. Like I can literally see it in my head, their looks, their outfits, set design, the story, some very specific scenes, everything. Wow, it really is embarrassing. Jesus..

Anyway, I said all of that, just to say, imagine if that happened, their chemistry would make everyone go insane; I just know that so many people would be like "holy shit how did I never pay attention before?" Or just about how PERFECT of a couple they make.

I don't know, I just think about it quite often you know? The general public would have an eye-opening experience for sure and I would be sooo satisfied to see that. 😂 ugh.

Hiiiii sweetheart!! 💖💖 I'm doing well thank you, very busy like you said, but overall feeli g very good (and the boys' unexpected reunion played no small part in that, of course 😍). I hope you're doing wonderfully yourself, darling, and thank you so much for this delightful message!!!

I actually LOVE this idea so much, I love that it's a slightly different take on what we've all been saying for years, namely that Chris and Sebastian should be playing a couple in something to utilise their chemistry and make literally everyone happy by finally reuniting them properly on screen! But usually we talk about romcoms, or romantic dramas, but while that obviously holds its own appeal, there's something about the scenario you're proposing that's maybe even better?

Like, it wouldn't be quite as much of a spectacle (like a romcom certainly would be), and it would instead feel more real and more powerful, you know? An episode in an ongoing, well-written and made series, in which them being a couple is just a given, and it's them (and their daughter 😫) against the world, and it would give them the opportunity to show just how GOOD they are together, how well they work together and how easy and natural, and they'd absolutely nail the drama & intensity of a plot line like that ❤️

So yes, I can absolutely see why you're so invested in this idea, and I would LOVE it if I could just see all those images and scenes in your head because it sounds so wonderful 😍

And GOD, it would be so satisfying to see everyone losing their minds over their chemistry again, but this time like times a hundred, because it would be like EXTREMELY obvious all of a sudden, even to those whose eyes hadn't been opened to it before. I want it si bad 😭 Which deity/exec do we have to pray to to make this happen!?

Thanks again for sharing all of this with us!!! Sending lots of love and hugs, sweetheart 💖💖

[starlitangels]

Why I'm 'The' Avior Fan

for @plaqying's little Awards event!

I have quite a few reasons

The first is that he's been my favorite character since I first heard his playlist and made myself obnoxious on this blog about that fact

Basically, the brainrot took hold and I was one of the ones who was constantly thinking about his story and proposing potential theories for where his plotline was going

I listened to his playlist so many times, trying to pick out any tiny little obscure details for lore and hints and clues, and I made a lot of posts about it

Another big reason I could be considered "the" Avior fan is that I have had people tag me in Avior fan art that others had done with captions like "Star, I think you'll want to see this" (I did). My reputation for being That One Person who was Unbelievably Down Bad/Obsessed had spread enough that people would see Avior and one of their thoughts when they reblogged it was to tag me because they knew I'd go wild over it (I did)

Does crying my eyes out for the entire 45 minute Truth audio count as a reason? Because my investment was so deep and my heartbreak was so much that I literally couldn't stop? Thank the heavens I was home alone at the time my husband would have been so confused lol

I don't know if I've written the most Avior fanfiction out there but I definitely wrote a lot and quite a few of them got a lot of response about being pretty good, so I'll take that

I also wrote some heartbreakingly angsty Avior headcanons that got me (affectionately) yelled at iirc

Also, I started learning how to draw again after a... multi-year hiatus because I specifically wanted to draw pieces of Avior and Starlight's story #Dedication

My profile picture has almost always been some variation of my version of Starlight

You could literally ask anyone who are regulars in my notes "Which Redacted voiced character do you associate with Star" and I guarantee most of them would say Avior maybe Elliott if they found me during that one specific era last spring but that's beside the point

A very kind soul on my birthday one year drew a doodle of Avior giving me a cupcake. Said kind soul didn't even have to ask who would make me the happiest to receive a cupcake from

I am, literally, like, The Avior Person to a lot of people around here and you can ask around and they would probably tell you that immediately

Lastly, my energy for keeping up with Redacted kinda faded in this last little while it will be back, I guarantee you but even when I was starting to feel myself pulling away a little, I will still drop everything and run to grab my headphones when Avior gets his rare uploads

Oh did I say lastly? Too bad I'm still going I literally have done more fan art for Avior than any other character in the history of me learning how to draw. I also consistently tag posts about him with "Sarcastic Demon my beloved" because, again, he is my beloved XD

This one specific character just kinda grabbed me and refused to let go and there were many days of washing dishes filled with me relistening to Sovereign State over and over and over again

Also Erik dropped Other Side by Anberlin as "a song with Avior vibes" and it immediately got added to like three playlists of mine because it slapped and also broke my heart but that was right before the Truth audio and it still breaks my heart but this is slightly less relevant

[duckprintspress]

Fandom Lexicon: F

Considering that “F” is the first word of “fan,” “fandom,” and “fiction” … there are a lot of entries in the letter F. And here they all are!

Check out the full lexicon posted thus far here.

Spot a mistake? Think of a term we missed? Drop us an ask or comment!

Lexicon Terms Beginning with F: (read more)

Faceclaim: When someone assigns a celebrity’s face to their original character. Most often used in a roleplay setting. Those participating in a roleplaying scenario together may make rules against multiple characters having the same face. See also: fancast. Read more about faceclaims.

Fan edit: 1. A short video in which the creator patches together clips from the source fandom(s) and sets those clips to music and/or uses them to tell an abbreviated version of the original story or an entirely new story. See also: edit. 2. A photo manipulation in which a creator takes images from their fandom and modifies them. Often called a manip. Read more about types of fan edits.

Fanart: Artwork based on original media, often using the same characters and/or settings, but placing them in new contexts. Read more about fanart.

Fanartist: A person who creates fanart.

Fanboy: Someone who gets very excited about something they’re a fan of, but in a way that is seen as more “masculine.” Despite the gendered language, this term can be applied to any and all genders; several non-gendered variations (such as “fanswirl”) have been proposed, but none have caught on. See also: fangirl. Read more about the term “fanboy.”

Fancast: When a fan decides that a specific character would be best depicted by a specific real individual. This usually involves actual actors, but that isn’t necessarily a requirement. Similar to faceclaiming, but typically focused on characters from other media rather than on an individual’s original characters. For example, if someone reads a book and then decides which performers they’d like to see portray the characters in a live-action adaptation, that’s a fancast. Read more about fancasts.

Fandom : 1. A collective term for everyone who is a fan (of anything and everything – from a book through a sport’s team to an activity such as fishing and everything in between). 2. A collective term for people who are fans of a specific thing (media, character, actor, sport, etc.). 3. A term for the environment in which a person might express their enjoyment of a specific thing/things. Read more about what a fandom is.

Fanfic: Shortened term for “fanfiction.”

Fanfiction: Written works of fiction based on original media, often using the same characters and/or settings, but placing them in new contexts, extending the storylines, or otherwise transforming them per the writer’s specifications. Read more about fanfiction.

Fangirl: Someone who gets very excited about something they’re a fan of, but in a way that is seen as more “feminine.” Despite the gendered language, this term can be applied to any and all genders; several non-gendered variations (such as “fanswirl”) been proposed, but none have caught on. See also: fanboy. Read more about the term “fangirl.”

Fanlore: A wiki run by the OTW that compiles fandom-related information – basically a much, much larger and better documented version of this lexicon. See also: AO3, OTW. Visit Fanlore.org.

Fanmix: A fanmix is a selection of music, such as would be on a mixtape or mix CD, that a fan has compiled because of how they feel the music relates to a fandom or fandoms of their choice. Read more about fanmixes.

Fanon: An idea about a character, setting, plot, or other detail about a story that is not explicitly stated in the source material but is believed to be true. Fanon may be personal and believed by only one person or may become popular and become an established part of the fandom vernacular for a given fandom. See also: canon, head canon. Read more about the term “fanon.”

Fanwork: The collective term for all creations that fans make as part of their participation in fandom, such as fanfiction, fanart, edits, manips, filk, meta, and more. Read more about fanworks.

Fanzine: See zine.

Feelings Yakuza: See Okimochi Yakuza.

Feels: As in “right in the feels.” Used to describe when something makes a person emotional despite themselves. Read more about the term “feels.”

Femslash: Lesbian and wlw fanworks, shipping female characters together. See also: slash. Read more about femslash.

Fest: A fandom event centered on a specific theme, often characterized by many prompts or other interaction opportunities scheduled over a period of time that result in the creation and sharing of numerous informal/smaller creations. Read more about fests.

FF.net: Abbreviation for fanfiction.net. A website that hosts fanfiction. Visit FF.net.

Fic: Short for fiction or fanfiction.

Fic Rec: Shortened term for “fanfiction recommendation.” A fanfic that someone has recommended because it’s one of their personal favorites and/or on some criteria (for example, “fanfics set at a beach.”) Fic recs are often compiled into rec lists. Read more about recs.

Ficlet: A short fanfiction. Ficlets are usually under 1,000 words. See also: drabble, flash fic. Read more about ficlets.

Filk: Essentially fanfic in music form, though the medium may make the connection less obvious. For example, Come With Me by chxrlotte is about Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens. Read more about filk.

Fix-it: A fanwork that fixes a perceived or actual problem in the source material. For example, a fix-it might offer an explanation for an actual plot hole, or it may be created to segue between canon and popular fanon, or it might be used to change an unhappy event in canon (such as a character dying) into a tale with a happier ending. Read more about fix-its.

Flame: To be intentionally offensive toward someone on the internet. Often used as a verb. Read more about flames and flaming.

Flamewar: When two or more people engage in reciprocal flaming, exchanging increasingly offensive and/or violent posts with each other, the resulting back-and-forth is called a flamewar. This term has largely fallen out of fashion; “discourse” and “wank” are used more often now. Read more about flamewars.

Flash Fic: Shortened term for “flash fiction.” Very short fiction stories, typically not more than a couple hundred words. Read more about flash fiction.

Fluff: Refers to fics or scenes that are soft, soothing, calm, domestic, and/or loving – the in-betweens and soft points we rarely see on the published page or the TV screen because they are the opposite of conflict. Read more about fluff.

Follow Forever: Someone an individual will never stop following on social media, even if their interests diverge. In the past, “follow forever” posts were popular on Tumblr, where an OP would make a list of other users they would never unfollow. Follow forevers have fallen out of style.

Forum: 1. A message board, usually privately owned/not connected to social media. 2. A specific type of Discord channel that bears some resemblance to how Reddit works. 3. The message board section of a large webpage that may have other functionality as well, such as the forums on Ravelry. Read more about forums.

FTM: Abbreviation for “female to male.” A way of referring to a transgender man. Some people find this term offensive, and others do not. Some transgender people use it to discuss their own gender and their transition, and others do not. Read more about the abbreviation “ftm.”

Fudanshi: A Japanese term for a man who is a fan of BL and yaoi (mlm) content. See also: fujoshi. Read more about fudanshi.

Fujo: Shortened term of “fujoshi.”

Fujoshi: A Japanese term for a woman who is a fan of BL and yaoi (mlm) content. See also: fudanshi. Read more about fujoshi.

Fursona: Refers to the name, characteristics, and physical attributes that a furry has chosen for their animal persona. See also [thing]sona. Read more about fursonas.

Fusion: Specifically in a fandom sense, fusion is used to refer to when a fanfiction or fanart combines two or more different fandoms into one shared universe. The most famous example is Superwholock, the fusion ‘verse of Supernatural, Doctor Who, and BBC Sherlock. Read more about fusion fanfiction.

Futanari : A Japanese word that is often used in fandom to describe characters with sex characteristics from both genders. This and the shortened term “futa” are, in the West, most often used to describe a genre of pornographic anime and manga. Read more about the term “futanari.”

[james-is-here]

My Only Hyung…

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

imma make myself sad but i’ll try to end this with comfort cause I just can’t make hurt/no comfort, it hurts my precious heart much to not finish without comfort. it’s also my first time writing so much detail, got carried away at the end.

[How did i just now notice the the ‘read more’ thing was on mobile?!]

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Listening to the music, the giddy feeling in his stomach took over Blue’s entire body as he jumped and squealed.

He was currently listening to his first ever album, having only published single songs, with his best friend and partner, Chan.

Happy tears threatened to fall as he settled down and wrapped his arms around the other with a chuckle. “I did it.” He murmured into the others shoulder and tightened his hold. “You did, jagi. I’m so proud.” “Thank you.” He let’s out with a laugh and pulls back, placing a small peck on the other temple.

“Thank you for helping me write my title track.” He said with a sigh. “Plus being in my first duet.” He added with a shy laugh. “You’re welcome, it sounds better then I could’ve imagined. So good!” “May I show it to the boys?” “Of course! They’ve been just as excited as me.” Blue was overwhelmed, smiling like a dork and he couldn’t resist as he leaned forward, all his feelings going into a strong, sweet kiss given to the other.

Pulling back, he placed his forehead on Chan’s and smiled. So happy at where he’s at in life.

“Thank you so much, Chrissy.” “You’re very welcome, Shawnie.”

—-

Jolting awake, Blue looks at his surroundings. He first noticed his manager in front of him, then out the window he sees his destination.

“Morning sleeping beauty.” A small smile graces his face as his manager moves out from his personal bubble. “Ready?” With a groan and a small stretch, he puts his sunglasses on and nods. “I guess.”

As he gets out of the van, he hangs his head down, a few fans gather near the vehicle as he quickly follows his bodyguard inside the venue.

Blue has been asked to perform to start off a k-pop award ceremony. He was glad to be the opening number but when he eventually saw the layout of performances, his mood flipped completely.

Stray Kids was on the list, the third performance of the evening. He should be excited, possibly getting to see his old friends again after two years but he’s nervous.

“W-Would I be able to see him again?” He asked his manager as they looked over the list. “Probably not. They got their own stuff to do tonight.” He replied, missing the part where Blue said ‘him’

His thought were cut off when he was lead to a room, his room for the evening.

“So, What song were you thinking of doing tonight? You said you’d get back to me on that.” His manager asked him as he put his bag on the couch. “I…” He hasn’t thought of that at all. “You haven’t decided?” The other asked again. “N-no, I have, I just…” He stared at the elder for a moment before mentally saying ‘Screw it!’ and answering. “The title track of my first album.”

The manager looked at him with a tilted head and a raised brow. “How come?” “Uh…” Because he’ll be there “Old times sake? It’s my most popular one, even today.” His manager accepted his excuse and nods. “Okay. I’ll let them know while you get ready.”

After he left and closed the door, Shawn sighed and sat in the makeup chair. None of his Makeup or styling staff were there yet so he relaxed and stared at the wall in front of him, thinking of nothing and everything from if he needed a quick snack to his choreography.

The title track didn’t have any dancing to start with until he saw a Live of Hyunjin free styling to his song, proceeding to go to the others and propose if they’d like to help him make a dance for it, happily agreeing.

Then it hit him like a bus. They would be in the audience, he’s performing a song co-written and choreographed by one of the best groups he’s befriended. He quickly snapped out of his zone and grabbed his phone, texting his manager.

Shawn: I want the song to be announced differently

Manager: What do you mean?

S: I want the title to be announced as a different name.

M: . . .

M: That can be done. What is the new name?

S: Stray Away

M: You sure?

S: Yes.

Shawn knew that the new title would be recognized.

—-

He stared at the managers in front of him, mouth agape and tears gathering in his eyes.

“W-We have to split? Th-that’s not fair!” “Your fames are growing and we’re not sure if your relationship can be hidden any longer. We see how connected you are but-“ Shawn’s manager looked at Chan’s then back to him. “We’re sorry.” They give a genuine look of apology then step out so they can process.

“Th-They want- break up? I-I c-can’t- I don’t-“ His hands reached up to his hair as Chan wrapped his arms around him, trying to stop the upcoming panic attack. “Hey, Hey.” Shawn wrapped his arms around the younger and held tightly as he buried his face in the others neck.

“I can’t.” He choked out, tightening his hold and fisting the others hoodie. “I can’t either but we have to.” He whispered.

They stood there in each others arms for what seemed like forever. “C-can’t we just say we did but not actually split?” “They’d find out somehow, Shawnie.” “I can’t. It feels so wrong. I-I can’t live without you, jagi, I just can’t.”

“We can do it. Just, when we do, promise me one thing.” Shawn pulled back and placed his hands on the others face, Chan leaning into it while leaning up and forward to rest his forehead on Shawn’s, his own hands raising to rest on Shawn’s “Anything, Jagi.”

“Don’t stray away from me and the boys.”

—-

He regrets leaving them behind but he still texts them.

Eventually his makeup and stylist arrived and got him ready. They styled him with blues, whites, and a little black.

“Real quick, gotta tell you something.” His manager said while slowing them down on the way to the stage. “While you were getting ready, I managed to find their manager.” He was confused but the other kept going, “We got to talking and eventually that lead to us being on a call with Jyp along with the venue leader.” His eyes widen, mouth falling open slightly. “We talked about nothing bad, i promise. We discussed two things with him and the leader, one being about you and the boys, specifically Chan but all of them were-“ “Blue, you’re up now!!” Someone yelled and he panicked.

“W-what’s the second thing?” He tried to get the answer but he was being pulled away from his manager and over to the stage. “You’ll see!! Don’t worry!!”

He was confused on what that meant but proceeded up the stairs, got help with situating his mic pack, and mentally prepared himself since he’s performing this song as a solo for the first time since the promotions of it.

When the lights dimmed after he was announced, he walked to his place and got set.

The music started and he got lost in his own world. Doing the moves beautifully and smoothly while singing.

After a move of reaching towards the ceiling, preparing to sing the other part of the duet, he goes to turn back and was expecting to ghost a hand on a backup dancers face when he first saw the dancer not wearing the face piece he himself chose for the song.

Locking eyes with the dancer, his singing faulted slightly before his line was over and the other started singing his part.

He stood there, shocked about what was happening at the moment that he was almost late on his line. His brain caught up to him as he began singing again with the other. He tried to look away, tried to be professional, tried to get back to the dancing but not even Chan was pulling away, subtly leaning closer into the hand still hovering, Shawn immediately thumbing over Chan’s cheek. They just sang, in their own little bubble until it ended and clapping snapped him out of his trance.

He smiled and bowed with Chan before walking off stage with him.

They barely made it out of the way of the stage stairs before Shawn engulfed the other in a hug, arms tightly wrapped around the shorter as his face is in his shoulder. Chan accepting it immediately, wrapping his arms around Shawn’s neck and burying his face in the soloists neck.

They stood there together for a few minutes before Shawn’s manager cleared his throat. They pulled away but the soloist kept his arms around the other. “So you told him?” Chan’s manager asks, confusion taking over the silver headed male. “No, he was being pulled to stage before I could.” “W-Was this what you planned with the venue leader?” “Yeah. How’d you like it?” “I-I was shocked. M-Maybe cause i haven’t seen him in person for two years.”

“Glad to see you liked the surprise.” His manager said, pointing out the arms still wrapped around Chan making the other pull away from out of embarrassment.

“What was the other thing? With JYP?” “Well, His members, over the years, have noticed a bit of a drop in his personality since that day we talked to you two and they voiced they’re concerns. Your staff had also noticed a shift in you and told me about it.” He explained. “We’ve been talking about it since about two weeks after you two, uh, split up. We’ve been trying to find ways to still have you two be together seeing as both of you are apart of the others personality, each others other half, inspiration, all that.”

Chan’s manager then spoke. “We talked to Chan recently after, unfortunately, months and months of talking with JYP and figuring stuff out. After talking, Chan proposed to opening a spot in Stray Kids.” Shawn’s eyes widen as the pieces click. Shawn loves being a soloist but he’s also talked in the past about wanting to be in a group, to both Chan and his manager.

“R-Really?” Chan nods. “The boys miss you, I’d also love to have my boyfriend with me all the time.” The soloists breath hitched before turning to his manager. “But-“ “You’ll be integrated into a group known for a lot of physical affection and playful interactions. Fans will just think you’re being playful with Chan, only if you play along with the others to not make it suspicious.”

He nods excitedly with a smile. “Y-Yeah, of course.” “So, Do you want to be a Stray Kid?” Chan asked and Shawn turns towards him, taking the formers left hand into his right, his left hand raising to Chan’s face as he leans in, giving the other a heart fluttering kiss that felt like their first.

If they could stay like that for longer, they would. Chan missing the way the older held him gently but tightly like he might disappear and his soft but slight chapped lips from his bad habit of biting. Shawn missed holding the other along with his soft, full lips.

It was only half a minute before he pulled back and chuckled with a sigh.

“You’ll have a hyung in your group now.” Chan sighed dreamily as he leaned more into the other and giggled, a noise Shawn was happy to hear again.

“My only Hyung.”

[corbenic]

For @pinkstarsdress

This is the second part of the follow-up to the Princess Imperial deleted scene "Garden Proposal." A full list of shared outtakes can be found here.

Note: this outtake involves Evie processing the news of a loved one’s terminal cancer diagnosis. It’s a topic I’m sensitive about after a close friend of mine died of stomach cancer, and I’ve been careful to write a story that doesn’t prick my cancer triggers—but please read with caution if cancer is a difficult subject for you

GARDEN PROPOSAL: AFTERMATH (PART TWO)

Word Count: 2,250

Summary: Evie O'Brien and her boyfriend-slash-maybe-fiancé, The Prince Imperial, discuss marriage with his parents. Evie drowns her feelings in baked goods.

Written: autumn 2022

Context: an early chapter two draft of my novel The Bonaparte Bride before I decided to publish it as Princess Imperial the website

Deviations from canon: the timeline (Julien proposes in October 2023 rather than March 2023), character ages and birth order, Julien's parents are more involved in his life

The Emperor leads us back into the hallway of doors. He opens one. We walk inside.

The overhead light blazes to life, casting the entire room in an eerie white glow. I haven’t visited Julien’s library in months. The walls are paneled with shelves, which are filled with books and photo frames. The pictures themselves are a motley assortment: family photos, landscapes from across the globe, bygone skiing trips, and me.

“Please,” His Imperial Majesty says. “Sit.”

Julien tugs me toward the brown leather sofa on the other side of the room, with its back to a window. We sit down.

The Emperor remains standing. In any other context, this would be a horrible breach of etiquette. If the Emperor or Empress—or, purists insist, The Prince Imperial—stands, you should too. Fortunately, the Bonapartes discard most formalities like that among themselves.

“What happened?” The Emperor asks.

“What did Julien tell you?”

Julien looks at me. “I said the details were yours to share, not mine.”

I stifle a sigh. “My mother has cancer.”

The Emperor nods. “I know.”

Of course he does. Since I was in the same academic program as Jo, the Imperial Guard assembled a dossier on me once I was accepted to the École Normale Supérieure. It’s been regularly updated since. Even if it hadn’t been, I know the subject has come up in conversation with the Bonaparte family before.

“She recently had more tests done. The results came in today. She called me before dinner to share the news.”

I stop speaking to blink back tears. I don’t want to cry again tonight. Not in front of the Emperor.

“I asked about Madame O’Brien while we were dancing, and I shouldn’t have,” Julien pipes up.

The tears keep coming. Damn it.

“Let me guess,” His Imperial Majesty says. “The prognosis looks bad. Evie started crying. In the moment, with so many eyes on the two of you, it was too much to handle, so she ran.”

I nod, then wipe my eyes on the sweater. It’s a good thing Stéphanie isn’t here. She would call out my unladylike behavior. Well-mannered women don’t wipe their eyes on anything other than a tissue or handkerchief.

Julien squeezes my hand, as if to say that everything will be all right. “I went after her, and—”

The door slams open, and the Empress of the French sweeps into the room. Like her husband, she is still dressed for the party. Her dress appears inky black in this light. She looks me over, eyebrows rising higher and higher as she takes in my exposed legs, bedraggled hair, and borrowed sweater.

“—I proposed,” Julien finishes.

The Empress sinks into the nearest chair. I’ve made that mistake before. The chair is painted a cheery yellow, with a matching gingham cushion. The padding provides as much comfort as a worn-out baby blanket. The wooden back is just high enough to dig into the hollow beneath my shoulder blades. Her Imperial Majesty is tall enough that she won’t have that problem, though.

“Finally.” She taps her manicured nails against the chair’s wooden arm. “It will be difficult, but we can salvage this. The course of true love never did run smooth, so on and so forth.”

Julien and I exchange a look. “Maman, you missed some important context.”

“Nonsense. I can hear the story after Stéphanie figures out how to spin it. We can’t risk circulating multiple versions of the proposal.”

“We’re not engaged,” I say.

Both the Emperor and the Empress stare blankly at me.

I shift uncomfortably. “Also, the doctors say my mother will be dead within a year.”

“You refused Julien’s offer?” The Empress asks.

“There was a cultural misunderstanding,” Julien quickly clarifies. “My proposal has been neither rejected nor accepted.”

The Emperor says something in a language I don’t speak. His wife replies in that same language. They continue that way for a minute or two, volleying comments back and forth like shuttlecocks over a net.

Eventually, the Emperor takes a seat in the chair closest to his wife. He fidgets with his wedding ring. “We’re sorry to hear about your mother, Evie. That’s terrible news.”

“Perhaps,” the Empress says, “we should leak this to the press.”

“No,” Julien and I say in unison.

“Why would we give reporters any more ammunition to be cruel?” Julien asks.

“We control the narrative if we do.”

I splutter incoherently.

Her Imperial Majesty ignores me. “Think about it. Love triumphing in the face of tragedy is a compelling story. The public will take pity on Evie. This, coupled with her joie de vivre and your work ethic, will win them over. Any, shall we say, idiosyncracies—such as tonight’s events—will be forgiven.”

“My family are private citizens. Mom’s medical history should stay secret.”

The Empress shakes her head and tsks. “It’s impossible, darling. Nothing in our world stays secret for long.”

“You don’t get it.” My hands are shaking again. “You’re a princess by birth. Your family has to live in the public eye. Mine doesn’t. They don’t speak French. They’ve only met Julien a few times. They avoid going downtown because tourists are annoying! They don’t know anything about the press, or the paparazzi, or… or…”

The Emperor places a hand on his wife’s knee. “We should revisit this topic in the morning. Stéphanie may have an idea of how to handle it.”

TUILERIES PALACE

PARIS, ÎLE DE FRANCE, FRANCE

OCTOBER 21

It’s still dark outside when I wake up. I check my phone, blinking blearily at the bright light. It is 4:45 in the morning. I groan and roll over. For long minutes, I stay there, listening to Julien’s even breathing. It’s no use. I can’t fall back asleep.

I leave the warm bed and plod back into the hallway, through the nearly-invisible door into the sitting room. The formal dining room lies beyond. An austere oblong wooden table and matching chairs rest in the middle of the room. The hardwood floor is chilly against my feet. I search the wall for the ornate paneling disguising the entrance to the kitchen. I find it, push, and step through the threshold.

When I was a teenager, most of my friends planned their wedding. Others threw themselves into sports. I tore through design magazines, imagining my dream kitchen.

This is close to what my seventeen-year-old self wanted: white walls, turquoise cabinets, and—best of all—a classic Lacanche range. French stoves are some of the best in the world. They have the price tag to match. My parents remodeled their kitchen last year, and I tried persuading them to buy one. They refused. Too expensive.

I start opening cabinets and drawers. I can never remember where the baking essentials are. Even if he were awake, Julien couldn’t tell me. He has never learned how to cook. I’ve offered to teach him, but he’s not interested.

As you’d expect from the home of someone who champions traditional craftsmanship, every single piece of cookware or tableware is from a historic French brand. It’s obvious which pieces Julien selected. Intricately patterned plates: the interior designer. Minimalist glassware: Julien. Eggplant-colored pie pans: the interior designer. Classic white baking dishes: Julien.

The fridge is stocked with a dozen different cheeses. Plus grapes and tomatoes. And foie gras. Also butter and milk. The eggs sit on a nearby countertop. French eggs, unlike American ones, don’t need to be refrigerated. I’ve lived here for four years and still find it strange.

I pull up my favorite yellow cake recipe on my phone. I’ve made it at least a hundred times. If I were at my parents’ house, I could make it from memory. Unfortunately, I can’t convert cups and ounces to grams and liters off the top of my head, so I am reliant on the annotated photo.

Mixing the cake is satisfying. I whip up the chocolate frosting while the cake bakes and stash it in the refrigerator. I also check for fresh fruit. Strawberries would pair well with this. They’re out of season, but Julien can easily afford them year-round. He receives five million francs from the civil list every year. This is a living stipend, designed to cover the personal expenses of the Prince Imperial, his wife, and his children. Unfortunately for me, he’s decided not to spend it on out-of-season fruits.

However, the pantry is stocked with chocolate chips. Maybe the discussion with Stéphanie and Julien’s parents will go better if I provide breakfast. I had planned to make a spinach, ham, and tomato omelette, but muffins seem like a good idea. I can share those.

A while later, the door opens. It’s Julien. Frustratingly, his hair is still perfect. His eyes go wide. “How long have you been awake?”

I check the clock. “Two and a half hours.”

“Go back to bed.”

“I can’t. Muffins are baking. Do you know when your parents and Stéphanie will arrive?”

“After you sleep.” He walks up behind me and puts his arms around my waist, pulling me close. He nuzzles his nose against my neck.

“Can you get the frosting out of the refrigerator? The cake is cool enough to assemble.”

“There’s cake, too?” He fetches the frosting and sets it on the counter. He then turns his attention to the cooling racks. “I count three dozen muffins. What army are we feeding?”

“You and me. Your parents. Stéphanie. Vincent. The four new guards whose names I keep forgetting. Hugo. Your parents’ private secretaries and PR specialists. The Countess Mimerel, as an apology for last night. Also your sisters, because they might feel left out. And Fiona, if she’s here.”

Julien counts on his fingers as I reel off the list. When I’m done, he says, “That’s twenty people. At that point, you’re better off sending a note to the kitchens asking if they’d be able to cook breakfast for everyone.”

I gasp. “I forgot about Françoise!”

“She is a professional chef. I promise she can feed herself.”

“Yes, but—” I reach for the frosting, but Julien moves the bowl out of reach.

“I can do this. You need to sleep.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “I don’t trust you in the kitchen.”

“I can manage to decorate a cake and take muffins out of the oven.”

“I don’t need your help. I am handling this just fine on my own.”

He takes the covering off the frosting, dips his little finger in, and tastes it. “Have you tried this yet?”

“Best frosting ever, right?”

He pushes the bowl toward me. “Eat some.”

“This is for the cake, not for snacking.”

He pushes it closer. I shoot him an annoyed look and sample the frosting. The moment it touches my tongue, I know exactly what the problem is. I didn’t add the sugar.

I turn around. I can see the containers for flour, salt, baking powder, oil, eggs, milk, butter, and vanilla. No sugar.

I forgot the sugar.

At that precise moment, the oven timer beeps. The muffins are done.

Behind me, Julien grabs oven mitts and retrieves the muffins. He doesn’t check if they’re fully cooked. Not that it matters. They’re sugarless and therefore disgusting. He turns off the oven.

“When I wake up,” I say, “remind me to reorganize the pantry.”

I don’t wait for his response before accepting defeat and going back to bed.

Warm afternoon light pours into the room and tangles in the gauzy canopy overhead. I am cocooned in sheets and blankets. Various pillows are arranged in a semicircle near my head. Instinctively, I reach for Julien. He’s not there. Instead, a small paper has been left on his side of the bed.

Don’t worry about the meeting with my parents and Stéphanie. We unanimously decided to postpone it until tomorrow. Françoise has agreed to make breakfast. Stéphanie sends her best wishes to you and your family.

The story circulating among staff—and hopefully in the papers—is that you’re suffering from a stomach bug. Françoise stocked the kitchen with sixteen different types of tea, and recommends the lemon ginger.

—J

I set the note back on the bed and sigh.

The door creaks open. I sit up. It’s Julien, of course.

He wears his usual gray suit. Today, he’s paired it with a jaunty lavender tie. “Did I wake you up?”

“No,” I lie. “What time is it?”

“Just after three.”

I swear under my breath. So much for reorganizing the pantry today.

Julien sits down next to me and smooths my hair. “How are you feeling?”

I shrug. My mother is dying. My boyfriend proposed. I have been hit by a semi-truck of emotions in the past twenty-four hours. “I’m not tired and not cold, so I think I’m okay.”

“Just okay?”

I nod. “Best I can ask for under the circumstances.”

He brushes his fingertips across my face, tracing the curves of my cheeks and nose and eyebrows. “We could go to Coppélia another night, if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“We’re going tonight.” There’s no other good moment. I’ll be in Greece for an entire week. We will both be in Paris for a few days before Julien flies to Italy. Unfortunately, I will almost certainly be working late. Things are always hectic in the days before an auction.

“Your health and happiness are more important to me than a ballet.”

“We haven’t had a date night in almost a month. We are going.”

“I will insist on a single change to the itinerary.”

I raise an eyebrow.

He grins. “We’re getting sushi for dinner.”

[ntls-24722]

hello 👋

I want to ask about Carman he seem like a very nice guy very wise and if I’m not mistaken, he is in love with the back rooms and technically in love with some thing in there I just really don’t understand everything about him

so would you please mind tell us more about Carmen?

love your art

You are right on that! and, Thank you!! 💖💕

So just, brief overview of Cameron and Miguel(The Backrooms) since a lot of the info is in a big big reblog chain

Cameron is indeed nice and wise, though his outward personality depends on where you find him. In our reality, he's very quiet and keeps to himself, and although he is still kind he's not half as loud and playful and extraverted as he is inside of the backrooms because the place really does give him a sense of childlike wonder that makes him come out of his shell like nothing else does. You asked specifically about Cameron but I think his character is straightforward, his relationship is a bit odd and I think that's what you meant

He is in love with the backrooms, but not something inside of there. He is in love with the various places, the entire plane of existance. By extension, yes, that includes everything in it, but he is not in love with one specific object. The entire backrooms is "alive" (it is inorganic but it has thoughts and emotions), but it has no living things inside of it. No entities or anything like that - the only entities within the Backrooms is the Backrooms itself and anyone who gets stuck inside of it.

While it cannot directly speak to Cameron, the backrooms can communicate to him by making things like written notes or objects appear inside of itself, which is how it confessed that it loved Cameron back. Cameron named it "Miguel" and called it by she/her (the opposing masculinity and femininity made it androgynous in his mind) and the backrooms doesn't care what it's called, so "Miguel" worked just fine.

After a while, he proposed to and "married" Miguel via putting a ring on the floor.

Miguel was overjoyed, not like she could really show it, but, she was as happy-looking as a bunch of walls can look.

(weirdly enough, even though Miguel has thousands of levels, I always imagine Miguel as a bunch of houses on hills. Cameron generally goes to very whimsical and nicer levels and I guess the rolling hills level could just be the "go-to" that Miguel chooses, but there's way more than just that)

There's a bunch of other stuff with the backrooms in here, like how instead of a neverending maze there's just singular levels people get stuck in each time they end up inside, and how a lot of things don't make sense inside of there, and if you meant to ask that, I could go into detail, but that's generally what's going on with these 2.

[gamebunny-advance]

The Disappearance of Kul Fyra (Theory)

(Skip to the Read More to start the theory.)

This was originally a response to someone else's theory/headcanon that they left on one of my posts, but after what happened the last time I tried to engage someone in a theory, I've decided to just post my response on its own without tagging the person.

I'm just... tired of accidentally making people feel bad because they take me disagreeing with them too personally. But, I still like the theory/headcanons I made in the end, so I still want this out there.

I'm sure if that person really cares about my response, then they'll find this post on their own time, and those of you that care about what this is a response to will likewise just click the link and look through the reblogs.

So yeah, that's why this post is written like I'm talking to someone: because I originally was. But even if y'all don't wanna do the extra footwork of finding the original theory, I think you can figure out what I'm responding to through context.

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

Whoo, time for some good old' theory debating~ Haven't done one of those in a while.

This is an interesting theory, but you are jumping through some real hoops and over some sharks to get there friend, so I'm sorry to say that most of your points just aren't sticking for me. >A<;.

So, I'm gonna offer my counterarguments~

Firstly, I cannot ignore how you're just wrong about the characters' skin color.

I don't know where you're getting that Tatiana is a "slate gray" unless you're talking about a totally different color.

(DuckDuckGo search for "slate gray")

Tatiana is white. Maybe not a pure #FFFFFF, but certainly not "slate gray."

(Tatiana's Briefing Profile)

But, even if you don't want to say she's "white" because she isn't #FFFFFF, Kliff under NO circumstance has lighter skin than Tatiana.

I know that I just made a post joking about how he's "WHITE 🫵," but he still has *some* color to him.

(Tatiana, Kliff, and the photo desaturated)

He's still obviously light skinned, but he's still a little darker than the literally white Tatiana. The only reason she isn't pure white is that she would lose a lot of dimension and detail if she was, so she's shaded a little more harshly than other characters. But it's still just shadow, not her actual skin.

The point is: I cannot fathom how you can think the figure in the middle of the signed photo is too pale to be Tatiana, but somehow pale enough to be Kliff. It's just contradictory. But since your entire theory depends on the idea that the middle figure resembles Kliff more than Tatiana, I can't ignore it, and the entire theory falls apart for me.

However, if we put that to the side, there are still interesting things to talk about the theory.

I have also wondered how literally no one in the entire city besides Kliff seems to know that Tatiana was Kul Fyra. But, I propose that Tatiana used her power as NSR's CEO to erase that part of her history.

We witness first-hand how NSR uses propaganda and otherwise manipulates the media to be in their favor, so it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine that Tatiana would have done everything in her power to erase her ties to The Goolings once she got into power. This would be especially easy to do if she already kept her private life and stage persona separate, like you suggested. (Though, I still don't think she'd be so secretive as to *never* appear in photos).

The way Barbara talks about Tatiana implies that she knows that Tatiana has had some experience in the music industry before NSR, but doesn't know the exact capacity. So, it would appear that Tatiana was mostly successful in burying her identity as Kul Fyra, but anyone who digs into it will find that the story isn't complete.

With that in mind, it's not unlikely that Mayday wouldn't make the connection either, simply because she doesn't have access to the information (and let's be honest, she's kinda stupid). She became a fan after The Goolings had already disbanded and after the hypothetical cover-up, so she wouldn't be able to learn anything that wasn't public knowledge.

It could also be that Tatiana has just changed so much since that time, that younger pictures of herself don't have an obvious resemblance to her current self. Mayday never saw The Goolings live, so she wouldn't know exactly what Kul Fyra looked like. It's even established early on that Mayday has a hard time recognizing people from photos in reality, given that she doesn't recognize Kliff when meeting him for the first time, despite him apparently sending a photo of himself with his message.

However, her first guess about Tatiana's identity is Kul Fyra's mom, so Mayday must see some resemblance, but can't fully believe that they would be the same person without direct confirmation.

For why Kliff knows about it, in his own words, "Everyone turned their backs on you when The Goolings disbanded, but I stood with you." This implies that he was close to Tatiana even after the breakup. It's very possible that this is the real reason she hates him: because he kept trying to drag her back to her past failures that she was trying to escape.

Additionally, none of the other characters we meet ever describe themselves as fans of rock. Most of B2J's supporters that aren't Kliff support them because they do something else to earn it: they give Zam a place to run his radio show, Gigi disagrees with the injustice at the Lights Up Auditions, and Robot appears to just be friendly. They do convince Yiruk to start a career in rock, but it's obvious that he didn't start with an appreciation for the genre. Also, given the additional evidence from the Ex-Jay poster in Akusuka that rock was already dying in Vinyl City before that point, it's clear that there just weren't that many fans or performers of rock left in the city. Thus, there weren't many people left who would care enough about The Goolings to know the truth, let alone people that were also in a position to reveal that information. So while at first, it might seem strange that only one person in the entire city seems to know the truth about Tatiana/Kul Fyra, there's actually a lot of evidence that Kliff truly is one of the last people in the city that could possibly have that information and use it against her.

As for the photo itself, I also don't think Tatiana really looks like the figure in the center, but none of the people in the photo look like the same people from the Goolings poster.

(The Goolings Poster and The Goolings Photo)

Granted, the photo appears to be in sepia and both are somewhat abstract, so the colors and designs probably aren't going to be 1:1. But just the style of the hair is what stands out the most as being inaccurate. That said, I've always interpreted the photo to be The Goolings "off-stage" where they're in more casual clothes/hair. We know that Tatiana can turn her fire off, so her natural skin color might have always been white, and later her hair started as another color (likely red) and turned white with age.

Then for whom the photo belongs to, it could just be Aunty's. If we follow the theory that the photo is of the "off-stage" Goolings, then it's possible that the photo was actually taken and signed in Aunty's shop when the band was having a lunch break or something. There are plenty of places that will take pictures of the famous people that visit and display them as a sign of prestige without actually being invested in the person.

This would explain why Aunty doesn't seem to have any special dialogue regarding The Goolings despite having a signed picture of them and (probably) knowing that Mayday is also a fan. Although she's genuinely nice and supportive, Aunty is also using B2J's popularity to increase sales by introducing new menu items named after them, so she's not above using the fame of her customers to boost her shop. She may have been a legit fan of The Goolings, but just not to the same extent as Mayday or Kliff. She might not have been invested enough to know what happened after the Goolings disbanded.

Finally, this post is very old. I posted it only 5 months after the game came out and information was still coming out from data miners and the devs. I know now that the signatures aren't supposed to be "real." I know that NSR has some pretty tight world building and lots of little extra details, but the signatures are officially not one of the things with a lot of thought behind them. They're just symbols designed to resemble a signature because if one of them is obviously a real character's name, then that opens up all the others for interpretation, and the devs wanted to leave that kind of thing open-ended. It's the same for the 1010 signatures: no "signature" in this game has a special meaning or is supposed to resemble a real word/name, and that is confirmed by the devs. So the signatures probably belong to Kul Fyra and the other 3 members, but it doesn't matter which one is which, and it would be impossible to figure it out.

Anyway, after all that, I think there being a secret 5th member of The Goolings that's actually Kliff's relative is cool, but I just don't think your theory as you've written it supports the idea strongly enough for me to personally believe it.

But, there's nothing wrong with having a headcanon that doesn't fit into the actual canon. Even everything I've said is just speculation based on my interpretation of the game. If what you said was your honest interpretation of things, then I can't really take that away from you or change your mind.

[mygif2u]

Another Life

Pairing: MaryAnna Character(s): Mary Crawley/Anna Smith Rating: G Warnings/Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Time Travel

Anna did not know what kind of sorcery had been cast upon her to not only switch the lives of herself and Lady Mary, but to also send her back in time, but Anna knew that something must have happened to cause this. And, as impossible as it sounded, whatever that something was would need to happen again if Anna was to have any hope of going back to her old life.

Read it below, or on AO3.

A/N: Written for an exchange; based on the prompt for a Lady!Anna x Lady’sMaid!Mary AU, which caught my eye immediately (and in hindsight it’s such a glaringly obvious prompt I’m surprised no-one has done it for this ship before - so this is my take on it!) It is such a good idea, I think I may revisit/expand on it in the future. Given the time crunch for this piece though, I think this is the best I can give it for now.

I haven’t watched the show in ages, and stopped watching around Season 3, so apologies if certain details are missing or inaccurate. It is being assumed in this fic that the whole household (family and staff) are aware of a possible match being made between Mary and Patrick (if I remember right, this was a secret in the show’s canon.) This has been set pre-series/first episode of Season 1 (so we are really taking it back.)

Un beta-d so any mistakes are my own.

Enjoy!

**

The first thing that told Anna something was wrong was the sound of curtains squeaking along metal rails. The next was when she opened her eyes and saw that the room she was in was not the room she went to sleep in the night before. The thing that convinced her that something was thoroughly, completely, and utterly wrong, though, was when Lady Mary swept into view, dressed in her uniform, and greeted her with a warm smile.

“Good morning, Lady Anna.”

Anna remained still in her bed – which was not her bed, she realised with a dawning horror – and tried to tamp down on her growing panic. She was in Lady Mary’s room, in Lady Mary’s bed, and Lady Mary herself was referring to her as “Lady Anna” instead of simply as “Anna.” Perhaps, no, surely she must still be asleep?

Anna shut her eyes tightly, waited for the image of Lady Mary’s room to disappear from her mind along with her sight, and opened her eyes again, only to find that Lady Mary was still there, and her previously warm countenance had morphed into concern.

“My Lady?”

Anna blinked up at her.

“Is everything alright?”

Anna didn’t know what to say to her. Nothing was alright – her world had been turned on its head over night, and she hadn’t the foggiest idea how or why. She gaped up at Mary, trying to form an answer that didn’t make her sound completely mad.

“I...I just feel a little unwell, is all,” Anna replied haltingly.

Lady Mary’s concern faded slightly, and she gave Anna a gentle smile. It was a look so familiar to Anna that it calmed her briefly – it was a look that was a rare gift from Lady Mary, one she gave to so few. Anna counted herself fortunate to be one of the only people to be treated to it.

“It’s alright to be nervous.”

Anna frowned. Nervous was not the term she would use for whatever was happening here – world-shattering, mind-bending, life-altering, perhaps. But nervous? No, not quite.

“Even if you have known your future husband your entire life, a proposal from him is still quite a momentous occasion.”

Anna’s mind reeled at the words husband and proposal. She barely noticed Lady Mary stride to the other side of the room to set out her clothes for the morning – clothes that usually Anna brought out for her.

“A – a proposal?”

Lady Mary looked back at Anna.

“Well, it’s never a sure thing until he asks you the question, my Lady, but everyone has been anticipating that Mr Patrick’s visit this afternoon is when you will make your engagement official.”

Anna gripped the sheets of her – Lady Mary’s – bed as the words spoken to her sent her mind from a downward spiral into a complete freefall. Mr Patrick? The original heir of Downton, long thought to have perished in the icy waters of the Atlantic, not only lived, but was “anticipated” to be her husband?

If there had been any doubt of the utter wrongness of her situation before, it was completely gone now.

Anna did not know what kind of sorcery had been cast upon her to not only switch the lives of herself and Lady Mary, but to also send her back in time, but Anna knew that something must have happened to cause this. And, as impossible as it sounded, whatever that something was would need to happen again if Anna was to have any hope of going back to her old life.

“We really should get you dressed, my lady, or you’ll miss breakfast.”

The only way that was going to happen, though, was if Anna could get answers. And the only way Anna was going to be able to do that was learn as much as she could about this new life.

“Oh, yes, that – that would be a good idea.”

Anna untangled herself from the bed, trying not to trip on the bedsheets in her haste to get out, and almost ran into Lady Mary.

“Oh La – I mean, Mary, I’m so sorry!”

Lady Mary’s hands closed around Anna’s shoulders to steady her, and Anna noted the firm grip she had on her. It was different to the way Lady Mary – and really, until things righted themselves again, she should start to refer to her as “Mary” – usually touched her. There was a surety there that Anna was not used to, given that the other woman was sparing with her touch, but Anna found this trait in this ‘new’ Mary one she welcomed greatly.

“It’s quite alright, my Lady.”

Anna found herself looking up to meet Mary’s gaze and saw a disarmingly familiar fondness on the other woman’s face. It made Anna freeze in place and her breath catch.

“Ah, thank you.”

Mary kept a hold of her for a moment, regarding Anna silently before nodding and releasing her to fetch something else.

Anna let out a quiet breath as she realised what she would have to do next.

Heat rose in her cheeks as she started to undress, working the shift that she had worn during the night – which was far nicer than the ones that she usually wore to bed – over her head. It was an utterly bizarre feeling; she had seen her Mary – Lady Mary – in all manners of dress (and undress), and it never affected her. Anna could admit that her mistress was blessed with great beauty, however that fact did not stop her from keeping a steady head during her duties. This Mary – assuming she was as close to the Lady Anna of this new world as House Maid Anna was to the Mary of the other world – would no doubt have also seen her Lady Anna in all states of dress. So what did Anna have to worry about?

Anna placed the night shift on the bed, and was immediately draped in fabric again, this time in the dress Mary had chosen for her. Anna tried not to shiver as Mary smoothed the material of the dress along her shoulders. The touch was, again, not something Anna was used to from her Mary, and she found herself responding more enthusiastically than she ought to. For this Mary, such touches would be routine and automatic, and it would be best for Anna if she thought of this the exact same way. So Anna tried to distract herself by looking at her reflection in the mirror.

While she didn’t envy Mary her wealth, she had wondered once or twice what being in Mary’s position would be like. Seeing herself in Mary’s dress (although, Anna realised, it couldn’t be her Mary’s dress at all, as this one fit her body perfectly, and if it had, in fact, been exactly like Mary’s dress from the old world, the dress would have almost certainly dwarfed Anna’s shorter frame, given Mary’s slightly taller stature). It was an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome thing.

Mary then lead Anna over to her vanity, and set aside the earrings and necklace Anna would wear. Anna ran her fingers over an earring, one of a pair she would pick for Mary herself, before putting both of them in. She then stayed frozen as Mary stepped up from behind her to place the necklace around Anna’s neck. Anna tried to remain impassive as Mary’s breath puffed against the back of her neck, lifting the wisps of hair there. She watched Mary place the necklace carefully around her neck, and felt the slight brush of her fingers as she closed the clasp.

“There.”

Mary smiled at Anna in the mirror.

“Now he’ll have to say yes.”

Anna felt her stomach turn at Mary’s words. This was not a fantasy that her mind had conjured up, this was her very real new life. And if she wanted to return to her old one, with everything she knew and was familiar with, she could not forget that fact.

“Quite right, Mary.”

**

Cousin Patrick’s visit turned out to be far less eventful than Anna expected; while the whole household seemed to wait at attention for the entirety of the visit, Anna’s interactions with the gentleman himself were far more casual. They had luncheon, where the Crawleys relayed news Mr – Cousin – Patrick had yet to be privy to, and who in turn relayed news about visiting America in May. After the luncheon, when the family had parted ways, Cousin Patrick had taken Anna for a turn around the gardens, where he spoke candidly about the engagement. He needed to finish some business in America before he could do anything about marriage. Their engagement would therefore be tentative, but not official.

No proposal had been issued, and no ring was offered, to the great disappointment of the Crawleys. For Anna though, that brought with it conflicting feelings of relief and guilt. It confirmed what she had already suspected about the true events surrounding Mr Patrick and Lady Mary’s engagement; that it had not been formalised before Mr Patrick’s untimely end aboard the Titanic. It was, however, a guilt-laden experience for Anna, as she realised that this was likely the last time anyone at Downton would ever see Mr Patrick again, and that the reason she could know with certainty that she would not have to marry him was precisely because of that fact. And so while it was an almost earth shifting difference in experience to spend the day strolling through the estate as opposed to fluffing pillows and ironing bed linens, Anna did her best to be hospitable to Mr Patrick and extend what kindness she could to him.

It crossed her mind to try to warn him about his impending doom, and she had done so to no avail. Mr Patrick reassured her that his plans were for a month later than Titanic’s maiden voyage, and even if he did choose to sail at that time they would make the passage safely, as “nothing would be able to sink that ship.”

When Mary had dressed her for bed that night and tried to console her out of her morose mood by reassuring her that while the day did not end with a proposal, it was not a refusal either, Anna did not have the heart to correct her on the real reason for her glum state.

**

Months passed after that fateful day. Anna slowly adapted to her new life, and while there were things that still jarred her, such as understanding her relationships with the Crawleys as family members as opposed to employers, she was able to go about her day to day life with less trouble. It could rattle Anna’s nerves on occasion, when she would act a little too formally with one of the Crawleys, or too casually with one of the household staff, but otherwise she was able to take it all (mostly) in stride. At the very least, she was certainly enjoying the luxury of being able to sleep past six in the mornings.

It was the bond with Mary that Anna truly felt the difference in however; Lady Mary had few friends to speak of in the old world, and even fewer true friends. Having now spent time living the life of her Mary, she could truly grasp just how isolating it was. Being the eldest of the household, having Edith snipe at her every chance she could get (which Anna did her best not to rise to) and keeping an eye on Sybil, all while partaking in the activities of the social season, was far more taxing than Anna had ever given Lady Mary credit for.

It helped Anna appreciate the Lady Mary she had known even more than she already had before, and made the bond she shared with this world’s Mary all the more treasured. For it was this Mary whom Anna could say was her truest friend in this world. It made her wonder if this was what her Mary of the old world thought of their bond.

The months Anna spent as Lady Crawley was enlightening to say the least, however Anna was still no closer to knowing how to get back to her old life. That issue was brought to a head when the day that Anna had been dreading finally eventuated; the day when it was reported that the Titanic was lost to the depths of the ocean, with Cousin Patrick along with it.

“Mr Patrick might not have been onboard, my Lady.”

“Papa told me he had changed his plans.” As I knew he would, Anna thought grimly. “His name, along with Cousin James were on the passenger list.”

Mary pursed her lips in sympathy as she styled Anna’s hair for the evening, but remained silent. That was one thing that had remained the same between them; the Anna and Lady Mary of the old world would offer optimism and encouragement in the face of trouble, but not to the point of offering false hope. It was a small wonder that of all the things that could stay the same, it was their closeness that had remained. It buoyed Anna, and gave her hope she would find the answer she was seeking.

**

The epiphany came to Anna soon after that. Spurred on by the murmurings of a new heir to Downton that could safeguard both Lady Grantham’s fortune and the estate, Anna realised something incredibly important.

She couldn’t believe it had taken so long for her to realise it, but when she did, it seemed so obvious that she wondered how she had missed it.

Everyone from Anna’s old life had occupied the same roles as they did in this life – the only people who had undergone any change at all were herself and Mary. That was a fact that had struck Anna as particularly odd. What possible reason would a divine force – and Anna could not fathom anything but a divine force being at play at this point – have intended to affect just the two of them.

The more she thought about it, the more puzzling it became. There was still no obvious rhyme or reason as to why they were in this world, but Anna’s realisation was a big clue. Anna wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but clearly it had something to do with her and Mary.

But what it could it be? Nothing had been amiss between herself and Mary before they had woken up to this topsy-turvy world they now inhabited. In fact the only thing that could explain it was…

But no.

Surely, no.

It couldn’t be.

And yet, Anna didn’t have any other explanation for it.

There were no other options, and time was marching on.

If Anna didn’t explore this, they could be condemned to living this bizarre existence until the end of their days.

As much as Anna had grown used to this new life, and seeing this other side of Mary, Anna had always known (hoped) that it would not be permanent.

It seemed almost selfish on the surface when Anna first thought it, but ultimately it would be best for them all if Anna proceeded with it.

That is, if it worked.

And if it didn’t, she hoped Mary would forgive her.

**

It was getting into the later hours of the evening after everyone had retired, and Mary was helping her get ready for bed when Anna decided to attempt what had been on her mind all day.

“Is there anything else you need from me, my lady?”

Anna turned to look at Mary; sweet, lovely Mary – guarded and stoic like the Mary from her world, and yet almost tender when it was just her and Anna.

Anna’s heart trembled at what she was about to do, but she had to do it now or she would never have the nerve.

“Yes, there is one other thing I need from you, Mary.”

Mary nodded and waited silently.

Anna looked away, steeling herself for what she was about to say. “I must confess that this is something that has been troubling me for quite some time.”

“Oh. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Anna quirked her mouth at that – the eagerness in Mary to help at a moment’s notice was usually heartening. This time, though, it made it all the more difficult for Anna to continue.

“It is incredibly selfish of me to ask this but -” Anna looked up to face Mary then, who was looking at her with the same concern Anna had seen that fateful morning, when she had first woken up in this new world. As pleasant as pulling teeth this experience might be for Anna, Mary needed to see the sincerity behind Anna’s words.

“You mean so much to me, Mary – more than I can put into words.”

And then, before her courage could fail her, Anna uttered more quietly, almost breathlessly, “More than a mistress should care for her servant.”

Mary grew very still at Anna’s confession, and Anna felt like her chest was going to cave in on itself. The air in the room suddenly felt too thick, and breathing now felt like agony. Anna needed to salvage this, quickly.

“I’m so sorry to put you into this difficult situation -”

Anna’s words were cut off by a hand sliding into hers. Anna looked up at Mary, utterly thrown by the other woman’s sudden proximity. It was as though she had blinked and Mary had materialised before her from the other side of the room.

If breathing had been difficult before, it became almost impossible as Mary pinned Anna in place with a burning gaze that made Anna shiver.

“If what you are saying is true, my la – Anna,” Mary said softly, “Then I would be the happiest woman in the world.”

Anna let out a shuddering breath. The hardest part had been done, and Mary was still here, still holding her hand, still -

Moving towards her.

Closer, closer, just about to erase the distance completely between them, when Anna turned away. The puff of Mary’s shaky exhale brushed her cheek. Mary made to pull away, to retreat, but Anna held her fast. She couldn’t allow Mary to believe this was rejection.

“If you do this, it cannot be because I, as your mistress, desire it.”

The anguish that had tinged Mary’s gaze faded and was replaced with a renewed resolve. She drew close once more, a hair’s breadth apart from Anna and said, “If I do this, then you cannot accept it as a servant fulfilling her duty.”

The last of Anna’s hesitance fell away then, and she surged forward, dissolving the last of that aching distance to finally, finally, press her lips to Mary’s. Soft, so soft, and so right. Anna reached up to caress Mary’s cheek and jaw, sighing as they moved against each other. Anna could never understand people’s perception of Mary being a cold unfeeling figure, when the reality was that she was gentle, yielding, and so full of warmth and life, the heat of her thrumming under Anna’s touch. It was enough to make Anna’s head spin.

When they broke apart, the spinning didn’t stop.

Anna gripped at Mary’s shoulders, trying to ground herself as the spinning worsened. Her mind was growing foggy and heavy, and Anna was struggling to keep her eyes open.

“Mary, do you –?”

“Anna, I feel –”

Anna found herself slumping forward, further into Mary, who didn’t stop her.

She had sunk to the floor, and Anna soon found herself joining her, the fog in her mind completely taking over.

The last thing Anna saw were Mary’s lips moving to say her name.

“Anna...”

**

It felt like an eternity when Anna finally woke up, and another, smaller, eternity for her to orient herself in the waking world.

When she stirred, she heard a quiet, rhythmic breathing not far from her. Upon opening her eyes, Anna saw the burning red of Gwen’s hair, spilled out on the pillow of the bed across from Anna’s.

Anna remained frozen in her bed – it was her bed – and thought back to the dream she had the night before.

It had felt so real. A life so different, yet so similar to the one she had in her waking moments. One where she and Lady Mary had –

No.

It was just a dream.

Anna sat up as she heard the distant sounds of Mrs Patmore and Daisy already in the throes of the morning work. A quick glance at the bedside clock told Anna there was no time for a snooze before it would ring anyway. Time for her to start the day.

**

The first few hours passed in a blur – after being at Downton for so long, Anna could complete her duties without a second thought. Which was fortunate, as she found herself utterly preoccupied with thoughts of the previous night’s dreams.

There were little details that stayed in her mind, so strong that Anna couldn’t shake the feeling that they were things she had lived rather than dreamed. It unsettled her to feel like she had knowledge of things a woman of her class shouldn’t know – like what the cakes Mrs Patmore was making for tea really tasted like, how smooth the silk dresses the Ladys of the house wore felt draped over her skin, how it felt to have someone else run their fingers through her hair so she could be ready for a special occasion.

No dream she had ever had in the past had been so vivid, had remained in her memory so long after waking.

The bell ringing below Lady Mary’s name brought her out of those thoughts, and she hastened to push them out of her mind. Her Lady needed her, and Anna wasn’t going to start her Lady’s day with her head in the clouds.

**

Anna stepped into Lady Mary’s room after being summoned in.

She was met with the sight of Lady Mary facing her window, but upon hearing Anna enter, she had turned to face her.

And everything hit Anna all at once.

The things she had dreamt the night before; Lady Mary in Anna’s uniform, Lady Mary fixing silk dresses across Anna’s smaller frame, Lady Mary’s soft mouth on hers...

Those weren’t elements of a dream, but of memories.

And as Anna took in the clear desperation, almost panic on Mary’s face, Anna realised she hadn’t been alone in that world.

She never had been.

Anna hastily closed the door behind her as Lady Mary stood up from her bed.

Fear the likes of which Anna had never seen on her Lady before was etched into Mary’s exquisite – a descriptor Anna had not let herself think of her Lady before– features as she approached Anna.

“Anna.”

“Ma – my lady.”

Anna tried to stop Mary’s name from falling from her tongue, but she knew, even as she covered it up with the title, that Mary had caught it. Caught her.

“It wasn’t just a dream.”

Mary came closer and Anna barely had the wherewithal to shake her head.

“No, M –”

“Anna.”

Mary was looking at her with a worrying mouth and frantic eyes, yet Anna could see a quiet resolution in her. Something Anna had always admired about her.

“Call me by my name.”

And Mary was moving closer, and Anna was finding it harder to breathe. She was finding that she almost didn’t want to.

“Mary.”

No sooner had Mary’s name passed Anna’s lips were Mary’s pressed against them.

Mary’s hands slipped along the back of Anna’s head and neck, and Anna’s gripped Mary’s waist as they lost themselves in the kiss.

“Oh Anna,” Mary breathed as she kissed along every inch of Anna’s cheeks, jaw and chin. Anna sighed, basking in Mary’s fervent attention. Anna ran her hands along Mary’s shoulders, finding delight in the fact that she was now free to do so.

Mary drew back and rested her forehead on Anna’s.

“Oh darling, what are we going to do?”

Anna’s heart soared even as her stomach sunk at Mary’s words. Darling had made sparks skitter across Anna’s skin, and even though despondence coloured Mary’s question, the fact that it was voiced at all gave Anna hope that Mary wanted a future with her.

Anna tilted her head back so she could meet Mary’s gaze. She leaned up to place a whisper of a kiss to Mary’s lips and held her tight to her chest.

“We’ll sort something out, Mary. I promise.”

A/N: I’m not sorry for the gratuitious use of italics in this.

[kamzil118]

The Absurdity of Victoria: 4th Generational Warfare

There's this book called Victoria: 4th Generational Warfare and the initial name sounds really appealing at first glance. It's a glimpse into the madness of a man who didn't like to be proved wrong and hated how the world changed.

The "novel" - it really does not deserve to be called that - was written by William S. Lind. If you watched Lazerpig, you would completely understand. Now for the uninitiated, the author was part of a military movement known as the Reformists.

So to give a bit of background, when the Vietnam War had come to a close, the US military wanted to learn what it did wrong and what it could do to improve and develop its combat capabilities in the future. This is where the Reformists came into that picture and what they wanted was to sorta look to the past and try to emulate some of the tactics of the Vietcong or refuse to adopt more modern expensive technology for the "rugged" technology - this is a key detail that gets brought up throughout the novel. We do see their influence with stuff like the LAV for the US Marine Corps or their talking points surrounding the positives of the A-10 Warthog and the negatives of the F-35.

Everything would change when the 1st Gulf War happened. Main battle tanks wiping the floor with the Iraqis at 73 Easting or the Coalition Air Forces performing SEAD - Suppression of Enemy Air Defense. The Reformists didn't want these examples to be taken to heart but the proven effectiveness of the tactics and the successful application of modern technology had settled in the minds of contemporary generals. This meant that the entire philosophy of a low-tech approach to warfare proposed by the Reformists had been discredited and their reaction to this moment in history had made most of them go off the deep end.

Yeah, they went on a massive binge of coping with reality proving them wrong. This should really set the tone of what this book is about... among other issues that have not aged well.

So our first scene begins with the protagonist burning a woman at the stake. Her crime? There's no such thing as a female priest.

Welcome to Hell, ladies and gentlemen, where even the Devil would hold your hand to protect you from this nonsense.

Now I won't summarize the entire book in a single post because we could be here all day. If you want to take a look but also don't want to spend a penny on absolute trash, there are a couple of Let's Reads on the xenoforum of SpaceBattles. There, you can get some entertaining reactions from the posters there with a few gems of my own.

So, where would you like me to begin with the nonsense? Let's start with the author's hatred for modern technology and boy does it show up here. There's a concept in the book, "Retroculture" meaning that anything after the 1960s is invalid and not worthy of true civilization both technologically and socially. So picture that level in the original Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 where the Russians invaded the United States. If Lind was in charge of America's defense, he would try to issue out M1 Garands with iron sights and World War Two flak jackets to the infantry to face off against kevlar-wearing Russian paratroopers with assault rifles and modern optics. Then declare that the average American infantry would win because the Russians were a bunch of pussies for relying on modern technological advances.

This even applies to vehicle warfare on land, sea, and air.

Federal troops have Bradley IFVs? Deploy the T-34s with the shitty gun sights.

Pirates on fast-moving boats with machine guns and RPGs? Send in the torpedo boats of the 1870s.

Multirole fighters with anti-air heat-seeking missiles and autocannons? Bring out the airships of World War One.

Hell, the author has gotten to the point where he treats video games as morally horrible as drugs. The novel has a moment where you have hidden alleyways where shady-looking gentlemen in cloaks are trying to sell you hard copies of God of War 3 or Fallout New Vegas because the fun police think it's unChristian.

Do not get me started on the tactics and strategies.

It really comes down to Lind trying to peddle his Reformist nonsense. Even if you might find some form of meaning in supporting his points, he's incredibly selective about it. He will look at the Taliban's efforts in Afghanistan or the Toyota War and shake his head screaming, "They don't count!" because they're not white Anglo-Saxon protestant Americans.

The book has its moments where the characters emphasize light infantry to such a degree that they are practically the mainline fighting force because Lind doesn't want them to be bogged down by dragging helicopters and artillery. He forces the protagonist to relinquish the skies because he truly believes that air support is stupid. Yet, it has a funny opportunity that any air transports have to be escorted in friendly airspace because those "Muslim terrorists" have Ace Combat/Project Wingman pilots who can perform air operations deep in hostile territory. Shame that he doesn't realize the flaw in that part of the story. To go even further, the protagonist has to invade feminist California from New England and the most optimal choice is to go full Oregon Trail with authorial fiat despite the state's military having one of the best air forces in the region of Warlord America.

Then there are the action scenes. They're so god-fucking-awful to read through. I've put more effort into my fanfiction involving Frozen and Metro 2033. The reason he doesn't have good combat scenes is that he needs more room to make statements like how African-Americans have a natural affinity to agriculture thanks to their racial upbringing or women having a purpose in the kitchen unless they want to be shipped as an Arabian sex slave to break their independent thinking. It's also not helped when there's the inspiring "assistance" of the Russians and the Chinese because he would rather sell out parts of the United States to foreign authoritarianism than let it live with its "Marxist culture" within the borders.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by a man who slept through briefings and has a massive distrust of the officer corps of all the branches.