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rein-ette · 3 years

Note

Are you still working on your Commonwealth study? Do you have any thoughts on Arthur's relationships with his colonies apart from Canzuk + US?

Not properly, unfortunately with exams and then work I haven’t had mental/emotional capacity to do real research (and probably won’t for a while 😔). But I have continued to think about and develop certain relationships, and I think I also have old hcs I’ve never shared, so I’ll put those down!

Born into the Empire

Australia

@oumaheroes has already done such great hcs on him idk what I can add, but basically he was a little bit of a rowdy child, always breaking windows and shattering fancy pots, never able to sit still. I think rainbow once mentioned that Ken (short for Kenneth, my name for Aus) was a lot like England as a child in his curiosity and energy, and I wholeheartedly agree. But I think Arthur’s intensity was more inwardly directed, pushing him to pursue and master new talents and learn whatever he could, while Australia is a little more carefree in his love for the outdoors, exploring, jumping around and off things, little wild animals. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a period of the empire when Arthur was very serious about his kids education, and therefore often praised those who studied hard and learned fast, which really just wasn’t Australia’s cup of tea. Australia took this kinda hard and thought he was the “dumb” one in the family that Arthur was always scolding, but in reality Arthur knew and appreciated that Australias interests lay elsewhere — he was just a frustrated, tired, parent who really wanted to give his kids the best while also holding his empire together, two goals that were never going to fit well in the end and would completely exhaust him.

As Australia’s grown older he’s realized a bit of this (not entirely, though) and also that 1) he really did break a lot expensive things and cause general mayhem 2) scolding us Arthur’s way of showing he cares, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have payed attention to him at all 3) despite being a penal colony, he was still one of Arthur’s more “legitimate” children (being white and a boy) and was therefore still incredibly privileged — never having to question, for example, why it was that Arthur was his dad, if it should be this way, or if he had a seat at the family table at all (more on this later).

New Zealand

Zee, from birth, was a clear favourite. Obedient, calm, quietly intelligent, he would also later develop a blistering sense of humour which combined with his appearance made it overwhelmingly clear who’s child he was. If Ken questioned his place in the family because of his poor academic record and others did because of their appearance/race/other complications, Kaelan never had such problems; his siblings called him the “prince.” Zee, however, also had a charm that, like Matthew, endeared him to his siblings and mostly protected him from jealousy, though he certainly still had issues with being called a try hard, daddy’s boy, bossy, arrogant. Certainly as a child Zee was a little prideful and, under that unperturbed demeanour, willful, but he grew out of it by the 20th century and became one of those most trusted by Arthur, second only to Matthew. He’s also always been inseparable from his brother Australia despite their differences, and today they both have one of the healthiest and most amicable relationships with Arthur of any nation, let alone former colonies (family road trips, every summer).

Bermuda

I absolute fell in love with this girl after reading about here, once, in this fic by @shachaai, and after that my mind just ran away with me. For me, her human name given to her by Arthur just has to be Ariel — for the little mermaid reference, yes, symbolizing her connection to the sea and stunning good looks, but also because:

1. Ariel is a biblical name, meaning lion of God. This makes sense to me, because Bermuda began as a Portuguese trade post, so Arthur definitely consulted our resident bad catholic Port before naming her.

2. Ariel used to be boys name. This also makes sense, because I hc Bermuda was and still is a tomboy. Bitch is fierce, takes no prisoners, and has zero filter. Her letters to Arthur, which all the colonies sent so Arthur could keep an eye on things, were full of shit like “I swear to god if the Spanish don’t get out of my waters I might eat one of them,” and “father, I asked you for destroyers two months ago, and yet you sent them to Hong Kong — could you explain this most unusual occurrence, surely it’s not that you forgot”, and “thank you for the harpoon on my birthday, I caught a small shark a couple days ago and have sent you some of its teeth for your collection.” Arthur tolerates this attitude because he’s weak when it comes to girls; he absolutely spoils his daughters (and flushes like a 16 year old when a woman so much as bats her eyelashes at him). Yes, p*ssywhipped Arthur is a hill I will die on.

3. It also suits her because? Ariel? Shakespeare? The Tempest? Bermuda Triangle? Shipwrecks? Daughter-like figure of powerful and vengeful sorcerer? Yeah. And this girl is a fire spirit — she is so lively, snarky, clever. As she’s grown older she’s mellowed out a little, but still: a no shit taken, no fucks given type of gal.

4. Speaking of growing up, she’s also become quite the beauty. Shacha, if I’m remembering correctly, described her as dark skinned, wavy-haired, and green eyed and that image has been burned onto the back of my eyelids ever since. Those Iberian genetics really be pulling through for her, that’s for sure. Engport love child if I’ve ever seen one. Definitely one of the prettiest in her family.

Singapore

I’ve already mentioned this to needcake, but I’m not too big a fan of canon Singapore, so this is my oc version. Singapore is fascinating to me because it had only a very small local population before it became a colony (The original settlement had actually been destroyed by the Portuguese about two centuries before the British started building a port there.) So nation-tans like Singapore and Bermuda really are Arthur’s children in the most direct sense of the word. And yet, Singapore is mostly ethnically Chinese, with Malays being the second largest group. Growing up Asian in a white, Victorian era family surely cannot have been easy and more than once Singapore probably wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake. To make up for the constant fear that he wasn’t “really” British, Singapore studied ferociously and had a truly terrifying work ethic. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge outside Asian circles, so I’ll mention that this hc comes from the fact Singapore is well known for having truly exceptional students and some of the most prestigious schools. Singaporeans score highly in literally everything and they have an advantage with good English learning environments, a highly desirable trait in Asia, but these results come from brutally long hours — and its really saying something that they’re known for working hard, considering the studying ethic of students in Korea, Japan, and China aint nothing to sneeze at, either. To me this actually fits really well with Singapore’s upbringing in Arthur’s household, because Arthur himself prizes intelligence and hard work above all else, being a workaholic himself.

As for their relationship, it was probably the best when Singapore was young and peaked in the 1930s with the massive naval base the British built at Singapore, at the time the largest dry dock in the world. Singapore was a well-behaved child, not necessarily introverted but not rowdy either, and all the way into his teenage years he truly admired Arthur and was proud to be a part of the British Empire, despite his lingering unease and insecurities. The British defeat in World War II, however, was a massive turning point. He had worked his ass off to be a good son, a good brother, to contribute to the only family and system he had ever known, and he had thought by the 30s he was finally on his way to becoming a fine adult. And suddenly, the British surrender brings his entire world crashing down. He had followed the rules faithfully thinking it was his destiny, but suddenly it was clear that all rules were made up. Of course, his insecurities exploded. If the empire was a ruse, what the hell was he? A part of the illusion? He couldn’t have a truly Asian identity, because many of the old East Asian nations shunned him for his Western upbringing, and he could not entirely understand their values either. So he was a kid who kinda had to figure out late and very very suddenly who the fuck he was and wanted to be.

And, well, he’s done pretty well for himself, hasn’t he. After having a total crisis and questioning everything, I think Singapore slowly started to realize that just because the British Empire as a political entity didn’t last forever, that didn’t mean that his entire childhood and identity weren’t real. The love he gave to his siblings and the love he got back, the hard work he put in, his bond with Arthur and the safe, happy childhood he had — those memories and feelings didnt have to be diminished by what came after. Essentially, he learned the lesson all nations have to learn, which is that one needs to be able to discern between duties as a nation and feelings as a human being, and to some extent keep them separate to protect both.

Whoooooo ok I’ll stop there because this turned into a dissertation, sorry. Let me know if there are any specifics u want me to elaborate on or anything I missed, but I’ll leave this here for today :)

#hws england #hws Australia #hws new zealand #oc: hws Bermuda #not gonna tag anymore I’m lazy #fun times with the commonwealth #I probably won’t write so much for all of them I just put it there to remind myself #needcake #ask #my hcs

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the-mighty-jellybean · 4 years

Text

Crown of Thorns

“What will I be when I grow up, Lady Mother?” Y/N asked, the bed sheets wrapped high under her chin, arms clutching her knees.

“You will be Queen, my darling,” she cupped her face, and she leaned into her touch, “and a warrior.”

Series Summary: After the need for their alliance during the Battle of Titan, King Stephen asked in return for his services, that King Anthony of the Iron Islands’, first born daughter would be given in marriage, to his sons, Prince Steven and Prince James of the Kingdom of Kamar-Taj. Despite King Anthony’s other offers, King Stephen would only agree to one, or there would be war between their two Kingdoms. Leaving King Anthony with no choice, he sacrificed his first born daughter, in hopes of sparing his people of anymore suffering. Anthony prayed that the men would care for his daughter, and love her as he did, but a sparkly crown can hide a thousand secrets.

Pairing: Prince!Steve x Princess!Reader x Prince!Bucky

Series Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Angst, Fluff (There will be some fluffy stuff I promise, I can't resist), Smut: This series will include some aspects of Dub-con/Non-con: Steve and Bucky aren't going to be Prince Charmings. More Warnings will be posted on Chapters.

Masterlist

Part Two: A Rose Between Two Thorns

Chapter Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.9k

“Everything seems to be happening so quickly.” Pepper sighed, as her and Y/N were shown colour schemes for the big day, that was only a few hours away.

Y/N had sat, slumped on her chair, flicking through fabrics, whilst silently wishing she was with Peter during his sparing session, which was taking place in the courtyard, just outside the window.

“Lady Mother, please may I be excused?” Y/N asked for the fourth time that day.

“Once again, Y/N…no, you may not go to your sparing session today. You have to choose fabrics for your gown,” Pepper frowned at Y/N, who scrunched her face up in disapproval, “Now…do you like the peppermint green, or blood orange?”

Y/N’s eyes bulged at the sight of the harshness of the materials being held up to her.

“Neither.” Y/N faked retched, sticking her fingers down her throat, in an attempt to produce a gagging noise.

“Y/N, please. I too am unhappy with these arrangements, but we don’t have a choice. Your father has done what he could to protect the peace of our kingdom…”

“But what about me? How is marrying me off to two psychopaths keeping me safe?” Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes and folding her arms.

“Y/N, I have told you too many time…don’t call them that.” Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose, before looking back, at a just as peeved Y/N.

“Your father would do anything to keep you safe and believe it or not; by gifting you to King Stephen’s fine young Princes, he is doing so.” Pepper swept some of Y/N hairs away from her forehead.

“I know that Daddy loves me. It’s just…their so…old.” Y/N shivered as she thought of the age gap between her and the two Princes. Even with her tutoring in courtship and what-not, she still thought that the Princes were too old for her.

“You’re not marrying them in a few days.” Pepper chuckled, “This is simply your betrothal, you will marry them, when you are of age, which will be…”

“I will rule my kingdom when I am old enough and wise enough to withstand the power and the control needed to protect my kingdom accordingly, this will be when I am eighteen years of age.” Y/N rattled, like she was a robot, huffing out the words that she had been learning since she was tiny.

“Very good…now, pick a fabric.”

~~~~~~

“It’s so boring, Peter. They made me sit around choosing different cloths and napkins and cutlery and drapes and carpets and dinner plates…and are you even listening to me?” Y/N sat up slightly on the tree branch that she was dangling off, to look at the boy, who was staring far off into the distance.

“Hello, calling Master Parker, are you listening to me?” Y/N prodded Peter in the side, making him shake out of his trance like state.

“Yeah, yeah something about napkins.” Peter shook his head, fiddling with his tunic.

“Peter, what’s the matter?” Y/N pulled herself up from hanging upside down, swinging one of her legs over the other side of the branch, so that she could look at Peter’s glum face square on.

“Nothing…nothings the matter.” Peter sighed, pulling his dagger, and starting to jab at the bark on the tree, flicking bits of wood everywhere.

“There must be something, you haven’t said a word since we finished practicing our Latin this morning.” Y/N shuffled closer, careful of Peter’s frantic jabs of his dagger.

“I haven’t been able to get a word in.” Peter grumbles, making Y/N pout.

“You could have told me to shut up…you usually do?” Y/N tilted her head in confusion at the pale boy, who was yet to meet her eyes.

“I can’t tell you to shut up, you’re the Princess.” Peter shrugged, sliding his dagger back into his belt, and pulling himself up onto a higher branch.

Y/N kept the glum look on her face, following him up the various amounts of branches.

“When has that ever stopped you?”

“Look I need to start showing you more respect. I’ve become lazy in the manners that my father and Uncle taught me. I need to remember my place.” Peter mumbled, again barely looking at the girl, who was desperately trying to keep up with her.

“Your place is being my friend and ally. Not my butler or servant.” Y/N tried to lighten the atmosphere, but Peter was not in a gaming mood.

“But I am your servant, Y/N. I am your father’s ward, not your suitor.” Peter said, seriously.

“Thank God.” Y/N tried to giggle, but it was met by another heart-breaking look from Peter.

“Ah, there you are young Y/N, I’ve been searching everywhere for you. Come your father wishes to speak with you privately.” They were interrupted by Jarvis, Anthony’s personal adviser, who stood at the bottom of the trees waiting for her.

“This conversation is not over, Pete.” Y/N spoke over her shoulder, as she began her decent, and following Jarvis to her father’s study.

~~~~

“There she is, my future daughter-in-law.” The unfamiliar voice made Y/N stop just short of the entrance to the study, Jarvis had to give her a light push on her back, in order to edge her into the room.

“Y/N, come in and meet King Stephen.” Y/N recognised the second voice of her father, relaxing slightly.

She edged her way around the side of the room, giving Stephen and his many advisors a wide birth. Joining her father behind his desk, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, as she flicked her eyes up to the lean man stood in front of her, who appeared to be analysing her every feature, making her shuffle on her feet, uncomfortably.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, your Grace.” Y/N did a small bob, hoping that would suffice as a curtsey.

“You too, your Highness. I will say, my sons will be impressed with your beauty.” Stephen flashed her a wicked smile, when he caught her shuddering at his words.

“Not until she is eighteen, they will not.” Anthony spoke coarsely, making Stephen smirk.

“I understand that there is an age gap between our offspring, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t admire the beauty that will only grow greater as Princess Y/N, grows older.” Stephen quipped, Y/N watched her father clench his fists on top of his mahogany desk, but he didn’t respond to Stephen’s comment directly.

“Very well, your boys may comment on her splendour, but I’d kindly ask you to stop. You will not make my daughter your fourth wife.” Anthony spat, Y/N had never seen him behave in such a way, to be so short and direct with another monarch, she couldn’t lie…she was proud.

“We both have had our fair share of wives, my Lord.” Stephen replied darkly, the comment making Y/N’s heart clench, as she realised that Stephen was referring to her late mother.

“Gentlemen, if I could just interrupt this wonderfully productive tit-for-tat conversation and remind you both of why you are here.” Y/N’s ears perked at the sound of a friendly voice, she looked up and beamed when she saw the man, who had tutored her from the smallest of ages.

“Yes, you are right, Vision, we must stop this childish talk, and get down to business.” Anthony cleared his throat and nodding accordingly to the Vision.

He had been an advisor of many kingdoms, before settling in the Iron Islands, he was an ally to all, but he had a soft spot for Y/N. The Vision had told Y/N, that he had, had a dream, that she would be the light that will block out the darkness of the world, and that was why he must be the one to tutor her, in the ways of the world.

“I quite agree.” Stephen grumbled, pulling out a quill and a roll of parchment, Anthony mirrored his actions.

“We are here to set in written word, the agreement of our Kingdoms, that will become forever united by the marriage of our children.” Anthony rattled off, Stephen and his group of elderly men nodding in agreement.

Y/N let out a subtle huff.

‘I’m going to be here for a while.’

~~~~~

“Y/N…your highness…you must wake up…”

Y/N shook awake, her hair standing on ends, as she currently had the bedheads of all bedheads.

“What’s going on?” Y/N spoke through a yawn, rolling onto her back, to look at the Lady Maria, who was filling a silver tin tub, with warmed water.

“It’s your betrothal day, your highness.” Lady Maria smiled, but Y/N just groaned, rolling over to face plant in her bed, pulling the sheets up and over her head.

“I’m not going.” Y/N yelped when the sheets were ripped off of her body, and the cool air prickled her skin as she clutched her night dress tighter.

“You have to go.” Lady Wanda smiled, strolling into the room, with Y/N’s betrothal dress, draped over one of her arms, but then hung it up, allowing the blue lacy to tumble to the floor, exposing the rich fabric.

“Could you tell them that I feel unwell?” Y/N questioned, trying to hide under her pillow, but that too was taken away from her.

“Do you feel queasy, do I need to call for the physician?” Lady Maria began to pat Y/N’s forehead, testing it for a fever.

“Not yet, but I imagine something will befall me, when I look upon those Princes.” Y/N muttered.

“Don’t be silly, your Highness.” Lady Maria tutted, “Now come on, up with you.”

Y/N felt a hand wrap around one of her ankles, and pull her to the bottom of the bed, and forcing her up onto her feet. Her toes curled, as the cold stone floor made her hiss, and look back at her comfy bed in despair.

“Let’s get you in this water, before it gets cold.” Lady Wanda said, kindly. Pulling the night dress over Y/N’s head and huddling her into the bath.

Y/N sighed outwardly, when he chilling figure was encompassed by the soapy suds of the tin tub, it eased her tense muscles, but not her knotted stomach, which continued to twist with unease and anxiety.

~~~~

“…and there…finished.” Lady Wanda smiled brightly at Y/N, as she placed the final finishing touches on the young Princess. The final item being a silver crown, that had once been worn by her mother. It was pristine in its condition, consisting of shining arch ways, and peaked spikes, it glimmered in the light of the morning sun, that was cast through the small arrow window in Y/N’s bed chambers.

“Your mother is looking down on you today, my Princess.” Lady Wanda gestured to the way the light was beaming in through the window, and pooling around Y/N, making her features glow, and the tiara sparkle.

“You really are, the most beautiful Princess, in all of the Kingdoms.” Lady Wanda sighed.

“She truly is.” Y/N slowly spun round, to look at her father, who was leaning on the wall, arms folded and eyes sparkling, as he surveyed his young daughter, “Please, leave us.”

Lady Maria and Lady Wanda curtseyed, before scuttling out of the room, to leave the two royals alone.

“They speak the truth, you know. You really are stunning, my little Princess.” Anthony smiled, taking hold of his daughter’s hands, and rubbing the top with his thumb.

“Thank you, Daddy.” Y/N blushed, giving his hands a squeeze, which was returned.

“I’m sorry that I have not given you much choice, in deciding, who you will be with, for the rest of your life, but please remember, that I have done this to keep you safe. And I know that you’ve heard the stories about the Princes…”

“Which you told me.” Y/N sassed, jutting an eyebrow, making Anthony sigh, and a smile grin cross his lips.

“Which I told you…but they are just that stories, I don’t know them truly, but what I do know, is that they will protect you, and that makes me happy.” Anthony sighed, his heart breaking, as he realised that by the end of the day, the Princess in the tower, will no longer belong to him, and instead; he will be raising her, only to ship her off, when she turns eighteen.

“I know, Daddy. What you have done, is to keep me safe, and I know you will continue to do so, even if I’m not here anymore. And besides, I’ve been trained by the best swordswoman, in the whole of the Marvel Continent. You didn’t think that Lady Valkyrie, would not teach me, how to handle myself.” Y/N laughed, making Anthony chuckle.

“Oh, I have no doubt, that you can handle yourself, my little love.” Anthony brushed his nose with Y/N, and she happily copied him back. “Are you ready, my young one?”

“I guess.”

They rode the golden painted carriage as it paraded through the streets, the people cheered watching their King and Princess sit happily side by side, waving to the adoring crowds.

It may as well have been Y/N’s wedding, the amount of effort that was put into today’s events, to the outside world, this was not a betrothal, this may have well been her wedding.

Anthony had to keep reminding himself that his little girl, was only ten, but she already had the grasp on what it took to be a fine ruler.

They arrived outside the Abbey, Y/N could just about make out the sound of the organ that was playing inside, over the roar of the people, that only seemed to be getting louder. Stepping down from the carriage, Y/N linked arms with her father, squeezing his sleeve, and Anthony looked at her with a proud and reassuring smile, before leading her into the Abbey.

There was no cheering in the Abbey, it was deafly silent, the only noise came from the organ, that rattled off the hollow stone walls. Y/N got goose bumps when she glanced down at the end of the aisle, where the figures of two men stood shoulder to shoulder, dressed in their military uniforms.

“Ready, sweet girl?” Anthony asked her once again, Y/N swallowed thickly, glancing at the different Kingdoms, who had all gathered for the celebration.

“I think so.”

That would have to do, as soon the music on the organ changed, and Y/N was being pulled down the aisle by her father. The different faces, all shared different expressions, those who had allied with the Kamar-Taj kingdom, gave Y/N assuring smiles, such as King T’Challa, from Wakanda. Looking along the seats that were sat under the Kamar-Taj banners. Y/N noticed there was one person, who was not smiling at her.

It was a woman, with brown hair that was just shoulder length, Y/N flipped through her mental book of Kings and Queens, then it came to her.

Queen Margret of England.

She was watching Y/N’s every step, her scowl appearing to grow deeper the closer she got to the altar.

Changing her eye line, as the constant surveillance made a chill go down Y/N’s back, she looked over to her ‘family’ so to speak, but she wasn’t as comforted as she hoped that she might have been.

Unlike the majority of the Kamar-Taj crowd, who had been smiling, the opposite side of the room, had deep frowns, or looks of sympathy, as they watched Y/N make her way to the end of the aisle.

Her throat grew dry, the distance between her and the Princes were growing shorter, her knees going weak, as she pulled up alongside them.

Anthony let go of Y/N’s arm, the area of her arm, growing cold, as the warmth and security of her father was disappearing. Anthony kissed the side of her head, his lips lingering, as he willed all of his strength and love into her, before leaving her side, and taking his seat in one of the front rows, next to Pepper, who squeezed his hand tightly.

Y/N steadied her breathing, as one of the Princes; the one with blonde hair, moved so that Y/N was trapped between the two of them.

The only source of comfort that Y/N had, was that the Vision was initiating the betrothal, his warm smile brought Y/N some more reassurance.

“To our friends and allies of Kingdoms far and wide, we gather here today to witness the binding of two families, and the promise that one day the union will be solidified in marriage.” The Vision began.

The Princes towered over Y/N, their maturity obvious with their tall stature and light stubble that graced their jaws. Y/N had never felt so young and small, when positioned next to men.

Their military medals hung off their broad chests, clinking together, when they moved.

“We will bind the arms of the two families, the green vines represent the growth and fertility that the marriage will bring to both of the Kingdoms.”

A green and gold twine was wrapped around Y/N’s left and right arm, it felt heavy like shackles, and her two jailers wrapped their own arms in the twine, connecting the three together.

“Prince James Buchanan of Kamar-Taj repeat the words that I speak,” Prince James nodded, grasping Y/N’s small hand, his fingers were cold, and his hand was large, Y/N could feel his strength, just from the palm of his hand.

“I, James Buchanan of the House of Strange and Kingdom of Kamar-Taj.”

“I, James Buchanan of the House of Strange and Kingdom of Kamar-Taj.” His voice sent shudders through Y/N, she had to stop herself from shivering.

“Son of Stephen Vincent of the House of Strange and Kingdom of Kamar-Taj.”

James repeated the Vision once again, Y/N could barely look at James, he was good looking, but no matter how hard Y/N tried, she couldn’t forget the stories that she had heard, that made him so ugly.

“Do swear to fulfil the promise of marriage to Y/N Y/M/N of the House of Stark, daughter of Anthony Edward, the rightful Princess and heir to the throne of the Iron Islands.”

James’ dark eyes fixed upon Y/N, and spoke the words that he was told, Y/N had to keep her mouth clamped shut, so that he couldn’t hear her teeth chattering.

~~~~~

The ceremony appeared to go on for hours, each of them taking it in turns to repeat the Vision’s words.

Eventually it came to the end, the Vision removed the twine, freeing Y/N physically from the tie, but Y/N didn’t feel any lighter, the weight of what had just happened still weighed heavy on her shoulders.

Once the ceremony was completely over, and the three made their way back down the aisle, and into the golden carriage that waited outside. Unlike before, when Y/N could barely hear herself think, because of the noise of the people, she could now hear the street rats that were scavenging through the leftovers.

The street had never been so quiet, as the crowd just watched the little Princess climb into the carriage with the grown Princes.

It was almost a completely silent trip back to the castle for the evening events. Almost silent, it was briefly broken by a shout from a woman.

“Mother killers.”

Y/N froze, watching the two men for a reaction, James’ lips twitched, and Steve’s hands clenched, but they didn’t flinch or speak.

From then on, there was a tense atmosphere within the small space.

~~~~~

The night was long, and dull.

Y/N had to sit between the two Princes, whilst she watched her friends and family dance and laugh, whilst she had to sit glumly with James and Steve, who had not spoken to her since they had made their promise vows.

“Will you dance with me?” Y/N whispered, looking nervously between the two.

They looked at each other, scowls good and strong, unmoved.

“No.”

Y/N sighed, sitting back in her chair, slumping her head onto her balled up fist.

Then Y/N spotted Peter, his position was the same as her, bored out of his mind, picking at the food that was left on his plate with his fork.

“Excuse me.” Y/N shuffled her heavy chair back, but as she went to walk away, her arm was caught by James, who held it tightly, stopping her from leaving, “What are you doing?”

“You need to stay with us, you are ours now.” James pulled Y/N back towards him, and up onto her chair.

“I’m not yours, not yet. I’m simply promised to you, and promises can be broken, so let go of me, before I scream, and you are beheaded for harming the Princess.” Y/N glared at James, who stared back, but then Steve cleared his throat, catching both of their attention.

“Let her go, Bucky. Let her enjoy her last few years of freedom.” Steve smirked, wickedly.

James’s grip loosened enough for Y/N to wriggle free and she soon made her way to Peter.

“Hey, Pete. Why the long face?” Y/N asked sitting next to him. She clearly caught him off guard, his fork clattering to the plate when he jumped in surprise.

“Err…Y/N, what are you doing here?” Peter stuttered, his eyes were darting between Y/N’s face, and the look of thunder the two Princes were giving him.

“You looked miserable, and I was miserable, so I thought we could relate.” She spoke freely, popping a grape in her mouth, “What is wrong with you, you’ve been like this for weeks, just tell me what is bothering you.”

Peter looked around, then grabbing Y/N’s hand under the table, and pulling her out of the ballroom.

“Peter, where are you taking me? I can’t be gone for too long.” Y/N worried, watching the way Prince James and Steve watched her leave the hall, with the young boy.

Peter didn’t say anything, pushing the doors of the throne room open, and slamming them behind him. Y/N looked around the room, before taking a seat on her father’s throne, turning to the side and dangling her legs over the side.

“What’s got you all hot and bothered, Petey?” Y/N continued to tease, watching the way Peter’s skin was growing clammy, and he started playing with his hair.

“I need you to know something. I have to tell you, or I will regret it for the rest of my life.” Peter started to worry Y/N.

“Just tell me, Peter.” Y/N sighed.

“I’m in love with you.”

The world stopped spinning, a whooshing noise went into Y/N’s ears, as she looked at Peter in disbelief.

“What did you say?” Y/N sputtered.

“I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you since I was six years old.” Peter smiled, but it faded when he watched Y/N’s stunned face, remain just that.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Y/N eventually choked out.

“Because I need you to know. I couldn’t go on, knowing that I hadn’t told you.” Peter sat on the steps that walked up to the throne, his head between his knees.

“But what am I supposed to do. I’m getting married in eight years. I’ve been promised.” Y/N climbed off the throne, kneeling next to Peter. “What am I supposed to do Peter?”

“I know nothing can ever happen, you are a Princess, I am just a Ward.” Peter turned to Y/N, trying to touch her hands, but she pulled away shaking her heard.

“No, Peter. I can’t do this.”

“Well…isn’t this cute.”

Chills went down her spine, when Y/N turned to the door, to see her future husbands standing by the throne room doors.

Taglist

@readermia @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @bbywtchh @liakrichards @nisha-misha97 @waywardwifey @xxblueslothxx @randomtails @emma-is-a-nerd @hhxppyyy @viviennebloom @in-a-constant-daydream6 @actualhobbitjenny @sexyvixen7 @roleplay-multifandom @sassysaltyrat @sebastianstansqueen

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thephantomcasebook · 4 years

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Matt’s “Reasonable” Downton Abbey Movie Sequel Pitch

Since I’ve been known to take extreme flights of fancy ... maybe wedding Downton Abbey continuity to Pulp and Classic Adventure stories in the past ... this time I’m gonna pitch something that is plausible on the Silver Screen.

The Summery:

Set in the Mid-1950′s. Lady Mary Talbot hosts a house party at Downton Abbey, like the old days, before the war. However - during the party - a maid is found dead. Miles from competent investigators, Edward Pelham enlists the help of his childhood hero and older cousin, the Earl of Grantham, George Crawley. Once a famed adventurer and war hero - no one has seen or heard from him since the war ended. He has chosen solitude and exile in the seclusion of Crawley House with his young son and his faithful butler Thomas Barrow.

Together, with the help of old friends, the two cousins try to unveil the murderer that is on the loose in Downton Abbey looking to avenge an old sin from the past.

PRINCIPLE RETURNING CAST:

Lady Mary, Lady Edith, and Tom Branson - Michelle Dockery, Laura Carmichael, and Allen Leech

Lady Rose Aldridge, “Dowager Countess of Sinderby” - Lily James

Mrs. Lucy Branson - Tuppence Middleton

Anna Bates - Joanne Froggett

Thomas Barrow & Richard Ellis - Richard Collier & Max Brown

NEW PRINCIPLE CAST

Captain George “The Comet” Crawley, Earl of Grantham - Henry Cavil

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Crippled during battle while Storming an SS held Austrian Castle in May 1945, George Crawley chose seclusion rather than Downton Abbey. For the last ten years he has retreated from the world. Surrounded by Libraries of ancient texts and Medieval Chronicles - glass cases filled with trophies and artifacts from his adventures - George broods darkly over the death of his men and a betrayal by the one he loved most in Matthew Crawley’s old chair by the fire..

However, his young idealistic cousin rouses the once heroic and valiant adventurer back to action with the encouragement of his son Jason Crawley and Thomas Barrow, who believe George has sat idle too long and must become the leader and man of action he once was.

“Well, well, well ... if it isn’t Captain George “The Comet” Crawley himself. The most Dangerous Man in the whole Empire, this one was ... Once.

“Yes, I dare say, and how are you holding up these days, eh, Old Boy?!”

“With a cane.”

Ms. Sybil “Sybbie” Branson - Jessica De Gouw

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A Genius Mechanical Engineer, Sybbie was once the partner and companion of George Crawley on many adventure and stayed by his side throughout the war. However in 1943, during a mission with their SOE Commando Team in Greece, Sybbie Branson turned coat on the Allies and was revealed to be a Nazi Agent ... Her betrayal caused the unintended death of John “Johnny” Bates Jr.

Captured in Austrian Castle in May of 1945 at great cost in George’s blood and the lives of his men by her fanatical suitor and body guards, Sybbie was tried at Nuremberg for helping design super weapons for the Nazis. However, just before her execution, at the last moment, she was reprieved and recruited by “Operation Paper Clip” ... some believed sparing her life was the last thing George did before going into seclusion.

Ten years later, Ms. Sybil Darcy splits her time in Hollywood as an Oscar winning actress and a Southern California Military Base where she helps develop rockets for a fledgling American Space Program. It is only by chance that on another guilt ridden drinking binge that she awakens at the doors of Downton Abbey - her childhood home - where her International Playboy fiance was invited to Lady Mary’s House Party.

“When I’m in his arms all I can think of is home, and when I think of home all I can think of is you. I know what I’ve done is evil and can never be forgiven. And I don’t ask for it from you ... all I ask is that you wait for me ... please, don’t leave me here alone. I don’t remember what this world was like without you in it, And all I know is that I cannot live in such a world. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I love you, and I’ll never stop ... Never.”

Lady Marigold Fraser, “Countess of Tarahill” - Elizabeth Henstridge

During the “Battle of Britain” and “The Blitz” Corporal Marigold Crawley served as a operator and airwoman in the RAF control room. When George and Sybbie’s squadron was sent to break the Siege of Malta and fight in the North Africa Campaign , Marigold would not be left behind. Thus, she resigned commission and became a War Corespondent for her Mamma and Aunt Laura at “The Sketch” - covering George and his men’s exploits from the ‘safety’ of Sybbie’s mechanic’s hanger. Later, during Sybbie’s arch betrayal, Marigold used her media and diplomatic pass as a Marquess’s step-daughter to rescue a hunted George with the help of local resistance. She went on to cover D-Day, Market Garden, and the Battle of the Bulge while attached to a much darker and violent George and his Commandos,

Marigold was vaulted as a “Female Pioneer in Journalism”. But falling in Love with a Scottish Colonel in the British Airborne during Market Garden, she chose marriage rather than her career. But 10 years later the call of adventure is stirred in the societal matron’s blood once more upon her reunion with best friend George and a Mystery to solve.

“Do you ever think of it, George?”

“The war?”

“Would you think me terrible if I told you that I miss it?”

“What particularly do you miss about the Ardennes or Arnhem Bridge?”

“It’s not the places, not the snowy woods all bundled tight together in our freezing foxhole under artillery fire, or escaping Holland on rubber rafts in the middle of the night ... I miss our men, I miss ... waking up in the morning and knowing that we were apart of something, that it was you and me, and the old chaps, against the world ... I miss being useful, George. I guess, I’d rather like to feel that way again.”

Ms. Caroline Talbot - Daisy Ridley

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Beautiful, Spoiled, Clever, Selfish, and Effete, the co-heiress to “Branson & Talbot Motors” has spent her life attempting to get a rise out of her mother. As most desirable of debutantes and Crown Princess of British High Society, Caroline spends her days scheming and contriving against other society girls, of whom she loves to torment. Her nights in nightclubs spent drinking and dancing, waking up in different beds throughout the poshest London Houses.

She loathes her mother, and blames Henry’s death on George, whose Spitfire shot down the German Bomber that crashed into Henry and Bertie’s train during “The Battle of Britain”. With George and Sybbie having never gotten along with, or been able to stand, Henry - Caroline believes George plotted her father’s death.

However, her arrogance and anger is dropped only in the presence of her best and only true friend, her cousin Edward. The only person in her unhappy life of whom she knows she truly loves.

“JUST SAY IT, MAMMA! WHY CAN’T YOU SAY IT! Why can’t you just say you didn’t love him! I’m certainly not the first unloved child ever born to a widow looking for a cheap thrill! I guess I owe you enough thanks for at least marrying Daddy!”

“Oh, pipe down, you spoiled little bitch!”

“Shut up, you Nazi whore! You two ran off to have your little adventures and you never stopped to think, just once, about me!”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Here we are again! What could you possibly want more of?! Huh? You got everyone’s attention!”

“George, leave it!.”

“No, no more, mom! She got everything I didn’t! She got a mother and father, parents! You left me behind so that you and Henry could start your trendy new fashionable family! You took their side against me! You and Uncle Tom! Just so you can continue to play grab ass with your pathetic little trio! I spent years away from home, Christmases at Aunt Edith’s, all because Henry didn’t want me here! MY OWN HOUSE! And still, after all that, his brat wants more! So, what, Goddamnit!? What do you want from me, Caroline!?”

“YOU! I wanted my brother! I loved you and I needed you! And you left me with HER!

Lord Edward Robert Pelham, “Marquess of Hexham” - William Moseley

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Upright and just minded, Lord Hexham grew up on the stories of adventure and mystery that his older cousins, George and Sybbie, were famous for. At the death of his father in the war, he looked up to his cousin George as a male role model.

Thirteen years later, while on break from Oxford - he is not sure what to do with his life. Determined to save his beloved best friend Caroline from a nose dive of alcohol and sex turning into a death spiral, he finds himself at Downton Abbey - a guest of his Aunt Mary - when a murder takes place. But when the Killer leaves a message that it would only be the first. it seems everyone turns to him - as senior peer - for guidance. Unsure what to do, he goes to find his old mentor, George - who has much more experience in this kind of danger and mystery.

“I don’t know, Marigold ... sometimes I think I’m the wrong man for this job.”

“Nonsense. In fact, rising above the bias of an older sister and the person who helped raise you, I just happen to think you’re the perfect man for the job.”

“I feel ashamed sometimes. There are lads out there that don’t have two pounds in their hands. And here I am, a Marquess, leaving Oxford, to snuggle up to my big sister’s beast, because, I’m frustrated.”

“Well, they are fantastic breasts.”

“I’m serious ... I just, I keep telling Caroline that there’s more in life. But I feel like it’s all just words. Neither Mummy nor Papa were ever so ambitious. And it’s not that I want more power, how could I? It’s just ... I feel like there’s something out there, waiting for me to get into its shouting distance.”

Jason Matthew Crawley, Lord of Downton - Unknown (I don’t know child actors)

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Born in 1944 to an unknown mother of whom George refuses to speak of to anyone. Mary and the rest of the family were shocked and confused to find George return from the war hobbled on a cane and carrying a toddler that was unmistakably his son.

Ten years later the blue eyed raven curled boy attends the local Downton school, but is often pursued by high ranking academies for his extremely high intellect. But George refuses to entertain sending him away. Spending most days with Mary,Tom, and Edith, the boy is famed around the county for his Holmesian deduction skills ... and aptitude for machinery - which his father refuses to allow him to pursue. Serving as his father and ‘Uncle Edward’s’ assistant while investigating the murder, they find him a much bigger help than they thought possible.

“You listen to me, Cowboy ... cause I’m only going to tell you once. You stay away from Sybbie, do you understand me?”

“I was just saying that she’s beautiful -”

“Under no circumstance do you go near her or even speak to that woman.”

“But what does a movie star want with me?”

“This conversation is concluded, mind what I say.”

“But, Pop ... wha -?”

“That’s an order, Cowboy.”

“Ye- yes, Sir.”

#Downton Abbey #Sybbie Branson #George Crawley #Marigold Crawley #Caroline Talbot #Jessica De Gouw #Henry Cavill #Elizabeth Henstridge #William Moseley #Daisy Ridley

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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years

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Goodnight, Chris McQueen

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

I love you, Brat I hope you know that....... My biggest fear was becoming my old man Drinkin', philanderin', livin' for nothin' I wanted so much more for my little girl But Babe, I'm just like him A haunted soldier That never came back from the war I tried so hard to make you laugh Just so you didn't see me cryin' Funny names, and stupid jokes I guess, don't band-aid the holes Punched through the walls and in Your mother's heart Jesus, maybe this dad thing Was a cosmic hoax right from the start I love you like a big dog I'd die twice just to give you a hug Before I go, I want you to know I'm proud of my kid I could never do what you did It's like you told your ma You're made of steel, Vic You threw the bottle away You sure as hell didn't need me But you let your broken down dad save the day I ain't half the hero to you though As you are to Wayne Give 'em HELL, Babe Fight the good fight Don't cry over me I won't die as I lived A good for nothin' It's gonna mean somethin' I gotta believe Don't stay here, Brat, trapped in my death scene Remember the good stuff, when they say "Goodnight, Chris McQueen."

In the words of the illustrious Linda McQueen........ "Holy HELL." It's been days, and I've been in a morose fog, only just now emerging, shaking and fighting the tears, even as I write this, half numb, and half agony. I'm shocked, dismayed, and altogether fragile. The second I saw that this episode was going to be called, "Chris McQueen," I couldn't have been more thrilled, and my heart soared, excited! Chris McQueen has SHINED this season, our own resident white knight, slaying Vic's demons, both of the vice, and supernatural variety. It was no mistake, or random shuffle of fate, that her magic bridge led her back to her dad. He's been a gun-wielding, bomb-making, godsend!!! He helped her quit drinking, heartbroken that his little girl had inherited his disastrous coping mechanisms, refusing to let it drown her the way it did him. He's fought at her side, let her lean on him, he's become her safe place. He's given her the best advice about fighting for Lou, choosing her family, and oh yeah, he SINGLEHANDEDLY took on Bing Partridge, not just once, but TWICE!!!

If NOS4A2 has a CHAMPION, a dark horse in the game, it's hands down Chris McQueen. If anyone is deserving of their own personal, entitled episode, it's the vindicated father who did the work, fought like HELL for his redemption, made himself a better person for his daughter. That rush of flooding joy, cooled to wary concern, and hesitant dread, however, when I realized....... This honour could be his final tribute.......

Don't kill Chris McQueen........ I pleaded over and over in my mind, the frantic cry, resounding, even as I pressed play. I hadn't been able to shake that sinister, creeping feeling all day, and when we opened onto Chris at a funeral, my relief flooded in, graciously thankful to see him alive!!! Wait, he looked younger, like WAY younger, even younger than the first season, and oh my god, hold on, whose funeral is this!? Someone died........ my stomach knotting again, trying to figure out who, and we realize that this is Chris, decades ago, speaking at his Dad's funeral.

I loved, and I mean LOVED this opener. It's just so beautifully real, and one hundred percent Chris McQueen, as he muses about his father's life, and his own, and how the two came to mirror each other. He's funny, irreverent, vulnerable, and by the end, absolutely heartbreaking. It's a searing portrait of a broken man, and everything that caused his life to fracture, every death, that made him wish he was never born.

"When I came back from the gulf, I finally understood why he was pissed off all the time, because he knew there was no reason for him to born, and that nobody was going to give a shit when he died."

Chris' voice cracks, and my eyes sting, because I feel it, his greatest fear, and I know he's not just talking about his father, he's talking about himself, effectually delivering his own eulogy, and again I implored the fates...... Don't kill Chris McQueen.

Aaaaaaaaah, and HELLO Baby Vic!!! Oh my gosh, she's so precious, about eight years old, frowning as her father speaks, huddled close to her mother, and then when Chris becomes too overwhelmed with his anger and emotions to go on, tearing out of the church, she frantically chases after him, calling for him!!! Even then, she was her daddy's girl!!! Once again, I must COMMEND NOS4A2 for choosing the perfect miniature of our badass leading lady, because this girl is the very IMAGE of Ashleigh, and it was such a joy to see her fierce features, and resolve, in a dear little face!!! More Baby Vic, PLEASE!!!

Flashforward to the present day, and Team McQueen is ready and raring to hit the road. I loved this entire scene. The love between her and Lou as she tells him goodbye, and says, "I'm going to go get our boy." An achingly beautiful moment, these two give me life, and have become my FAVOURITE couple on the show!!! I may have been purely Team Drew Butler, Season One, but now I can't imagine our beautiful badass without her Teddy Bear Man, and I ship McCarmody so freaking hard!!! Vic revs the Triumph's engine, testing it, gearing up with her Dad, and it hits me....... She doesn't have to hide it, sneak away to go do her Creative Hero thing, he accepts her for exactly who she is, believes in her gift enough to go with her. For the first time..... Vic McQueen isn't riding alone........

Linda is an absolute rollicking delight, emphatic in her protest, and I have just come to LOVE her so much!!! "I don't know about this Vicki, taking explosives across a magical bridge IN THE RAIN!!!!" God BLESS this woman, she's so maternal here, and I love it, I see how much she's changed, becoming this mother and ex wife even, that isn't afraid to express her feelings and doubts, no longer shackled by the fear that she's destined to be alone.

"You're my only kid, Vicki, My Baby."

"You know me, Ma, made of steel, remember?"

Awwwwww oh my gosh, so freaking CUTE, and for the first time, they feel like a real family, The McQueen Clan on a Mission, slaying psychotic kidnappers, and rescuing lost children, becoming the family business. Linda's still unsure, hurrying after Chris and Vic, still thinking they're both CRAZY, when she sees it for the first time....... Her eyes widen impossibly, as a rickety, wooden, covered bridge, appears on the street in front of them, and her reaction is EVERYTHING we've been waiting for, I found myself, leaping off the couch, cheering as she says it. "Holy HELL!!!"

Chris' childlike wonder, as he looks up into the dark eves, and watches the bats flutter, the Triumph roaring through the beams of breaking light, weaving in and out of shadow, is such a joy to behold. He believed in it, believed in her, even without seeing, and it means that much more to Vic, you can tell. It's also symbolic, Vic sharing her world with her father, bringing him into her inscape, fighting the good fight TOGETHER, both soldiers. I loved it, every second.

Surprise, surprise, when they roll up to the junkyard, Bing Partridge isn't dead, because some cockroaches just won't DIE!!!! Like an AVENGING ANGEL, Chris McQueen is all of us, flying off that bike, and assailing Bing with murderous fury, backhanding his stupid face with the gun, over and over, impaling him deeper with the protruding rod, and I swear, I wanted to run to him, and HUG him so tightly, so freaking PROUD!!!! THANK YOU, CHRIS MCQUEEN!!!

"Where is he, you SICK, Son of a BITCH!?!?"

"HE CAN'T HELP US IF HE'S DEAD!!!!!"

Vic screams at her father, angrily chastising this good and proper beating that has been a LONG time coming!!!! I'm sorry, isn't that how ANY sane person would react to a sadistic, murdering, rapist whose made their life a LIVING HELL!? What gives, Victoria!? Chris falls back, as confused as I was, and then shakes his head, as he apologizes vehemently, which Vic is having none of. She's AWFUL to her father from this moment forward, rude and spiteful, blaming him for everything, and as much as I love the girl, in this unjust punishment, she REALLY lives up to her nickname, Brat.

This Kids Glove approach to Bing Partridge is MADDENING enough to make me PSYCHOTIC!!! BING. IS. EVIL. Say it with me, NOS4A2!!!! It's like they are hellbent on redeeming the ONE character that is beyond saving, a man that even God, himself, would look at reviled, and say, "Get thee behind me, SATAN!!!" Last week they failed, first through the deus ex machina epiphany, and then through the attempted murder/suicide, so they tried even harder, using a meeker approach, making him say manipulative propaganda like, "I wish I'd never met Mr. Manx, because then Vic McQueen would still be my friend." and "I'm all alone in here, and it's really scary." Ughhhh somebody, anybody, put us out of our misery, and put one right between his beady little rat bastard eyes.

I almost understand Tabitha's need to keep things professional, and speak to Bing, in a reassuring way that reaches his simple, monosyllabic mind. I get that beating the living hell out of him like he so obviously deserves isn't an option for her, but this man is a HEINOUS criminal, who's kidnapped kids, drugged and raped their mothers, KILLED both of his parents, not to mention TORTURED Charlie within an inch of his life, only just last week!!!! But by ALL MEANS, Vic, go HOLD HANDS WITH HIM, and see if that will help get your son back!!!! Cringe.

I HATED this, so, so, SO much!!! Bing was her friend, he betrayed her, violated the trust between them, became her worst nightmare, shot at her, traumatized her, duct-taping her to a chair, she should HATE him, despise the sight of him far more than Charlie Manx!!! I CRAVED a reckoning, even if it was just a verbal assault. But no, instead, Vic decides to play nice, and I get that most of it was an act to convince him to help her get her son back, but I could also feel NOS4A2's misguided hand in her actions. Look, see, even Vic can find the good in Bing!!!! Sigh. Not gonna lie, I was going to scream bloody murder if she said she forgives him!!!

Good Cop pays off, however, and Bing, desperate for Vic's forgiveness, reveals there is one more stop before Christmasland, one last chance to grab Wayne, when he gets out of the Wraith at Sleigh House to hang his ornament. It's a dawning revelation, intel quintessential to their success, and for once they know where Charlie is going to be, before he gets there, and can lay a trap for him and his indestructible car. I hate the way they arrived at the information though, I'd have much preferred to see Bing suffer for his sins, and the whole interaction is just so laughably implausible. I will say this however, there was a rather BEAUTIFUL line in this scene that Bing couldn't begin to deserve, but I LOVED it all the same. "I miss the person I thought you were." My god, that's powerful.

"Chris McQueen," is a STELLAR episode, full of beautiful lines like this, including my FAVOURITE thing that Maggie has EVER said to Vic, which perfectly exemplifies their eccentric friendship!!! "I'd shank a thousand assholes for your mopey ass!!!" YES!!! I LOVE THAT SO MUCH!!! I will say though, that I was SHOCKED at how cool Vic was with Maggie's scary new trick of hurting herself to use her powers, sans seizures. I thought she was going to kick her butt for that!!! I'm really worried, Guys, this is a dangerous addiction, that's going to be the hardest one yet for Mags to quit!!! The break-up with Tabitha was bittersweet, but it did not come as a shock to me. They'd been drifting apart for awhile now, and I feel like Maggie was so scared of losing her, that she was afraid to be herself. "I want to live in the real world all the time." For me, that was the nail in the coffin, having only heard it about a thousand times myself. Maggie will always be living in two worlds, and whoever she's with MUST accept that. They love each other, yes, but they just want different things. I do respect Tabitha so much for not demanding that Maggie give up her tiles, threatening to leave her if she didn't. She'd rather let Maggie go be herself, be happy, than try to stifle her, shove her into that hateful, constricting little box called normal.

Vic continues to be petty, and spiteful towards her father, treating him WAY too harshly, punishing him, when he's done nothing but fight for her, a literal action HERO, avenging Wayne, and kicking ASS!!! It hurt my soul, and I could see the pain in his eyes, thinking he'd failed her, apologizing again, just wanting her forgiveness. The second scene at the McQueen house is a far less fuzzy one, as she forbids her father to come with her, placing all the blame of every bad thing that's happened thus far on his shoulders, and she cuts him with razor edged words, saying the worst thing that she could have possibly said in that moment, something truly unforgivable, that I already know she will spend the rest of her life, regretting.

"I lived eight years of my life without you, Dad, and I can just as easily do it again." She sneers, and even Linda stares, aghast. "Vicki, no, you don't mean that!!!"

I felt the pangs in my heart, stunned that she could be that vicious to her own father, after all he's done for her, getting sober, changing his whole life, hell, getting HER sober!!! Linda is again so adorable, insisting she take Chris with her, like "Vicki let your father play on your magical bridge, if he wants!!!" not wanting him to feel left out, and while I want more father/daughter explosive awesomeness, I'm conflicted whether or not he should go. If he stays here...... he's safe. Eventually Linda's persuasion wins out. "Don't let your anger towards your father, keep you from getting back Wayne." With a frustrated sigh, Vic shoves a black helmet in Chris' hands, and we're off to the races again. "Bring them home," Linda whispers sweetly, embracing him tight, and as they hug, I get the most sinking feeling that it's for the last time. Dont...... Don't kill, Chris Mcqueen.

Vic and Chris work in silence, once they get to the charred foundation of Sleigh House in Colorado, burying the handmade bombs, and finally Chris can't take it anymore. "Is this how you want it, Brat?" He asks her, heartbroken, and Ashleigh's acting is PHENOMENAL, as she breaks down and reveals the truth behind her unprovoked animosity.

"It's easier to be mad at you, than to blame myself."

"None of this is your fault. Charlie Manx is not your fault."

"I want to forgive you, because if I don't, how can Wayne ever forgive me. But I can't just let myself off the hook!!!"

It's not entirely a make-up, but it's an important conversation, something she's been wrestling with for a long time. Chris is again AMAZING, consoling her, easing her guilt, even while she's the one that's been impossible. Again Vic, I love you, but your father did the absolute RIGHT thing, and he's the only one that did right by Bing, as far as I'm concerned.

Maggie and Lou join the dynamite father/daughter duo in Colorado, and I LOVED all of their scenes together, the two people in this world that Vic McQueen loves most, and there's something magical about it, something iconic, seeing all three of them together, the Creative Dream Team, united in their crusade against Charlie Manx.

"Every one of these ornaments represents a kid in Christmasland, lost forever. Do you think there's a way to get them back? The other kids?"

WHEN SOULS FALL.

Maggie stares down, perplexed at the tiles, as she arranges them, revealing to the oracle this cryptic, mysticism, and I myself, could NOT breathe. Holy SMASH. Ever since the end of, "Gunbarrel," where Vic wanders through the trees outside Sleigh House, frowning at them, the hundreds of glittering ornaments, swaying in the wind, glowing as she drew near, I just knew...... I KNEW the souls of the Lost Children, were trapped inside each and every one of them, and this suspicion was ever further confirmed, when she found Bradley's canoe ornament, broken open on the ground, after he burnt up in the Wraith. My prediction? To turn the kids back, they have to smash every single one of these ornaments, and only then can the escaped souls return to their vampire shells, and make them human again. The minute a child hangs an ornament, the transformation is complete.

I also LOVED the transcendent scene between Vic and Millie, a scared little girl, in over her head, calling, pleading through the static, and I couldn't help but MARVEL at how much has changed between them. Last Season Millie Manx was very much her father's daughter, cruelly taunting Vic, on her father's behalf, even appearing to her while she was awake, stabbing her with an invisible sword. Now, she calls out to her to be her saviour, her father's greatest enemy, the iron wrought armour of her inherited hatred falling away, and Vic sees her as she always was, not a hollowed out demon spawn, but just a frightened little girl that needs to be set free. I was also THRILLED that dear little Millie imparted the knowledge that Charlie CANNOT die, else all the children, including his daughter, will die with him. Vic abhors Charlie with a screaming vengeance, but now that she knows his death comes at the cost of every child he's ever taken, she won't kill him, she CAN'T kill him, because then all of this, everything she's fought so hard for, bled for, would be for nothing.

The final act is both the thrilling BEST and the incoherent WORST of the episode, as the chaotic music ominously heralds our man's arrival. Charlie Manx, cutting a dashing, imposing silhouette, dark against the hazy dusk, exits the Wraith, turning every which way, striking in profile, floating smoothly across the front of the car, to let Wayne out. I loved this aesthetic, Charlie moving swiftly through the mist and dying light, rising as the threatened dark, enclosing. It's beautiful, and serves two clever purposes. One, to shroud our debonair dark menace in all the more intrigue and mystery, and the other, to conceal just how bad Wayne's gotten. Charlie clasps his hands around Wayne's shoulders lovingly, the picture of paternal pride, and my heart caught, seeing Wayne in the cast light, his boyish curls, frayed and almost white, his skin covered in white blue veins, every one of his teeth, coming to a sharp point.

"Go on, My Boy, it's time to hang your ornament," Charlie chortles handing Wayne the CUTEST little gray, baby bat ornament, I have ever seen, urging him forward. "Choose any branch you like, just make sure it's a SPECIAL branch," Charlie crows, and my heart melts, so in love with both of them, and the way Charlie dotes on him, knowing that while this began as a revenge plot, Charlie has come to love and favour Wayne, like the son he never had. "Don't dilly dally," He warns adorably, with an eyebrow raise, and even this mild scold is too precious for words.

Charlie waits by the Wraith, already nervous, as little Wayne disappears into the grove of trees. I LOVED the Wraith's ADORABLE warning system, as it flashes danger, the car horn honking, and even more I loved Charlie's distressed reaction to it, hurrying over, brow knit, like a father racing to tend to and protect his frightened child. Can I just have this impossibly PERFECT man, that darling little curly-haired boy, and this pretty, shiny car, PLEASE!?!?

"Smart Car," I whisper to myself, as the Wraith senses Vic's presence, and the waiting bombs beneath the ground. Charlie, alarmed, jumps back into his car, to seek out what's got the Wraith in such a tizzy, racing away, and leaving young Wayne behind. If there was ever a time, to save Wayne, it is NOW!!! NOW, Maggie, grab him NOW!!!! Here's where things start to unravel for me as far as character motivation and realistic ability is concerned. Yes, I get that Wayne's appearance is terrifying for her, that she doesn't know what she's walking into as she approaches him, but there is NO WAY Margaret Leigh, Oracle Extraordinaire, Hourglass SLAYER, would just cower, and watch as Wayne hangs his ornament. Nope, sorry. Wayne isn't even all the way a vampire yet, he's in transition, and the FEARLESS girl that I know and love, would have grabbed him, reassured him, while she wrested the ornament from his hands, and SMASHED it!!! Wayne's soul flies back into his body, crying as he clings to his Aunt Mags, Charlie is thwarted, and everybody lives happily ever after. End Scene.

But no, Maggie, in an uncharacteristic move, waits until Wayne has ALREADY hung his ornament, and then approaches him fearfully. I will admit I was a little nervous too..... Wayne, Darling, NO BITING Aunt Maggie!!! Wayne bares his vampire teeth, and raises his vampire claws in an adorable scare, with the cutest little growl ever, laughing cheerfully as he chases Maggie through the trees, clearly thinking it's a game.

Meanwhile, Charlie bristles as he sees the glowing headlights of Vic's motorcycle up ahead, piercing through the descended dark. His annoyance is obvious, but you can almost sense his secret excitement, at having one last chance to kill her.

"Gunning for Mother of the Year?" Charlie scoffs, amused, looking hot as hell behind the Wraith, clenching the steering wheel, his head down, eyes narrowed and full of smouldering, black intent. It's a FANTASTIC face-off, as the Wraith screams down into the open field, Chris pressing HARD on the detonator, and the first bomb goes off in a spray of dirt and billowing smoke. Again here's where I found myself more than a little bit incredulous, wondering WHAT THE HELL IS THE WRAITH MADE OF!?!? I even giggled to myself, remembering what Chris had said. "I don't care if he's in a GOD DAMNED tank!!!" The Wraith remains unscathed, the gleaming black paint, not so much as scratched, as a second bomb, and then a third go off beneath it, to no detriment. Really!? The Wraith is NOT a tank, it's not even armoured, and while yes, it's a supernatural entity, it CANNOT DEFY THE LAWS OF PHYSICS!!! Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so don't want to see you harmed, but you put a blast beneath that undercarriage, it is going to send that car FLYING, flipping it over at the very least!!!

Back in the grove of trees, Wayne, still chasing Maggie, stops cold when Lou calls out to him.

"Dad..... is that you?" THANK GOD, I cry out tearfully, as Wayne recognizes him, and in a very human moment, runs and hugs his father so tight, snuggling his little head to his shoulder, Lou sighing relieved, as he holds his son at last. Happy tears become angry ones, however, and at first I was LIVID with Wayne, horrified as he sinks his tiny little fangs into Lou's shoulder, biting him hard. DON'T BITE YOUR FATHER!!!!! Why, Wayne, WHY!? But the second time I watched this episode, I noticed something soooo very important. Wayne doesn't show any signs of hostility, poses NO threat, UNTIL the first bomb goes off. This is NO coincidence. Charlie, you're too clever for your own good!!! I suspect, that once the transformation is complete, and the kids are connected to Father Christmas, they can sense when he's in danger, and their innate attack instinct takes over!!! Freaking brilliant, and yet also terrifying!!!

Vic curses under her breath, her foot slamming on the gas, helplessly, as the Triumph won't start, her knife failing her, as the Wraith, screams at her like a shot bullet, promising vengeance, and Charlie smirks, sadistic, knowing he's about to end this....... "Say Goodnight, Vic McQueen."

My heart clenches in my chest, barely breathing, the tears flooding my vision, watching through blurry eyes, knowing what he's going to do, before he even does it. Chris McQueen hurtles himself in front of Vic, selflessly sacrificing his life for hers, and the Wraith runs him over, crushing the back of his legs. as he collides with it. I screamed, I sobbed, and shook violently, stunned because my prayers had been answered....... Chris McQueen, has miraculously SURVIVED. He's alive...... he's alive...... I whisper, reassuring myself. While he's far from okay, surely suffering two crushed legs, unable to move, I'm just so happy to see him still breathing, still fighting.

"Perfect timing, Wayne," Charlie snickers, Vic screaming, "NO!" as Wayne hops back into the car. This is it, this is the moment, where it all goes so wrong. Charlie's holding all the cards, he's got Wayne in the car, he's subdued Vic and her father, neither of them can so much as move, and he listens, drinking in their anguished cries. All he had to do was drive away....... It was over. It was SUPPOSED to be over.

"Chris McQueen, a disappointment of a man, just like your father," Charles snarls, and I AM BEGGING him to stop, bawling, pleading frantic, my terrified voice shrill. "BABY NO!!!! BABY STOP!!! DON'T KILL CHRIS, PLEASE GOD, CHARLIE!!!!!" Tapping into a darkness, donning a heartlessness, unbecoming of our gentleman villain, Charlie looks Vic in the eye, as he does it, snapping Chris' neck with lethal force, killing him purely out of spite. The episode ends with her broken, mournful sob, and Chris' slain gaze, his eyes still full of tears, staring blankly at the camera.

My pain is deafening, my sorrow beyond all hope of any coherent expression as NOS4A2 suffers its greatest loss to date. It's an empty gesture, a callous act, uncharacteristic of the man that I love with all my heart, but who has hurt me something profound with this senseless murder. In what kind of CRUEL world, does an innocent man, who sacrifices himself for his daughter, who fought for eight years to be the kind of father she deserved, have to die, while an indecent evil like Bing Partridge gets to live!? Charlie, HOW could you!? This...... There's no honour in this. Charlie kills only as a last resort, and only in defense, he has a strict moral code, and is vehemently against violence without cause. This was unfeeling, unnecessary, and soulless. Yes, he knew Chris was a bad father from before, but surely in witnessing the valiant manner in which he'd flung himself in front of the car, with no thought for his own life, Charlie would have found him redeemed, he would have seen a father who'd do anything to protect his daughter, not so different from himself, and he would have felt SOMETHING!!!

Goodnight, Chris McQueen. You fought the good fight, you changed and made things right, and now at last you can find peace....... My heart is so heavy, I can't hold it, and crying here, I want him to know how wrong he was, thinking nobody would mourn him when he died. A thousand cry out, stricken with grief. Husband, Father, White Knight Redeemed, here lies Chris McQueen, a HERO who didn't die for nothing.........

#nos4a2 #nos4a2 review #chris mcqueen #vic mcqueen #linda mcqueen #wayne mcqueen #charlie manx #maggie leigh #bing partridge

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star-linedsoul · 4 years

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Happy Birthday, Erica Winchester!

Born June 17, 2016, my Supernatural OC Erica would be four years old today!

So, I thought I’d share a moodboard featuring the father-daughter relationship between Dean & Erica and was inspired to write a passage centered around the special day, which can be found beneath the Read More due to length.

It includes Daddy!Dean, fluff, & a cameo from the Colonel (because Sam & Dean should have kept him and you CANNOT change my mind!)!!!

This was written all in one sitting and given only a moderate proofread, so any mistakes are mine to be ashamed of later. 😅

I hope y’all enjoy!

As always, my ask box is open for questions or requests to be added to a taglist for Legacy!

Taglist: @wordspin-shares

This is perfection.

An open highway stretched between rolling pastures, the asphalt shimmering in the heat of the mid-June sun. A black Impala cruised over the blacktop, its rumbling engine accentuating the guitars wailing from the radio speakers as Dean Winchester drummed on the steering wheel in sync with the bass line. Sam Winchester was not reclined in the passenger seat, however. The car wasn’t cruising along a highway somewhere on the far side of the country, making its way toward a town in the midst of being terrorized by one of the many creatures that went bump in the night. So what gave Dean the idea that this casual drive through the farmlands of northern Kansas was the epitome of idealism?

He looked up at the rearview mirror with a grin. A baby-faced girl with curly blonde pigtails sat in the backseat, secure in a purple, high-backed booster. She kicked her feet in time with the rhythm of the music, weaving her head side to side as she babbled her own made-up lyrics from a mouth stained snow-cone blue while her hands were busy gently stroking the ears of the aged German Shepherd with its head in her lap.

“Erica Jo!” Bright green eyes immediately met their match in the rearview mirror as Dean called the girl’s attention. “What is today?”

She grinned, her teeth as stained as her lips. “My birthday!”

“And how old are you today?”

“Four!” she squealed, raising one hand as she turned her thumb in to display the appropriate number of fingers.

“That’s right!” Dean confirmed, hitting his brakes and his blinker simultaneously as the pastures on either side of the road were replaced with lines of business-fronts. “And do you know what that means?”

“We’re having a party!” Her attitude was infectious as she clapped her hands in delight.

Dean felt his own grin grow into a full smile as he turned onto a street lined with modest houses, seeking out a familiar blue two-story with a wide front porch that already had several cars parked in front. As he wheeled into the driveway, he spotted his brother standing in front of the garage, already lifting the door so that the Impala could be parked inside. Erica was unbuckling the car seat before Dean could shift into park.

“Uncle Sam!” The birthday girl threw herself from the car as he opened the door, giggling as she was swooped into long arms and lifted high in the air.

“There’s my favorite niece! Happy birthday, kiddo!” Sam brought Erica down and rested her on one hip, stepping away from the car to give Dean room to get out. “Perfect timing, man. We’ve got all of the decorations up and I’ve got the grill ready for you.”

“Hey, I’m just glad I got the easy job!” the elder Winchester returned. “Keeping the birthday girl occupied for the afternoon was cake. We had fun, didn’t we, Slugger?”

Erica grinned and nodded. “Are we gonna have cake now?”

“Soon,” Dean promised. He then looked around at the cars lining the driveway and the street. “It looks like just about everyone made it.”

“Almost,” Sam agreed. “We’re waiting on…never mind.”

The brothers watched as a yellow Gremlin turned the corner and slowed to a stop at the curb in front of the house. Sam suddenly found himself in possession of a particularly wiggly four-year-old who took off for the car as soon as he returned her to the ground.

“An’ Carlee!” Erica cried as she raced across the front yard as fast as her legs would carry her.

The redhead who had climbed from the driver’s seat of the car quickly crouched down to catch the little girl in a hug. “Hey! How’s my favorite Winchester?”

“What’s up, bi—best friends?” Charlie greeted the brothers as she walked across the lawn hand-in-hand with Erica, quickly correcting herself as she side-eyed the birthday girl.

Dean was grateful. Erica was in that stage where she was a sponge for new words or phrases, and he & her mother had already had the trouble of explaining why she couldn’t call her little brother a “son of a bitch” when he took her toys. It had not been an enjoyable experience, nor had the lecture he had received afterward about watching his mouth around the kids.

“Hi, Charlie,” Sam said, pulling the redhead in for a warm hug.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest with a mock pout. “I thought I was your favorite Winchester.”

“That was the past,” Charlie returned with a melodramatic sigh. “I’m ‘An Carlee’ now. The times have changed.” She dropped the act for a wide grin, joining Dean in a tight embrace before holding up a Star Wars-themed gift bag. “So where does this need to go?”

Dean quickly ushered everyone into the house, sending Charlie and his brother on to join the rest of their guests while he steered Erica into the kitchen. There, they found the most beautiful woman in the world arranging food trays.

“Mommy!” Erica cried, surging forward to wrap her arms around Cameron at the legs.

The blonde smiled as she stopped her work and wiped her hands on a towel before returning Erica’s embrace. “Hey! I thought that was you guys I heard…did you and Daddy have fun today?”

Dean could feel himself smiling like an idiot as he watched the exchange between two of the people most dear to him as Erica gushed about their afternoon of fishing, snow-cones, and the park while Cameron listened with rapt attention on their daughter. He still didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky.

He had thought the evening plans might be derailed when Erica protested changing into the dress Cameron had picked out for the princess-themed party, but Cameron had quickly cut off the threatened tantrum before it could begin, waiting for the strong-willed little girl to disappear up the stairs before looking at Dean and releasing a long-suffering sigh.

“Don’t look at me!” Dean said, holding his hands up in surrender as he leaned against the counter. “She gets her stubbornness from you.”

“In your dreams,” Cameron returned with a scoff as she approached him, cupping his face in her hands and looking him dead in the eye. “That is one hundred percent pure Winchester, my love. God help us when she’s sixteen.”

Dean smiled down at the woman who had so readily built the home he had always wanted but never felt he deserved. “Aren’t we lucky?”

“Every day we’re breathing,” Cameron returned easily, offering a wide smile of her own before pressing her lips against his.

Before Dean could consider taking her captive and sneaking away from their own daughter’s birthday party, Cameron had pulled away and was disappearing upstairs with the order to start the grill before their hungry guests began to mutiny.

The evening passed in a blur of laughs and smiles shared between the gathered crowd of family and friends-that-had-become-family. Erica had been quick to grab the spotlight once she joined the guest in her princess dress and crown—though Dean was quick to notice she was in sneakers rather than the glittery sandals Cameron had painstakingly picked out. They had learned there were some battles that simply weren’t worth fighting. The guest of honor danced between the throng, accepting their birthday wishes with the charismatic enthusiasm reserved for happy children. Dean was happy to fade into the background and let her shine. He retreated to a corner of the yard, sharing a beer with Sam and relishing in this moment he had rarely dared to imagine in the days when his life had been focused around the darkest corners of the world.

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” He ventured aloud, trusting his brother to know what he meant.

“I’d hoped we would,” Sam returned. “Even when we were at our worst, I hoped we’d find a way back.”

“And we did. We made it, Sammy. We’re home.”

Sam clinked the neck of his beer bottle against Dean’s. “Yeah. We are home.”

The soft rushing of little feet through the grass alerted the brothers to the fact that they were no longer alone. In the same motion, they shifted and crouched, catching the two girls recklessly charging forward and swinging them up in the air.

“Just what do you two think you’re doing?” Sam demanded, lightly shaking the girl in his grip. His daughter dissolved into a fit of giggles, so he looked to his brother. “Uh-oh. Mine seems to be broken. Can you get any information out of yours?”

“Mama says it’s time for cake!” Erica reported immediately, unafraid where she hung slack in her father’s grip just over his head.

“Cake? We don’t have any cake over here, do we Sammy?”

“Nope. Just raspberries!” Sam blew against little Mary’s cheek, making her shriek and laugh.

Erica groaned, kicking her legs as Dean still held her in the air. “No! You gotta light the candles!”

“Oh! Well, why didn’t you say so?” Dean swung her back down to the ground as Sam did the same with his daughter. Taking the pair by the hands, their moment clearly over, the brothers returned to the party.

Dean lit the four candles of the birthday cake as everyone gathered their phones and cameras. Stepping back beside Cameron as the singing began, he watched the shadows dancing across Erica’s excited face in the candlelight. She screwed her eyes shut as she made her wish. Dean relished in the knowledge that he’d been able to give her a life where she was able to make the normal wish a four-year-old made over their birthday candles: a pony, a house made of candy, or a trip to the moon.

This was perfect.

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chocobonugget · 4 years

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Fragile Tender Heart

Title: Fragile Tender Heart Rating: T Word Count: 8,061 Summary: Once upon a time, there was a prince with a teddy bear. And then, there was neither a prince nor a bear. The story of how a newborn chocobo nugget transforms into a beautiful gentlethem.

-1- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

The first time Yuffie holds her baby, she's exhausted, bathed in sweat, but she's still the most beautiful thing Cloud has ever seen. She's glowing, eyes bright and mirthful as ever despite their baby's painful, intensely arduous journey into the world. He smiles at her as the midwife counts the correct number of digits on hands and feet that are so unbelievably tiny and fragile. Cloud leans over and kisses her forehead, running his fingers through dark hair wet with perspiration, and he mutters something about how proud he is of her, how amazing she is, how much he loves her.

Yuffie just grins as the midwife takes the infant once again, to tend to him and making sure the rest of him is as healthy as his lungs and vocal cords seem to be, and she's clearly delirious with exhaustion when she laughs breathlessly and says, "Cloud, we did it. We made a chocobo nugget."

-2- "Mama's yukata is pwetty," Yuki says, squirming around in his lap.

"It is," he whispers, tapping at his son's mouth with an index finger, "but we have to be quiet until she finishes her speech. It's very important, and we don't want her to mess up."

It's not exactly fair to ask a three year old to sit completely still as his mother announces the newly-made agreement between her country and the reformed, rebuilt Shinra Company. It likely won't go over well, but she is the Empress, Her Imperial Majesty, the Daughter of Leviathan, and her people trust her not to let their home be ravaged by senseless war ever again. She says as much to them, reminding them that she has been actively in the fray since she was sixteen years old and has aimed to restore her country to its former glory since the war with Shinra ended. She loves and respects her father, she tells them, but she would rather die than allow her people's culture to be reduced and trivialized, to once again let an oppressor overtake them and turn their precious traditions into a show for tourists.

She makes a hell of an argument, and Cloud is quite proud of her for acknowledging Wutai's righteous anger at Shinra. She doesn’t dismiss their obvious concerns about this partnership, and makes a point of assuring them, not only that she feels exactly the same, but also that she knows Rufus Shinra personally and can tell when he’s lying. She tells them all the ways how she knows that he is serious about making peace between their two groups.

(In another life, she once told him, she might have married him to establish this same bond with her people, and can you even imagine that, Cloud, how gross would that be, he's like, a million years old, eww.)

Near the end of her speech, she very casually says, "If Rufus violates our agreement, I reserve the right, in addition to enacting the fines and sanctions and other political punishments that I’ve already talked about, to cut his dick off—like, the whole entire thing!—and shove it down his throat." And how can anyone can doubt her sincerity when she adds, "And then, I dunno, murder him or whatever"?

Yuki lets out a giggle, because he's never heard his mother threaten to kill anyone outside of a joke before and has no idea that, right now, she is completely serious. Cloud cannot help but hope that his son does not inherit his mother's sense of humor. "Daddy," Yuki says in the loud half-whisper so common to children his age, "I wanna be a empwess like Mama someday and wear pwetty yukatas."

Cloud hushes him again. "You'll be the Emperor when you're all grown up, Yuki, don't worry."

-1.1- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

She's smiling at them as she gingerly lays the infant in Yuffie's arms, obviously proud of both herself and of her patients, and she adds, "He will make a fine Emperor, Lady Yuffie, I can already tell."

"You say that about every baby you deliver, Midori," Yuffie mutters, and Cloud is the tiniest bit impressed that she still has the energy to be sarcastic after the ordeal she's just been through. "'He will make a fine priest, I can already tell.' 'She will make a fine wife, I can already tell.' When I was born, you probably told my mother the exact same thing; 'She will make a fine Empress, Lady Kasumi, I can already tell.'"

The midwife grins, a sharp sparkle in her eye, and replies, "I told your honored mother, I said, 'She will be a right terror, this one, I can already tell.' And I was right, wasn't I?"

"Hey, I didn't turn out so bad! Helped save the world a few times, made a bunch of good friends, got a crap ton of gil and cool materia. I even bagged myself a man without anyone's help, thank you very much."

"Well," the midwife murmurs, running her fingers over the few soft, black strands of hair that are already on the baby's head, "let's just hope this son of yours turns out to be more like his father, hmm?"

-3- It's somewhat common, he's been told, for little boys to go through a phase where they want to dress up in their mother's clothes. So he's not worried when he finds Yuki in their closet, digging past Cloud's pants and shirts to get to his mother's things.

What does worry him is the make-up smeared inexpertly on Yuki's face and hands and how the boy is transferring it to anything close to him at an alarming rate. Cloud snatches him up and pulls him away from Yuffie's more formal clothing before Yuki can christen it with the dark eyeshadow that makes his wife's eyes shine or the bright red lipstick she wears only when she's angry at or annoyed with her advisers. The boy protests, letting out a shriek as Cloud methodically cleans him up before he can do anymore damage.

Yuki squirms in his lap the whole time, small hands pulling at his father's arm and begging him to stop. "You're ruining our clothes, Yuki; I have to get this stuff off of you."

"No!" he screeches, digging his tiny, sharp nails into the back of Cloud’s hands. "No, I wanna be pwetty like mama! Stop it!"

"Boys don't wear make-up, Yuki!" he scolds, and his voice is much louder than he intends it to be.

And it's so strange because the wriggling mess of a child in his arms immediately goes still. Yuki looks up at him, and while Cloud takes the lack of movement as an opportunity to finish cleaning the boy up, Yuki murmurs, "But I'm not a boy."

Cloud's immediate response is a distracted, "Of course you are," which causes a round of silence in addition to the stillness. He manages to wipe off the last vestiges of make-up from the boy’s hands and face, working quickly before his son can start the wiggling and the protesting again. But Yuki is still quiet when the work is done, and for a long moment, Cloud is haunted by a feeling of dread, knowing it was a mistake to negate his son's feelings right away like that. He remembers people dismissing how he felt as a child. He knows exactly how many scars he still carries from being told that how he felt was unimportant or wrong.

It’s important to him that he apologizes for yelling. He never got that as a child, and he wants things to be different for his son. He’s not perfect, but he doesn’t have to be. He just has to be able to admit when he makes mistakes and do better next time.

Yuki only shrugs, jumping up from his lap and bouncing toward the door. "You're right, I am a boy."

Okay, wow, big sigh of relief for that. It doesn't seem like his son is permanently harmed or anything. He would have to be more careful about controlling his temper in the future, though. Cloud never wants Yuki to feel like he couldn't talk to him about anything at all whenever he needed to.

"But," his son trills, elongating the vowel in the exact same way his mother does right before she attempts something mischievous, "maybe I'll be a girl tomorrow!"

Cloud shakes his head. That's all it is, then. A game.

Nothing to worry about, right?

-4- The summer after Yuki turns 5, Cloud wins a teddy bear for him at a festival booth. He calls it Nanko, despite his parents telling him that isn't a real name, and it immediately becomes his favorite toy. He goes nowhere without it, and he's seen by the public with it so much that the bear soon becomes an unofficial member of the royal family. That brand and style of teddy bear gains an immense popularity, and Yuffie cracks a joke one evening about her son being a fabulous trendsetter at such a young age. "Just like his mother," she sighs, dropping a kiss onto Yuki's forehead.

The boy is sleepy, soft and pliable in her arms, and not really paying attention to anything. He's fighting sleep like it's a master tonberry walking toward him with the intent to kill shining bright in its eyes, and Cloud can't help but smile. "We should probably put him to bed."

A muffled protest issues from the vague area near Yuffie's lap that his son occupies, but they both dismiss it. When he's tucked in, Nanko held tight in his arms, the boy is so adorable that Cloud has to take a picture. He can't not do it. He's physically incapable of not memorializing this moment in time, of not getting hard proof of how his child is quite possibly the cutest thing to ever exist.

As they are leaving the room, Yuki mumbles, "You didn't say night to Nanko."

"Good night, Nanko," Yuffie murmurs.

"Daddy too...."

Cloud smiles. "Good night, Nanko."

More content, his son curls on his side and snuggles into his bed, letting out a soft sigh. "He says night too."

-1.2- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

Well, she's not technically wrong.

-5- A few days later at breakfast, Yuki says, "Nanko wants to eat chocolate chip pancakes!"

"Well, tell him we're out of pancake mix," Yuffie replies.

"Her."

"Hmm?"

"Nanko wants you to call her 'her'."

"Why? I thought Nanko was a boy?"

"Nah," Yuki replies, holding the bear out in front of him and considering it very seriously. "Nanko is a girl today."

-6- "Daddy! You keep calling Nanko a girl! Nanko is a boy, and he wants you to talk to him that way! Why are you being so stupid about this? When Nanko is a boy, you call him a boy, and when Nanko is a girl, you call her a girl! Got it?!"

-1.3- "It's a boy," the midwife says triumphantly, the pride of helping to birth her country's next emperor clear on her smiling face.

(If only it were that simple.)

-7- "Don't ever let this thing out of your sight again," he tells Yuffie, presenting the newly-washed teddy bear to his wife. Yuki lost it two weeks ago, and the level of agitation and worry that the boy has exhibited over the disappearance of his favorite toy is very unsettling. He's been restless and inattentive, unable to sleep at night, and his emotions have been incredibly volatile. At times, he's seemed withdrawn, given to very sudden bouts of anger or weeping, but nothing either of them does can console him. Cloud had nearly been at his wit's end when he happened to catch a glimpse of the distinctive brown and tan plaid ribbon that was tied around the stuffed animal's neck sticking out from beneath a piece of furniture.

"Absolutely not," she sighs, taking the bear from him. "Come on, I think we'd better get these two back together as soon as possible. Not sure I can take another night of having a wiggly chocobo nugget in my bed waking me up with another nightmare."

"I know," Cloud agrees, taking her hand. "I feel bad that he's so upset, but it's getting exhausting to deal with him."

There's a long period of silence as they walk toward Yuki's suite, and just before they enter the hall that leads to his front room, Yuffie chuckles. "You wanna take a bet on whether Nanko's a boy or girl today?"

-1.4- "It's a boy," the midwife says with a smile.

-8- When Yuki sees the bear, a grin splits his face wide open. "Nanko, I missed you so much! Mommy, where did you find her?"

-9- Years go by, and Cloud nearly forgets that his son's bear is still around. It sits high on a shelf now, dusty and untouched for nearly a decade. He tries to convince Yuki to get rid of it, but the boy refuses. It's odd, isn't it, for a teenager to want to hang onto a childhood toy?

But if a little teddy bear is really that important to him, Cloud's not going to force him to get rid of it.

-10- The smell of smoke wakes him in the early hours of the morning. Not immediately seeing the source as his eyes quickly scan the room for flames, he turns to wake his wife, only to find that she is already climbing out of bed and stumbling toward the Conformer. It's the third time in as many months that they've been confronted with this scenario before, and each and every time, the culprits have attempted to torch a new section of the palace. No one is exactly sure who is to blame or why they're doing it, as the preferred method thus far has been Molotov cocktails thrown through windows that have opened to let in the cool summer breeze at night. They've since ordered all windows shut and locked at all times.

It forces the criminals' hands a bit, and this time, they actually have to break in to set the fire. Fortunately, he and Yuffie catch them before they can make their retreat, two men and a woman dressed in all black like some kind of ridiculous play on the stereotypical ninja's garb. Yuffie hands them over to the guards, bloodied from the beating they'd given them, and though she doesn't exactly cut an intimidating image in her silky pajama shorts and pink crop top, her shuriken and fists speak for her. The fire is put out before it can seriously damage anything else, and everyone in the room save for the three people in custody breathe a collective sigh of relief.

But even still, the would-be arsonists don't seem entirely disappointed to have failed their self-appointed mission yet again or, for that matter, to have been caught. The woman stares at him as he walks by, and he can't help but notice the smug grin on her face. He pauses, considers her for a long moment, but before he can demand an explanation for her oddly good mood, he detects the faintest hint of smoke in the air once again.

A scream shatters the silence of the room. One of the guards shouts, "The prince!"

By the time Cloud turns toward the long hallway leading to his son's suite of rooms, Yuffie is already halfway down it. He catches up to her as she's reaching for the door handle, but even as her fingers are closing over the knob, he can tell the knob is burning hot. She lets out a curse and yanks her hand away. He tries to break the door down, but the wood has expanded with the heat of the flames he can hear raging behind it, and there's no use of trying to get in this way. The only other option is to try and break through the window in his bedroom.

The idea occurs to them simultaneously, and while they run outside and around the enormous building to find the correct window, Cloud prays that they're not too late. The smile on the woman's face is the only thing he can see clearly in his mind, and it does nothing to dampen the worry clouding his thoughts. They arrive to see their son standing in front of the window, pounding at it to no avail.

"Move!" Yuffie screams, holding up her shuriken so he can see it. "Yuki, get out of the way!"

The drapes beside him are suddenly ablaze, and although he hasn't moved at all--is probably too frightened to think clearly and without a safe place to get away from the fire--Yuffie launches her weapon at the panes of glass.

The next few minutes are all a blur. Cloud grabs his son out of the broken window and runs with him thrown over his shoulder. Someone hauls out an Ice materia and extinguishes the fire. Yuki is crying, and when Cloud sits him back down, the boy screams in pain and falls to the ground. It's only then that Cloud notices the burn on his foot and ankle. Someone is there almost immediately with a Restore, and in the blink of an eye, most of the burn is gone. A potion will take care of the rest of the wound, but later.

The guards have followed them outside, their prisoners in tow, and the woman starts cackling when she catches sight of the chaos before her. "It's too bad," she yells. "Even if nothing else, I had hoped we could exterminate the vermin from Leviathan's sacred household. His own daughter has betrayed him! She's contaminated herself by fucking a man who belongs to Shinra--" She pauses long enough to spit in Cloud's direction, "--and she had the audacity to taint the holy blood of her family by producing that half-breed spawn with him. Lord Godo should have forced the vile thing from her belly before it drew its first breath!"

Cloud has seen Yuffie kill before. He's seen her ruthlessly take down a horde of attacking monsters. He's seen her defeat Shinra troops and members of DeepGround in battle like it's nothing. The only context in which he's ever seen her take a life, however, is self-defense. This is most assuredly not self-defense. This is angry and rough and uncontrolled. This is Yuffie screaming and grunting with the effort as her shuriken lands home again and again, ripping open flesh and tearing through viscera in an instant. This is Yuffie not caring that her skin and clothing are covered in a sickening amount of blood and gore.

This is Yuffie taking pleasure in murder for the sake of revenge, and it's the most frightening thing he's ever seen in his life. The only thing he can do is pull Yuki into his chest so he doesn't have to see it himself, cover his ears to block out the sound of metal ripping through clothing into warm flesh and flinging hot, red blood everywhere. A few droplets land on Cloud's face and the back of Yuki's shirt.

Yuffie sinks to her knees with a grunt next to the woman's remains, and even at a distance, Cloud can see how much she’s shaking. She throws the weapon away from her and barks out an execution order for the two men. The guards only look at each other and shrug before complying, snapping the mens' necks in the practiced, efficient manner he remembers seeing so many officers in Public Security at Shinra trying to perfect.

They quickly survey the extent of the physical damage to the palace, and they find the body of a fourth accomplice in the corner of Yuki's bedroom. The corpse is pinned to the wall by Yuki's sword, skin black and blistered from the fire.

"He tried to suffocate me," the boy explains. "I got away from him, but then he threw a bottle at the other wall and it caught on fire. And I didn't know what else to do, so I just..."

"It's okay, Yuki," he says, running his hand over his hair and hugging him close. "You had to protect yourself."

"I could have incapacitated him, though. I didn't have to kill him. I'm a ninja. Ninja are trained to--"

"Sometimes, Yuki," he interrupts, "just sometimes, just once in a great while, it's kill or be killed. They took that choice away from you when they trapped you like that. Don't blame yourself."

First kills always weigh on the heart like a heavy stone, and Cloud could only hope that his son will recover well from this horrific event. He is a strong kid, and Cloud is confident that he will eventually be alright.

Until, that is, Yuki discovers the charred remains of Nanko in a pile of debris that is taken from the room.

-11- "My Lady, I'm sorry," says Yuki's exasperated tutor, "but the Prince is acting very strangely during his lessons as of late. He has become very argumentative, and the obvious effort he used to put into his work is gone now."

Yuffie sighs and glances over at Cloud. "This is all your fault, you know. He inherited your wild adolescent chocobo genes. We'll have to chain him to a wall to make sure he doesn't try to join SOLDIER."

Cloud rolls his eyes. "...she says, as if she didn't run away from home around this age and join an eco-terrorist group."

Yuffie shrugs. "Whatever. We'll talk to him."

And talk they do, several times when the issues never seem to be resolved, but they can't get down to the heart of the matter. When they ask what has changed recently to cause him not to enjoy school anymore, he only shrugs. "Dunno. Just boring, I guess."

Over the course of the next three months, the apathy worsens, and eventually, Yuki becomes combative about going to school, insisting that he has been taught everything he could possibly need to know, refusing to go sit in a room and be talked at for hours on end, as he describes it. One day, he even goes so far as to push his tutor out of the way when the man stands in front of the doorway, blocking the only exit that Yuki has. He had run outside and up the mountain, the tutor tells them frantically, and if that's the case, then there's only one place he can possibly be.

Ever since he was a tiny child, Yuki has been fascinated with the cave at the top of Da-Chao. He and Yuffie have told him the story of how a fire raged inside for hundreds of years, until they found the scales of Leviathan and extinguished the flames. He has always been enthralled by the scorch marks on the stone walls, and he would often ask to be told the story over and over again. Now, he hid in the very back of the cave and let his thoughts wander. It helped calm him down, he would say, to give him a quiet place to think about his life and everything that happened to him.

So Cloud and Yuffie climb the mountain, and they do indeed find their son inside the cave. He stands as soon as he sees them, asking, "Am I in trouble?"

"Why would you be in trouble?" Yuffie asks sarcastically, crossing her arms. "You just assaulted someone. No big deal, right?"

Cloud holds out his hand. “You'll be in less trouble if you willingly come back down and finish your lessons today.”

He does, but his obvious restlessness about his education doesn't lessen at all. His grades continue to hover barely above a passing mark, but nothing they do, no punishment, no encouragement or reward, no amount of time spent talking about why school has suddenly become so abhorrent to him or about what they could do to make it less so, makes the situation any less bleak. One of them suggests moving him to a public school, where the presence of other children his age might help him out of his funk, and although Yuffie's advisers flip their collective shits about the decision, within a week he is enrolled and attending a school that's less than a ten minute walk from the palace.

The improvement in his grades is neither dramatic nor immediate, but when their son comes home with a smile most days and doesn't fight them every morning on whether or not he needs to get out of bed, it's well worth the adjustment.

-1.5- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

-12- Cloud suffers from the occasional sleepless night, and it's never really bothered him. Most people take spells of insomnia, whether due to stress or illness or anything else, so it's not exactly abnormal. Usually, he self-medicates with a glass or two of wine and a cake pop binge, but it's not helping at all tonight. He's scared to pour a third glass, as he and Yuffie have an extremely important meeting in the morning and being hungover isn't the best idea when they're meeting with the leader of a rebel faction who could easily instigate his followers into a death-match against the Empress's army and win.

What he decides to do in the end is watch television. Wutai has some of the craziest programs he's ever seen, and at night, he can't say they get any less weird. But if he's very lucky, which he is tonight, sometimes the wild and crazy bright-flashing-lights sort of game shows are foregone in favor of an eastern movie. It's dubbed over, of course, but his wutai is more than strong enough by now that he doesn't have any trouble understanding the fast-paced sentences. He does ponder over a few of the translation choices, but it's all a part of the late-night TV experience.

He's so deeply entrenched in his second movie that he doesn't really hear the door open. Or rather, he does hear it but doesn't think anything of it. It's not quite 4 in the morning, and that's around the time when the guards change shifts, so he's not worried. If one of them forgot something in the house or simply wants to take a shortcut through the kitchen to get back home, he's not going to say anything.

The odd thing about it is...why aren't any of the other guards coming through the house? There's never just one poking around during a shift change. Usually it's all of them coming in at once, a dozen people exchanging information and gossip and news and anything and everything else. Right now, Cloud can only hear one set of footsteps making their way very slowly and deliberately up the hallway, and that cannot be good. Because from the way the sound reverberates, whoever this is is trying to sneak into...

Cloud jumps up as fast as he can and races back to his son's bedroom, the memory of the fire and of Yuki's injuries and his wife's bloodthirsty, determined face springing to mind. He can't let anyone else hurt Yuki, he just can't, he can't lose anyone else ever again, not like last time, please Aerith please, please, please, just let Yuki be okay, let his son be okay--!

Yuki is fine. He's covered in a mixture of body paint, sweat, and glitter, but he's okay. He jumps when Cloud barges into the room, which is more than understandable considering he's in the middle of undressing and has exposed the hot pink lipstick smear someone has pressed to his stomach. “Dad, stop it!” he hisses, yanking his shirt back over his chest and turning away very quickly. “Just get out!”

He does, but there will be no letting anything he saw go without comment and explanation. He waits for a bit and knocks at the door again. “Yuki, I'm not leaving.”

After almost ten minutes, the door is finally opened for him. Yuki is clean once again and has changed into his pajamas, but there's a distinct scent in the air that lingers on him. Cloud can't quite figure out what it is. He sits down beside the boy, intent on talking about why he found him sneaking back into his rooms at this time of night and where on Gaia he had been to get so filthy, but the stench knocks him over, takes his breath away. All of a sudden, he's back in Nibelheim, 16 years old and watching helplessly from inside a body he can no longer control as he's dumped into a tank filled with mako and left to die. He shakes the memory from his head, but the scent is still there and it's coming from Yuki.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Cloud notes.

Those dark eyes, exactly like his mother's, look away from him and roll. “So?”

“So,” Cloud replies, worried and disgusted at the same time with a hint of anger roiling underneath his skin, “there's only one reason for that.”

“You're so clever, aren't you?”

“This is serious, Yuki! How long have you been using mako?”

Recreational mako use was nothing new, but for obvious reasons, it was thought to be a thing of the past. Apparently not. Cloud couldn’t say he’d never done it himself as a teenager in Midgar, where tiny vials of the stuff could be purchased on nearly every street corner both above and below the Plate so long as there was no one from Public Security on patrol. It gave the regular folks of the world a small taste of what it felt like to be a SOLDIER, a high that included temporarily enhanced senses and a ton of synthetic confidence. It wore off fairly quickly, and first-time users were often left with nausea and a killer headache after they crashed.

Yuki didn’t seem to be exhibiting those symptoms, so Cloud could only assume it wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

Not much was known about the side effects of what was effectively a self-administered mako injection not dissimilar to the ones SOLDIERs received at Shinra. They were much weaker, of course, but most off-label uses before this involved mixing other illegal substances with mako to enhance the high. This stuff was diluted, sure, but it was still mako, straight from the Planet. Who the hell knew what this could do to a person’s body with prolonged exposure?

And his own son is shooting it into his veins, slowly destroying himself from the inside out. Cloud is determined to put a stop to this even if that means locking Yuki away from the world until the storm has passed. He will not let his son waste his life like this. He will not take the chance that Yuki has inherited his susceptibility toward mako poisoning and could be only one high away from slipping into a coma, or worse.

Yuki shrugs, still looking away from him. “Why do you even care?”

“Maybe because I'm your father,” he replies, “and I don't want to see anything bad happen to you.”

His son scoffs. “It was just a party, Dad. Not a big deal.”

“No, it is a big deal,” he counters, taking hold of his son's shoulders and forcing Yuki to face him. “Do you have any idea how dangerous mako is? What it could do to you one day? You're fourteen years old, Yuki; this stuff could kill you.”

Yuki still isn't meeting his eyes. “Fuck you, okay?” he grunts, shaking himself out of Cloud's arms. He stands up and takes a few steps away. “I just wanted to feel like a normal kid for once in my life.”

Cloud ignores the swearing. He can tell they are getting close to the root of the problem, and that's more important. He'd said “normal kid”; is this about rebelling from the expectations and pressure put on him as the prince? Yuffie's counselors and advisers are sometimes quite harsh with Yuki under the pretense of preparing him for inheriting the throne. In reality, Cloud knows that at least some of it is due to the fact that he is half-eastern. Yuki will be the first mixed-race emperor Wutai has ever seen, and none of the officials can really agree if the country is ready for him or not. They themselves aren't ready for him, because most of them still cling so tightly to the traditional aristocrat's idea that non-Wutai are somehow beneath them, and that mixed blood is tainted.

He remembers the speech one of the extremists gave the night Yuki was attacked, and although he hasn't heard anything of the sort with his own ears, he has heard rumors from some of the residential workers that certain of Yuffie's advisers had been disappointed that his son survived. It's no secret that they all hate Cloud, but being unable to take it out on him directly, they poke, prod, question, and attempt to forcibly mold Yuki into the kind of ruler they want him to be, to make sure that his undesirable eastern heritage doesn't interfere with his ability to competently govern his people.

Cloud can't say he doesn't empathize. “Normal kids don't do drugs, Yuki.”

The boy lets out a loud grunt, slamming his fists down on his desk. His back is still turned to Cloud as he screams, “But normal kids know if they're a boy or girl!”

The silence that follows that statement is embarrassingly long, and it takes Cloud much longer than it should to understand what his son is saying, to parse the words and formulate an intelligent response. A boy or a girl? What in the world does gender have to do with anything? His mouth is hanging open slightly, and he's peripherally aware of Yuki turning towards him and glaring at him, the sharp gaze falling heavy and intrusive on his skin as his son awaits some kind of response. When he can form words, all Cloud can manage is, “So...you’re trans?”

Yuki's eyes drop, and his entire form goes slack as he sits down on top of his desk. “Yeah? No. I don't know!” A sigh escapes him, and when the boy looks back up at him, his dark eyes are shining with tears. “I don't know, okay?”

This is serious, but Cloud has absolutely no idea what he's supposed to do. Comfort his son, of course, but beyond that? No idea. So he does the only thing he can think to do and hugs Yuki. “Hey, nugget, it's okay,” he whispers into the boy's hair. “Don't cry, alright? You don't have to have yourself figured out just yet. Nobody's gonna pressure you to be anything you're not. Just take some time and—”

“Everybody pressures me,” Yuki interrupts. “Maybe you don't notice it, but I do! Everybody calls me a guy, calls me the prince, or calls me your son, and sometimes it feels so wrong that I just want to punch them! But then it's like...other times, I don't care, you know? It feels okay to be called a boy. But it makes me so frustrated, because where do I get off being angry at people when I don't even know what I am?”

Cloud is completely out of his depth here, but he can't let it show. He can't let his discomfort show, lest Yuki take it as a sign that his struggle is unfounded. He can't let Yuki think that he's being rejected, that this moment of uncertainty is grounds for any amount of distrust or hatred from his parents. Because it's just the opposite. Right now more than ever, Yuki needs him, needs strength from his father to make it through this without breaking down, and he's not going to let his child suffer alone just because he's unsure of himself, unsure if he even can help, unsure if he'll only make things worse. The pressure to be a perfect father was immense, but Yuki didn't need him to be perfect. Yuki just needed him to be there, to hold him when he thinks the world's coming to an end, and to make sure he knows he's strong enough to come through it.

What he decides to do, when Yuki has mostly stopped crying, is to take to the worldwide network. Cloud turns on the boy's laptop and opens up a browser page to the Moogle search engine. He coaxes Yuki onto his lap and tells him to type and search, that they'd try to find an answer together. And he does, and they spend hours there reading articles and watching videos and, most importantly, talking about what Yuki thinks about everything he's reading.

Eventually they come across a page that lists a variety of different gender identities. It begins with cisgender, which Yuki is vehemently sure he is not, and transgender, which they've already marked off the list as well. Then there's non-binary, a term they'd encountered earlier that Yuki had taken a liking to. As they read on, though, they discover the word genderqueer, and a few minutes later, genderfluid.

Yuki's eyes light up. Cloud can almost feel how excited he is with every word he reads. He gets through to the end of the paragraph and says, “That's it, Dad. That's me. It's—that's exactly what I feel like.”

“Okay,” Cloud replies, feeling incredibly relieved himself. He can't even begin to imagine what his son feels like right now. He's grinning ear to ear, and it's the most beautiful thing Cloud has ever seen. “Genderfluid. Alright. Have you been thinking anymore about pronouns yet? Not that you have to decide right now, but—”

“No, yeah, I think...I think I like 'they.' Yeah. 'They' and 'them.' That feels pretty good.”

Cloud nods, but before he can say anything else, before he can assure Yuki that changing his mind later is always an option if he needs to, Yuki's stomach growls audibly. He can't help but laugh. He's getting a little hungry himself. Glancing at the clock, he notices that it's nearly 7am already. “Hey, you know what we should do? We should take my bike and go down to that 24-hour diner for breakfast. Just you and me.”

Yuki's eyes glisten with mischievous pleasure. He looks exactly like his mother. “Mom will kill you when she finds out we went without her.”

He gives his child a wink. “I won't tell if you won't.”

-1.6- "It's a boy."

-13- Although he does his best, it's hard at first to overwrite the part of his brain that thinks of his child as "he." He's honestly pretty bad at remembering to use Yuki's pronouns in the beginning, but eventually he starts catching himself before the "he" can escape his mouth and replaces it with "they." It's awkward at first, because every time he messes up, he can't help but think how hurt Yuki must be, can't help but cringe and hope that this mistake won't be the last straw for his child, the moment when they give up on ever being accepted by their own family.

A few months after the initial introduction of his child's preferred pronouns, he sits Yuki down after a particularly tense and silent dinner and apologizes. "I know it's important, and I really am trying, I promise. It's just hard sometimes."

Yuki nods, but he--no, they--won't look at him. "Yeah."

"Are we still okay?" Cloud asks, putting an arm around his child's shoulders.

"...yeah."

"You don't sound too sure."

The silence hangs between them for a long time, which tells Cloud that, no, they're not still okay. There's something else Yuki wants to get off their chest, and even though Cloud wants them both to clear the air about everything, the choice to speak up has to be Yuki's. If not tonight, then maybe another day, but now that Cloud knows something is bothering them, he can't let it fester for very long.

Just as he's about to press a kiss to their forehead and tell them they don't have to talk right now, they whisper, "I miss Nanko, that's all."

Cloud pauses, uncertain of how to proceed. The subject of Nanko is a touchy one, hard to maneuver without making Yuki intensely upset or viciously angry. He tests the waters with, "Nanko was very important to you. Makes sense you would miss them."

"I guess."

"But..." and he can only hope as he runs his fingers over his child's hair that this doesn't end badly, "...you don't need Nanko anymore, right?"

Yuki shrugs. "Guess not."

"And if you hadn't lost them--"

"You used to make fun of Nanko."

There it is. This is the source of Yuki's discomfort, and Cloud has been trying to work out what he would say about this subject for months now. "I did," he answers, meeting their eyes even though it’s the last thing he wants to do. He wants to say more, to explain everything and apologize again all at once, but he pauses to let Yuki finish expressing himself. Themself.

"You and Mom used to make fun of them right in front of me. And then you laughed when I got angry."

"Yes."

"You thought Nanko's gender stuff was a joke."

"I did."

"So...do you think I'm a joke too?"

Cloud's heart starts pounding. He can't just say, "Oh no, of course not, Yuki!" and move on, because that won't help anything. And pointing out that Cloud had been the one to help him find the terminology and the language with which he could express his gender identity, although strictly speaking the truth, is bound to only make things worse. Cloud has done severely wrong by his child, and it's not something he can ever fix. Unintentionally, he's left scars on Yuki's heart that will maybe fade over the years, but they will never go away. He can only take ownership of his mistakes, admit them instead of dismissing Yuki's very valid fears and concerns, and focus on changing his behavior in the future.

So he hugs Yuki close, lays a kiss on their forehead, and says, "I'm sorry for the things I did and the way I acted when you were little. There was no excuse for it. If I could go back and change it, I would, Yuki, in a heartbeat. But I can't. Instead, all I can do is make sure I respect your identity from now on. And I do. I know that sexuality can be fluid; it only makes sense that gender can be too, and I wish I had realized that before. You're not a joke, nugget. Don't let anyone ever treat you like you are, especially not your mom or me. All I ask is that you continue to be patient with us while we relearn how to think about you, and that you never, ever let us get away with misgendering you. Because if we're allowed to, then your friends will think they are, too, and so will your teachers, and Mom's advisers, and the entire country. You'll be in charge one day, and I don't want you to have to fight to be respected then. So start fighting right now, and begin at home."

He can't quite see Yuki's face, but five minutes goes by very slowly as neither speak, and when they raise their head from his shoulder, there is a small damp spot in his shirt. "Thanks, Dad," Yuki says.

"I love you, nugget," he responds, and although Yuki just nods on his--their--way out of the room, Cloud feels like a weight has been lifted off of him.

He hopes Yuki feels it too.

-14- "So, I've been thinking, right? About what my legal titles will be when I inherit the throne. I need you and mom to go to bat for me with the advisers, because I'm not just a son of Leviathan, you know? But it's too wordy to say 'sometimes a son, sometimes a daughter of Leviathan,' that's a crap title. So this is what I came up with instead: 'Their Imperial Majesty, Kisaragi Yuki, Child of Leviathan, Sacred Ninja of Da-Chao, and Rightful Emprex of Wutai.' Will they go for Emprex, you think? I mean, I could use 'Ruler' instead, but I kind of like the sound of Emprex. It was a pain in the ass to get them to call me Heir, and I guess I'm willing to compromise about Emprex, but at the same time, I should get the final say, right? It'll be my country, and it's my title. Why can't they just use gender-neutral language all the time, anyway? Wouldn't it make things so much simpler in the long run?"

-1.7- "It's a boy."

No.

Yuki is a healthy newborn, perfect and tiny and the most beautiful thing on the Planet, and that's all that Cloud has ever asked for. Son or daughter, neither or both--it doesn't matter. They are his child, and he will love them with everything in his entire being until the day he dies.

-15- For their 17th birthday, Cloud buys Yuki a teddy bear. Well, he can't actually go out and make the purchase himself, because his health doesn't allow it, but he commissions Yuki's bodyguard Jun to do it, gives her explicit instructions on what he wants, and tells her not to bother with anything that isn't perfect. In the end, she can't find anything to suit his specifications, and so he calls Tifa, still living in Edge, to see if she can help him. He can hear her smile when he tells her what he wants, and she lets him know that a specialty shop recently opened in town that lets people custom-build a stuffed animal. As long as she can find the right kind of ribbon, it should be relatively simple.

The finished product arrives two days before the party. Cloud opens the box to inspect its contents, and he hasn't been this happy in months. He undoes the ribbon around the bear's neck, attaching the small charm he bought weeks ago, and ties it back.

It's perfect.

Later on that night, after the main part of the party is over, after the food has been eaten, after the advisers and counselors and public officials and other Important People of Wutai have offered up (as Yuki calls it) their “politically-correct, ass-kissing gifts”, the Imperial family has their own celebration. Cloud has managed, with some help from Yuffie, to get up from his wheelchair and have a seat next to his child. The nurse assigned to him for the day protests, but he waves her concerns off. Yuki looks happy to see him up and about, but there's a certain sadness behind it. Everyone in this room knows it's only a matter of time before he dies, but none of them are willing to admit it.

His doctors tell him that he shouldn't give up fighting, but he knows he won't make it to Yuki's next birthday, so he has to make this one count.

He saves his gift for last, and the emotion that crosses Yuki's face as they unwrap it gives him chills. Tears well up in their eyes as they grip the teddy bear in their hands. Cloud puts an arm around his child, and they melt into his side, unable to control their emotions.

The bear is as identical to Nanko as possible, with one change. The ribbon around the bear's neck is now a color gradient, rather than the neutral-palette plaid of the original. The colors might not seem significant—pink fading into purple merging into blue—but Yuki immediately understands. And the charm Cloud has attached to the ribbon is unique as well: an emblem that blended the stereotypical male and female symbols with an infinity sign.

When Yuki is nearly composed again, Cloud asks, “Any thoughts about a name?”

Yuki hums thoughtfully, holding the bear out in front of them and considering it very seriously. “I think...Jiikyu.”

Cloud smiles, immediately recognizing the source of the name. Jiikyu, as in GQ. Genderqueer. “That's an awesome name,” he says, laying a kiss on their forehead.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You're welcome, Yuki.”

#;;yuki #;;mom #;;dad #;;nanko #;;headcanon #;;backstory

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misssunflowersandsangria · 5 years

Text

My Baby You’ll Be

Ino

Sai tried to take deep breaths as Ino held tightly onto his hand. Sakura had just stepped out after checking her vitals. She still had time before she needed to start pushing, so right now his job was trying to make her as comfortable as possible.

“Aren’t you excited? In just a few hours our baby will be here.” Ino asked with a bright smile. Even while in the throes of labor she was still so dazzling. He just nodded wordlessly worried that if he began to speak the panic that he was trying to repress would come forward.

“Sai, honey are you okay?” She asked her husband worried making him feel worse. Here she was about to bring their child into the world and he was freaking out.

“Yes, of course.”

She frowned shifting to look directly at him. “Don’t lie to me.”

He sighed yet again, he knew that he couldn’t hide anything from her.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” He finally replied looking away, not wanting to see the disappointment in her sky blue eyes.

Ino looked at him genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if I can be the father this child needs. I didn’t have a father figure. I raised myself, how can I raise a son?” He felt the anxiety starting to surface.

“It’s natural to be nervous but I know that you can do this.” She tried to assure him.

He looked at her defeated and helpless. “How?”

“Because I know you and I know how wonderfully and deeply you can love. I’m scared too-”

“Don’t be you’ll be an incredible mother.” He told her cutting off her negative thoughts.

“How do you know that?” He looked at her directly.

“Because I know you.” His wife was incredible and excelled in all that she did. She was meant to be a mother and would be an amazing one. It seemed preposterous that she would question herself.

Ino’s hand came to gently rest against his cheek so that he couldn’t look away. “And I know you. Sai, you have to trust me. My mother died when I was younger so I only really had my father. It was tough sometimes especially when I just really needed a woman but my dad was the absolute best. I know what it means to have a good father. I would never have committed myself to you or started a family with you if I didn’t think that you could be an incredible father. Our baby is lucky to have you.” Sai couldn’t help but match her tears but nodded kissing her softly.

“Thank you my sweet Light. Once again you have pulled me from a dark place and put so much faith in me. I know that we will be okay because we have each other and soon this little one. I will do my absolute best for the both of you. I love you Beautiful.”

He knew that he still had some fears and insecurities that would pop up from time to time but he trusted his wife. If she could believe in him, then maybe he could believe in himself.

“I love you too Sai.”

Shika

Temari smiled watching her son run around and chase the deer. It was quite seldom that she and her little Fawn had time to themselves and so she took advantage of that opportunity. They began their day early with some training and now they were taking a break by feeding the deer and resting under a large tree.

“Mama?” Shikadai came over to rest his head on Temari’s lap his bright green eyes looking up at her.

She gently ruffled his hair. “Yes, my little Fawn?”

“What was grandpa like?” The question threw her for a loop. He had always been an inquisitive child and would ask her and Shikamaru questions that seemed beyond his years. They had always tried to be honest and factual with him. He was intelligent and if they didn’t answer his questions he’d find a way. This question about his lineage was not something that she expected. Although, she remembered that recently he’d found some old pictures and wondered if that is what inspired this question.

“Well, your Grandpa was a strong leader. He was well respected and bright, just as smart or even smarter than your father. He was an incredible strategist and led the Nara clan for many years.”

He shook his head confusing her. “No mama, what was your dad like? Grandpa Rasa?”

Now she didn’t know what to say. She had long come to terms with her relationship with her father. While the reanimation jutsu was incredibly horrific it did allow her and her siblings to heal by facing their father once again. She was thankful that Gaara had a chance to heal from his old scars. She didn’t want to skew her son's opinion of the old Kazekage. She had forgiven her father for his mistakes but it did not mean that she could forget what he had done.

“He did his best. He made a lot of mistakes, but he did the best that he could. I know that he loved me, your uncle Garra and Kankuro but it was hard for him to love us. My mother died when I was younger and I know that it hurt him a lot to lose her and to raise us without her. Things were a lot different in Suna than they are now with your Uncle leading, but I want to believe that he did what he did to keep everyone safe.

“I would be very sad if you were to leave Mama.” He told her clutching her kimono ever more so. The worry in his eyes made her heartbreak. He was just starting to learn what missions were and how serious they could be.

“My little one, I will not let that happen. Your mother is the strongest and cruelest kunoichi to ever live. You’ll always be my baby and I will be around for a long time.” She assured him. She knew that the lives that she and Shikamaru led came with risks to their lives and health but the devil himself would have to drag her to hell to separate her from her family.

“Good. Do you think that they would have liked me?”

She smiled brightly at him. “They would have loved you. Grandpa would have put you on his shoulders and paraded you up and down the streets of Suna. Grandma would have taught you to build the biggest and best sandcastles.” It was such a sweet image to dream of a complete family that loved and cared for her little Shikadai.

“I talk to them sometimes.”

“What do you mean?”

“At night I think about Grandpa Shikaku, Grandpa Rasa and Grandma Karura. I’ll tell them about what I am learning in school, any new jutsu and I let them know how you and daddy are doing.”

This surprised her. He always had an active imagination but this was a new development. “And what do they say in return?”

“They’re very proud.”

“Well they should be, you’re growing into such an amazing little Shinobi.”

He shook his head yet again. “No mama, they’re proud of you and daddy too. They said that you’ve both grown up and that you’re very good parents. I think that they are very happy for us.”

Temari tried to wipe her tears away before he noticed, trying to get these emotions under control. This was not how she was expecting this day to go.

“They also said that as long as we think about them, they’re never really gone. I think that's why Grandma Yoshino talks to Grandpa Shikaku so much, so that he stays around.”

Temari felt a sort of peace that she had never felt before come over her as the wind gently started to wrap around them. “Thank you Shikadai.” She pulled him into a warm hug her tears falling more steadily.

“Why mama?” He asked confused and worried about the tears in her eyes. His mama was strong, she never cried.

“For being you, for making me and your daddy parents. I love you my little fawn.”

He smiled and it reminded her so much of Shikamaru’s smile. “I love you too Mama.”

***************************************************

“Did you have a good day with Shikadai?” Shikamaru asked as he slipped into bed.

Wordlessly Temari curled herself into his chest as his arms wrapped safely around her.

“We have an amazing son.”

“I think so too.” He agreed kissing her forehead. He wanted to ask how she came to this conclusion, but it was better for her to take the lead in this conversation.

“Can we go visit Suna soon? I want Shikadai to learn more about that side of his family.” Their conversation and his interest today solidified her want to have her son be knowledgeable and proud of his Suna heritage.

“Of course Love, he should know just as much about his Sand lineage as he does about his Leaf.”

She nodded before kissing him ever so slightly. “Thank you Shika, I love you.” She whispered resting her head against his heart.

He smiled softly at her wondering what caused his wife to be so pliant and sweet but just chose not to question it. “I love you too Princess.”

Cho

Chouji looked fondly at the tiny infant lying safely, snuggled in her crib.

“She’s so small…”. Karui just laughed and kissed her husband softly.

“Babies typically are.”

“Not according to my mother. She claimed that I was the size of a toddler when I was born. She’s held it against me since then.”

Karui was well aware. Throughout her pregnancy, her mother-in-law told her horror stories of her pregnancy with Chouji and the ridiculous 30 plus hours that she was in labor with him. Thank goodness she’d been to war otherwise she might have been scared.

Chouchou was thankfully a relatively easy pregnancy. This made her worry about the future and that her child would be a handful when she got older to make up for it. During her pregnancy, Karui craved potato chips of every kind throughout, but she blamed that on her husband. Chouji was always so sweet and was able to get her some of her favorites from the Hidden Cloud. As cranky and vicious as she would become he would be there so loving and supportive reminding her just how fortunate she was.

Giving birth was exhausting and painful but she wasn’t one to shy away from pain and would gladly endure it to make their family complete.

“There’s nothing wrong with her right?” Chouji asked her, worry set in his eyes.

Karui warped her arms around him comfortingly running her fingers through his hair. “She’s perfectly fine, as though Ino or Sakura would ever let her be anything but perfect. She’s just small, she’ll grow. I was born prematurely and was much smaller than her. But I grew and became the strong, radiant woman in front of you. Chouchou has you as her father and me as her mother. She’s strong no matter what size she is or might become.” She felt him take a deep breath and nod.

“I know, I’m just a worrier I guess. When I met you I didn’t think that I could ever love anyone more. Then when I found out you were pregnant it was like this whole other part of my heart opened for her.” He smiled down at his daughter then up to his beautiful wife.

“Karui, just thank you. A gorgeous wife, and a perfect baby girl, these were all things that I could never have imagined for myself. I didn’t think that anyone could ever love me as I am and then you proved me wrong. I love you and Chouchou more than anything I’ve ever loved before. Sometimes when I think about it, it becomes overwhelming in the best way possible.”

Karui felt those tell-tell tears start to collect in her eyes. It had been an exhausting and emotional day but he still managed to bring her to such happy tears. She knew the extent of his self-esteem issues. She sometimes wished that she could have taken that pain and experiences that made him question himself so much. Although if she could ever do so, he wouldn’t be her kind, amazing husband.

“I am very lucky to have you as a husband and partner and Chouchou is very lucky to have you as her father. We will both love and protect her with everything we have. She’ll probably be stubborn but strong, loyal, but blunt and she will be loved more than she could ever imagine. She’ll always be our baby.”

Chouji nodded pulling his wife into a kiss. His heart racing as quickly as it did when they first started dating. Sometimes he wished that he could speak to the younger insecure child that he was and let him know that things turned out better than they could have dreamed. He had life long friends, an incredible wife and now with the addition of their little Choucho, a family that he’d lay down his life for in an instant. His life was full.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048953

#sai x ino #shikamaru x temari #chouji x karui #saiino #shikatema #chokarui #inojin yamanaka #shikadai #chouchou

54 notes · View notes

theangriestpea · 5 years

Text

Crowned : one

Summary: Two blonde princesses, two dark-haired princes, and one plotting marquess. Lily is in love with a secret admirer. Shanna doesn’t want to ascend to the throne. Jughead wants to spend the day writing poetry. Sweet Pea would rather be out on his horse. And Reggie just wants to be king. <ao3> <masterlist>

Pairing: Sweet Pea x OC, Jughead Jones x OC

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: none!

Part One: Betrothed

“Shanna, Lillian, I have an announcement.” The King said with a broad smile. The two blonde girls looked up from their plates. Shanna had a mouth full of food as Lily was picking up a piece of meat with her fork.

His eyes glittered with excitement, “as of a week ago, you are both of age. And you know what a princess’ duty is when they become adult women.”

Lily dropped her utensil as Shanna nearly spit out her food. They knew this was coming, but not this soon.

“Shanna, I have promised your hand to Prince Forsythe of the Southside Kingdom.” The King said, observing the displeased look on her face with amusement. “And Lily, you will be marrying Prince Sweet Pea, also from Southside. This is to help solidify the bond between our two kingdoms. Our alliance is rocky at best and in order to prevail against any future war with Greendale, then we will need a combined army.”

Lily sat back in her seat at the news. “Really daddy? Arranged marriages? Isn’t that a little barbaric?” She was less than happy to be marrying the boy that she merely only saw as a friend and nothing more.

Shanna went back to eating, trying to ignore the disgust pooling in her stomach. “It is barbaric. I’m not marrying Prince Jughead. He’s a weirdo.”

“Shanna.” He said, his voice sharpening, “it’s not a negotiation. This weekend there will be a royal announcement during the annual summer ball. All of the nobilities in Riverdale will be there. Including your betrothed.”

“Okay but why does Lily get the cute one? They’re both princes.” Shanna grumbled as she stabbed a carrot angrily.

The King tried not to roll his eyes at his oldest daughter. “Because Prince Forsythe is the heir to the throne. Since you are the first born, you will marry him. Why are you protesting this so much? You knew this was inevitable.”

“I thought you’d hand me off to Reggie, not Jughead. Duke Mantle was driving a pretty hard bargain.” Shanna replied. Of course she had known she wouldn’t get to choose who she married, but the Mantles had been trying for the throne for years now.

The King snorted, “Please. The duke’s son was never a contender for your hand. Everyone in the kingdom knows how he treats that boy. I can only imagine how he’d treat you.”

Both girls let out sighs of relief. It had been rumored in the Northside Kingdom that one of them would be married out to Reginald Mantle and the thought made them both want to vomit.

A silence befell them. Shanna and Lily merely picked at their food while their father ate normally. They were both too angry to have their fate decided for them at the young age of eighteen.

Bile rose in Lily’s throat as she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she’d never find out who had been leaving her little love notes around the castle. How she’d never be able to marry someone that truly loved her and not just for her status. She quickly stood up, leaving in a rush before vomit could escape past her lips.

Worried about her sister, Lav jumped up and followed after her. The King let out a disappointed sigh, continuing to eat his meal in silence.

Shanna quickly caught up to her sister, having just emptied her stomach into one of the many potted plants in the hallway. “Lils,” She said softly, pulling Lily’s hair back out of her face as she leaned over the large pot. “We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

Lily sniffed back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She just felt so overwhelmed from the news, not knowing how the rest of her life was going to play out. “I got another letter today.”

“You did?” Shanna asked curiously, having not known that. The past few months Lily had been finding love letters addressed to her by an anonymous writer. “What did this one say?”

The younger princess sat back on her heels and took a deep breath. “That my eyes shine brighter than the emeralds in my tiara.”

Lavender held back a gag. “That’s so cheesy.”

“It’s so sweet!” Lily said, burying her face in her hands. “And now I’ll never get to be with him. I’ll be stuck with…with Sweet Pea the rest of my life. You know he doesn’t have the capability of writing love letters. He doesn’t have a romantic bone inside of his giant body!”

“Romantic? No. But sexy? Yes.” Shanna said with an amused look, “can’t imagine Jughead being any good in bed.”

Lily shot her a frustrated look, “how would you even know what good sex is? You’re a virgin.”

Shanna stiffened before she shrugged, “I can imagine. And the chambermaids say that the younger prince is much more…endowed.”

“Lavie, just because you want to be with a man that warms the bed of every of-age woman in the two kingdoms, doesn’t mean that I want to be.” Lily replied, clearly aggravated.

“I don’t want to be with him!” Lav protested, “I don’t want to be with anyone! I just want to be able to live my life without some man telling me how to do it.”

Lily pulled her hands away from her face and sighed, “Jughead wouldn’t tell you how to live your life, Lav. He’d let you rule as an equal.” She seemed almost disappointed that she wouldn’t be the one by his side instead.

Lav helped Lily up, grabbing her upper arm gently to get her back on her feet. “You know I don’t want to rule, Lils.” She said in a quiet voice. “I just want to ride Persephone off to some neutral land to just live out my days in peace with someone I love. No more corsets that are so tight that they crack my ribs. Or dresses so big that I can’t even sit down comfortably. Or only being able to eat certain foods with certain utensils. If I want to use my soup spoon for ice cream, then I can because no one is hovering over me telling me that it’s wrong and improper and that I’m less of a lady for doing so. And Christ, no more crowns!”

Lily offered her a sympathetic smile. Lav had always complained about becoming queen. She didn’t want the load of responsibility of hundreds of lives on her shoulders. However as first born it was her fate to ascend. Lily on the other hand, wouldn’t mind it so much. She had a knack for leading people. More so than her sister did.

“I know, Lav. Maybe if we find who wrote the notes, we can just run away together.” Lily said with a small smile.

Lav shook her head, “That’s your fantasy, Lily. Not mine. Thanks though.” She let out a sigh. “Let’s get some sleep. We have our fittings tomorrow for the stupid ball.”

|\/\/|

“Introducing Princess Shanna Elizabeth Owens of North Riverdale and Prince Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third of South Riverdale.” The royal announcer’s voice boomed over the crowd as a Lav and Jughead stood arm in arm at the top of the grand staircase. They descended slowly in time to the soft music that played. On their lips were forced smiles for appearances as photographers took their pictures.

Their engagement had just been announced. Lavender felt like she couldn’t breathe under the choke hold of her corset. Jughead was just trying to keep his mind off of a certain other princess.

Once they were at the bottom, the spotlight moved back to the top. “Introducing Princess Lillian Elise Owens of North Riverdale and Prince Sweet Pea Jones of South Riverdale.” They repeated the walk down the staircase. Although Sweet Pea clearly had the most difficult time of keeping a smile on his face. More than once it slipped into a look of annoyance. Settling down was not something he wanted to do any time soon.

The four took their places on the dance floor. A new song played, one upbeat enough so that they could glide around in well-timed circles. Shanna did her best to not look totally bored, using her muscle memory to keep in step with the prince. Jughead noticed how distracted she seemed, especially when she laid eyes on Duke Mantle’s son. Her bright eyes seemed to darken considerably in an emotion he didn’t know her well enough to discern.

Lily was looking up at the dark prince who stood over a foot taller than she did. Unlike Shanna, Sweet Pea wasn’t bothering to hide his boredom. He hated dancing, he hated balls. The only thing they were good for was getting to bed a beautiful girl in an equally beautiful dress. The young princess’ eyes were focused on him but he could tell her mind was elsewhere. She was smiling but it wasn’t genuine. Clearly she wasn’t happy about their engagement either.

In fact, none of them were.

All four of them had been lectured on the importance of this alliance. The Southside needed food for their people. They needed funds for their army and to repair damaged roads as well as old buildings that needed renovation. Jughead had a duty to his kingdom as the next ruler. The Northside had money. Money that would fix all of the Southside’s problems.

The Queen of Greendale had been threatening war with the Northside for ages. The tension and strife between the two kingdoms was palpable. What the north had in money and riches, they lacked in manpower. They needed soldiers that were expertly trained in combat and soldiers that were capable of teaching their techniques to their own. The Southside offered that.

The Northern King had two daughters and the Southern King had two sons. It was an easy solution to both of their problems. The bad blood between royals was quickly drained.

The dance ended and both couples separated maybe a little too quickly. The girls both curtsied in mock appreciation for their partners. Lav made a beeline for the punch bowl that she knew to be spiked. It was Marquess Mantle’s signature move at any Northside ball.

Prince Forsythe moved to Lily, a soft smile on his face. “May I have this dance, Princess Lillian?” He asked, holding out his hand to her. Lily gave him a tentative look before grabbing his hand, nodding her head. She wasn’t sure why the first born prince would want to dance with her.

Deep down Lily wanted to go hide in a dark corner and try to look over the crowd to figure out who had been writing her notes. She didn’t care if it was a commoner or a member of the guard. She just wanted to be with him.

Jughead took her out back onto the dance floor and grabbed hold of her hip in his free hand. He held the other hand up so they could get into position to follow the music. He led her gracefully, letting her twirl in time with him.

His eyes glanced at the glittering tiara sitting neatly on top of her fair hair. “The emeralds of your tiara are shining very brightly under this light.” He said in a tone that only she could hear. She wore her green jeweled tiara in special hopes that her admirer would notice and say something. She had hoped and prayed that he’d make himself known. Suddenly it had all become clear and her swollen heart seemed to burst.

The man writing her beautiful poetry on embossed parchment was the same man set to wed her sister. She stopped dancing abruptly, pulling out of his reach. Jug watched her curiously, having wondered what her reaction might be to his compliment.

Lily picked up her dress so it was a few inches off the floor before bolting away from him, through the crowd of dancers, and out of the ballroom. Tears pricked her eyes but she willed them not to fall until she was alone and out of sight.

Meanwhile Shanna was drinking her cup of alcoholic punch. She was right in guessing that Reggie was going to spike it. He was so predictable. Her eyes moved to the towering figure next to her. His dark hard had to be gelled neatly in place to keep from getting into his eyes. Her mouth suddenly went dry.

She quickly found her nerve and quelled the butterflies in her stomach. “Poor Lily has to marry a troll.” She said, loud enough for Prince Pea to overhear her. He turned, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Too bad Jughead has to marry a dwarf.” Was his reply, making her huff indignantly. Before she could say anything back, Marquess Mantle walked up to them.

“Your Highness, may I have this dance?” He asked with a petulant smile on his lips. He glanced at the prince as if to size him up. Sweet Pea let out an annoyed snort before going back to his drink.

Shanna took his outstretched hand, allowing him to guide her to the dance floor as a slow song started. She held back a groan as Reggie put his hands on her waist, pulling her close to him.

“Don’t you think this is a little inappropriate, my Lord?” Shanna asked, not even hiding her disdain as her hands went to his shoulders. “I am engaged to Prince Forsythe now. Or did you forget?”

Reggie just smiled, something cruel and sinister that made her stomach drop and heart jump with anxiety. “For now, Princess, but you forget. I know your secret.”

She tried pulling away from him but his grasp on her was too tight. “Reggie, you’re not telling the king what we did. You’re not telling anyone. You promised.”

“Right, I promised.” Reggie said, his tone alluding to the fact that his word had just been a joke to him. “You promised me the crown.”

“Please, it’s not my call.” Shanna said, trying to act like she wasn’t trying hard to get away from him. “My father decided that the Mantle heritage was best left out of the royal line.”

The young lord didn’t seem too pleased to hear that. His hands tightened around her. Shanna was sure that the only thing keeping her skin from bruising was the tough exterior of her corset. The steel boning protecting her delicate flesh from his biting touch.

At the refreshment table, Prince Sweet Pea seemed to notice the distress the princess was in. He watched carefully, his dark pupils honing in on how tense Reggie’s hands seemed to be.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Reggie hissed between clenched teeth. “The King thinks some Southside trash Prince is better? A Jones?”

Sweet Pea had come behind Reggie, overhearing his insult to him and his brother. He wasn’t really a Jones, not by blood. The King and Queen had taken him in at a young age. Still, the Joneses were family to him and he did not make light of someone insulting them or the kingdom in which they ruled.

“Excuse me, Lord Mantle, but I believe that trash prince is going to be King of Riverdale while the best you can ever hope for is the title of Duke.” Sweet Pea said proudly as he stood to full height. He used the handful of inches in difference to his advantage.

Reggie, wanting to save face, quickly let go of his captive. “Your Highness, I didn’t know you were right there.” Shanna took a step back, giving Sweet Pea a look that was a mix of relief and aggravation. She was sure she could have handled it herself.

“I was going to ask the princess if she knew where her sister was.” Sweet Pea said, lying. He had seen Lily run off during her dance with Jughead. He assumed Jug just confessed his feelings or something sappy like that. His romantic antics made Pea nauseous on numerous occasions.

“Lily’s not here?” Shanna asked as she looked around. “I thought she was with Prince Jughead.” Sweet Pea watched as she ran to the other Jones boy. He was speaking with a few other Lords, pretending to be entertained by whatever drivel they were going on about.

Sweet Pea looked at Reggie, glad that she had gone. “If I catch you speaking like that about my brother, your future king, or my kingdom again, then I’ll make sure your family is stripped of their sovereignty.” He said in a low, serious voice. His frame loomed over the somewhat shorter boy with a fiery look in his eyes. “And if you lay a hand on a princess like that again, I’ll do something even worse.”

Reggie looked flabbergasted as Sweet Pea turned around and went to find perhaps a conquest for the night. It wasn’t often he was this far North. Most of the women here were new to him. He could use another notch in his bedpost.

Meanwhile Lav was interrupting Jughead, “Prince Forsythe, can I please speak with you privately?” She asked, trying to not feel too much concern. Jug nodded towards the men he was talking to before allowing Lavender to pull him away.

“Thanks for that. I was pretty sure they were about to torture me with more advice on how to keep a mistress.” Jughead said, wondering what was up but also knowing it couldn’t have been that serious.

She gave him a frustrated look, both at the thought of him having a mistress and him not taking her concern seriously. “Where is Lily? You were dancing with her, where did she go?”

Jughead shifted his weight in an attempt to quell his nerves. The girls were very close, if she had perceived that he hurt Lily in any way then she’d probably lash out at him. Not that Jughead couldn’t take some verbal abuse, he would just rather not make a scene on the night of their announced engagement.

“She ran through the double doors halfway through our dance.” Jughead stated calmly, looking off into the direction where his favorite princess had disappeared too.

Lavender’s brow furrowed as she stared at him, “she ran? What did you say to her!?” Her voice raised enough to cause a few nearby nobles to give them curious looks.

The prince let out a soft sigh, “I merely said that the emeralds in her tiara were shining very brightly.” He didn’t know if Lily had shared his notes with her sister, but he had assumed that she had. It wasn’t a secret how close they were. They weren’t exactly known for having a lot of friends outside the castle.

Shanna’s hazel eyes widened, “you…you?!” She stammered, trying to put together the pieces of information she was receiving. Jughead was the one writing the notes? How?

Suddenly anger overcame her and she shoved him, “do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” She said, her heart swollen with pain for her sister. “You can’t tell my sister you want her when you have to marry me!”

Jughead didn’t budge, her force not nearly strong enough to set him off balance. He frowned as he looked down at her. He hadn’t realized how his admittance would affect either of them. Clearly he was wrong in outing himself. “I’ll make it up to you,” He said, confusing the reason for why she was so upset.

“Don’t make it up to me,” Shanna said in a low voice so no one else could hear her, “make it up to her.”

With a twirl of her dress she was turned around and marching into the direction where her sister had gone to. She knew exactly where she was hiding.

Lav went to a cupboard in the kitchen that they used to hide in when they were young to get away from their nanny and now more often times, their father. She could hear her quiet sobs behind the door.

She opened it slowly, peeking inside to see Lily with her knees up against her chest, crying so hard that her shoulders were shaking. “Lils.” Shanna said softly, crawling in with her and shutting the door back so they’d have privacy.

“It’s him.” She mumbled into her arms, “He’s the one that’s been sending me notes. I can’t believe it. I found him and he’s engaged to you.”

Lav couldn’t sit next to her because of how narrow the space was. She sat in front of her instead, in the same position with her knees up. “I know.” Lav said softly, “it was cruel of him to tell you. I made sure to tell him so.”

Lily was quiet for a moment, “no, I’m glad he did. It is better than guessing for the rest of my life.” She sniffed back snot that had built up in her nostrils, playing with the hem of her dress to distract herself. “What are we going to do?”

“You know I don’t care about Jughead, Lily.” Shanna said cautiously, “I don’t want to marry him any more than you want to marry Sweet Pea. He can write you all the love letters he wants, it doesn’t hurt me. Sometimes…I just wish someone cared about me like that. Then again that would make this all that much harder so it’s probably better that no one does.”

Lily wiped her eyes, hoping to fix her running makeup in the process. It didn’t help much. “Do you think…dad will reconsider?” She asked, “Maybe he’ll let me marry Jughead?”

Shanna was quiet, thinking it over. “I don’t think so.” She said truthfully, causing more tears to fall down her sister’s face. “Because I’m first born. I have to be queen. I don’t want to be, you know how shit of a leader I am. But…he’s a traditionalist. I don’t think there’s any use in even asking. He’ll just get mad. Maybe even call the whole thing off, in which you’d never get to see the prince because he’d be king of an enemy state again. I’ll have to marry Reggie. Please…God please, do not make me marry Reggie.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that.” Lily replied with a frustrated sigh. “So you don’t care if me and Jughead…”

She shrugged, “do what you want. It’s not like I love him. I’d share anything with you. Even a husband.”

A ghost of a smile made its way across Lily’s lips.

|\/\/|

Shanna walked into the royal stable, letting the servant know that she’d be going out for a ride to clear her head. Her knees still hurt from being cramped into the cupboard with Lily almost all night. They spent the time hidden away from guests, giggling and talking about their future dreams that didn’t include their betrothed.

All she could think about was how much her sister must be hurting. It caused her to toss and turn all night as she tried desperately to find a solution. She didn’t have much success in thinking of anything.

The princess looked up, seeing the black head of a stallion peeking out from over a stall door. He snorted softly when their eyes connected. “Oh? Who are you?” She asked, the dark thoughts disappearing from her mind as she walked up to him slowly, not wanting to startle him with her excitement.

“Did daddy buy me a new horse and not tell me?” She asked, reaching out to let him sniff her hand. He leaned his head out further, and Shanna put her hand delicately on his snout to pet him. “Maybe an engagement present? What’s your name, huh?”

“His name is Hades. And he’s not your present. He’s my personal horse.” A sharp voice came from behind her. Shanna’s hand didn’t leave the horse as she looked over her shoulder to see the tall, dark prince. He looked strange in fitted jeans, t-shirt, and old boots. He looked the opposite of royal, in fact.

Hades made an annoyed noise when Shanna pulled her hand away from him, as if he missed the contact immediately. In contrast, Shanna was wearing full riding gear. Tight pants, jacket, a nice pair of boots, hair braided back, and even a pair of riding gloves hanging out the back of her pants.

Sweet Pea refrained from letting his eyes sweep over the skin tight pants that showed off her rear perfectly. He also didn’t look at how small her waist seemed in the way the jacket was tailored to fit her form…at least he tried not to. “I’d rather you not touch him.”

She gave him an offended look, “please. He wanted me to touch him, practically begged me to come over and get him a pet. Didn’t you, Hades?”

Hades seemed to nod his head, much to Sweet Pea’s chagrin. Shanna grinned. “You just wanted attention from a beautiful girl, huh?”

Sweet Pea forced his way between them. Hades nuzzled his back between his shoulder blades, making him to take a step forward closer to the princess. She gave him a skeptical look. “I didn’t peg you for an animal guy.”

“I’ve raised him since he was a foal. I watched his mother give birth to him. He’s not just some gift my father gave me because I bitched about wanting a pony.” Sweet Pea said angrily.

Shanna’s eyes hardened. “Are you trying to say I don’t care about my horses?”

“They’re just trophies of wealth to you.” Sweet Pea said hotly. “You and every other royal girl in the kingdom across the continent.”

“Excuse you, but you don’t know a thing about me.” She snapped angrily, “you don’t know my feelings towards my horses in the slightest. I may not have watched Persephone being born, but she is my everything. How dare you insinuate that I only see her as a toy and not a living creature, you stupid troll!”

She stormed over to the stall a few doors down, opening it and leading out a pure white horse. Persephone forced her head into Lav’s arms in an attempt to comfort her. She wrapped her hands around the horse in a gentle hug. “Looks like Dooley got you ready for me already.”

“You don’t even saddle your own horse?” Sweet Pea asked condescendingly. Shanna shot him another angry look as she led the white beauty out of her stall by her reigns.

“I do. Sometimes the stable hand gets wind that I’m coming and does it for me to get in my good graces. I’m future queen. Something like that goes a long way in my kingdom.” Shanna replied, her voice hotter than fire as she mounted Persephone.

Sweet Pea got the necessary tack needed to go for a ride himself. “I bet you don’t even know how to ride properly.”

Shanna looked down at him from on top of her horse. “What to bet?” She asked, her voice blossoming with a dark threat that was looming over Sweet Pea’s head. A threat he couldn’t ignore.

“A race.” Sweet Pea suggested, putting the saddle blanket on first. “To Sweetwater River. Winner has to clean the loser’s horse stall.”

“Fine.” Shanna said, having never been able to back down from a bet. “I’ll be waiting outside for you. Then we can start.” She guided her horse outside the stable doors, listening to the sounds of Sweet Pea mumbling incoherently to his steed as he saddled him up.

A few minutes later Sweet Pea joined her, lining Hades with Persephone. The two horses eyed each other, nickering at one another happily. The riders looked at one another, begrudging the fact that their horses seemed to be getting along a little too well.

“On the count of three.” Shanna said before counting down. Once she hit one the two dug their heels into their horses, sending them into a gallop.

The two raced neck in neck. Naturally Hades had more power being male, but Persephone held her own. At least, until three quarters of the way through, she started pulling back.

Shanna knew she wasn’t tired. She had raced her like this before against other horses for fun. She could easily make this trek. However, her mare insisted on slowing down despite her urging her to keep going.

Sweet Pea made it to the edge of the river, slowing down his horse and turning him around to see his opponent. The white mare trailed behind the black stallion. She shook her head and let out a whinny as she got to the river.

Displeasure ran across Lavender’s face. Her eyes narrowed in frustration. “That wasn’t a fair race. She wouldn’t run.”

“Don’t be a sore loser.” Sweet Pea replied in a bland tone. “Just admit that I’m the superior rider.”

“I’m not admitting shit.” Shanna spat back, turning Persephone around to be in line again with Hades. The horses nickered to one another once more. “Persephone, stop fraternizing with the enemy.”

Sweet Pea scoffed as he motioned for Hades to start the walk back. He started at a slow place to help him cool off. Shanna followed after him to do the same. “Want me to brush him down too since I’m cleaning up his shit?” She grumbled after him.

“I’m not letting you touch my horse.” Sweet Pea replied, not even turning his head to look at her. “You won’t do it right.”

Shanna reached over and pet Hades’ rump defiantly behind Sweet Pea’s back. “I know how to take care of a horse, you ass. God, I can’t believe my poor sister is stuck with you.”

“Yea. Too bad Jughead will never care about you.” Sweet Pea said back, successful in his attempt to hurt her. No, her husband would never care about her. Not in the way he cared about her sister.

Sweet Pea heard her sniff and looked back at her, “you going to cry now?”

“Shut up!” Shanna snapped back at him, pulling Persephone away to take a different path back to the stable. “You’re insufferable!”

Once alone Sweet Pea leaned over, rubbing Hades’ neck affectionately. “Don’t go catching feelings, boy.” He warned him. “That mare is nothing but trouble.”

((Top image by @the-gargoyle-queen ; bottom image by @lilhemmo))

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years

Text

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 102: Trouble Melts Like Lemon Drops

Snow looked at herself in the mirror, as she had allowed her mother to magically dress her, while Eli anxiously waited outside the room. As an infant, her mother and grandmother had made the decision to strip her of her immortality and most of the magic she might have acquired because of her blood. It was a difficult decision, but it was determined that letting her human side be dominant would actually keep her safer.

Eli's Kingdom had already been up in arms at her existence and the scandal that their crown Prince had fathered a child, not only out of royal wedlock, but one with a Goddess. The years where that would have made Snow revered had long since passed and the Gods were no longer respected by mortals as they once were.

A lot of that was due to all the wars and bloodshed they had been involved in centuries before Snow was even born. Humans and the Gods had a bloody history and it had only created a deep seeded animosity. A lot of mortal hatred was due directly to Zeus and many of his own actions and involvement with humans. He had done nothing to endear himself to humans, used them, killed them outright, and was often hypocritical by breaking his own laws that he expected humans to follow. Zeus was unforgiving and saw mortals as lesser beings, rather than beings created in the image of the Gods, as many of the other Gods did. He had falsely represented his siblings too. He had made mortals fear all of them, especially Hades.

Many cultures equated Hades with a devil-like figure in many mortal, religious practices. But Hades was not the demon he had been portrayed to be, though that image was something that had plagued him and contributed to the times when he was ruling tyrannically.

Naturally with these types of attitudes, Demeter had reluctantly advised that they let Snow's human side be dominant. Persephone had worried about that simply because it meant Snow would live a mortal lifespan, but Athena had ascertained that this would be addressed when the time was right, though she was vague on the hows and whys of that, as Athena often was. The wise Goddess never gave much away, but Persephone trusted her.

That being said, Snow retained a tiny bit of magic, enough to ensure she was unique among mortals. Her ability to speak to birds and affinity for wildlife was a gift left to her by her Godly origins and Snow had always considered it a wonderful gift, even if some people thought her to be odd because of it.

When she was born, her grandmother had declared that she would be the fairest in the lands and that had stuck with her. Even though many in her father's court had a great amount of disdain for her, it was never missed by them at how beautiful she was. The men had suggested to her father that at least he would be able to marry her off to some Prince and thus somehow by their thinking turn her into a suitable royal. Her father had quickly quashed those opinions though. He may have often been at the mercy of his court, but he was always clear that he would not marry his precious little girl off to some undeserving, pompous Prince that he knew would mistreat her. He had always insisted that Snow would be allowed to marry for love, something he had not been allowed, and had been steadfast in that. He didn't miss being King. In fact, being free, despite being a wanted man had been the best times in his life. He wished there wasn't King Arawn hunting him and his daughter, but he had been able to spend more time with her on the run than in his time as King when sometimes she had been under the same roof.

He had noticed the modification made to Snow's wanted posters. They now wanted his daughter alive, whereas before, they had stated that dead would be preferable. And he knew what that meant. Arawn had control of his Throne, which meant he could technically barter his daughter in an arranged marriage if he wanted to. That had been a disturbing fact to him, as well as Persephone and Hades, for they had noticed the shift as well. He could only surmise that Arawn saw the value of keeping Snow alive. Having the daughter of a Goddess to use as some kind of pawn was an attractive thing to the evil King and he was almost certain the idea had probably come from Claude Frollo. He had not missed the way Frollo had looked at his daughter when she had come to save him from execution. The religious zealot even had the nerve to blame his little girl's beauty as the reason for the perversion inside him. It made him want to rip Frollo's head off with his bare hands and knew that if the man touched his daughter again, there would be another murder and he'd be the culprit. At one time, he had scoffed that he would ever join or team up with Hades to do anything, but he knew the God of the Underworld would be right there, helping him to hold the man down while they ended him.

So when Snow met David, he was very happy for his little girl. To find true love and be with someone he could trust with her was ease for his weary heart and soul. David was a very good man, who loved and cherished his daughter with every fiber of his being. He knew David would die for his daughter in a heartbeat, though he hoped that was never necessary. Despite the Kingdoms being war torn and Arawn's latest grab for power with this black god, whatever that may be, this happy occasion was extremely welcome and the fact that Snow was happy was everything to him. He heard the door open and he turned to see Persephone there with a smile.

"Okay...you can come in now," she said. He smiled and went into the room to spend a few moments with his little girl on her wedding day.

~*~

"Well...what do you think?" Persephone asked.

"It's beautiful...mother. It's perfect," she gushed, as she was in awe of the beautiful gown. The dress was pure white, of course, and the satin material shimmered in the light. Her hair was up in an intricate twist and she wore a crown of snowdrops around her head.

"You are beautiful, my sweet daughter…" Persephone said, as tears filled her eyes.

"Mama...if you cry, then I'll start crying," Snow warned.

"Sorry sweetheart...it's just that I'm so happy that you've found true love and I promise you that we will stop this war so that someday, you and David will never have to be separated," she promised. Snow nodded, as they hugged.

"I know you will," she replied, as her mother opened the door.

"Okay...you can come in now," she told Eli and he walked in.

"Oh Snow…" he uttered, as he gently hugged her.

"You are certainly the most beautiful bride ever," he added, as he tearfully kissed her forehead.

"I love you Daddy," she said. He smiled.

"I love you too, sweet pea," he replied, as fished something out of his pocket and she gasped at the beautiful ring.

"This ring has been passed down in our family for generations. It's a star stone...very rare," he said, as he put it on her finger. Snow gazed at the beautiful sapphire, which had a star inside it with six rays.

"Daddy...it's gorgeous," Snow uttered.

"I was once going to give it to your mother...but that didn't work out. And I could never have given such a precious family heirloom to Ravenna," he said sadly.

"But I knew that it would be different for you and that you would find love. I knew I would give it to you someday and that day is here," he added, as they hugged again.

~*~

David was both a bundle of nerves and anticipation, as he prepared to marry the woman he loved. He was decidedly disappointed by the options in his wardrobe though and was feeling a bit uncertain.

"What was I thinking? I'm marry a Princess...even my nicest clothes are in no shape for this," he lamented.

"Honey...Snow will not care what you are wearing," Ruth admonished. He sighed.

"I know mother...I just want to at least look the part," he said.

"There is no one more worthy or deserving of Snow than you," Hades interjected, as he appeared in the doorway.

"Snow wants to marry you and will barely notice what you are wearing," he added, as he walked into the room.

"He's right, son," Robert agreed.

"However...if it would ease your mind, I think I can help with you attire," Hades offered. Sera smiled at them both and David nodded.

"I'd like that," David agreed, as Snow's stepfather snapped his fingers and supplied his soon to be son-in-law with new attire. He was now wearing a silvery gray tunic, adorned with a regal pattern, a gray cape and sash, with black leather pants and boots to complete the ensemble.

"Oh look at you...so handsome, though you were that before," Sera gushed, as she looked at her grown, adopted son. She swallowed thickly, as it made her think of James and how he looked exactly like David. She recalled holding him in her arms and finding the most joy she ever had in him. She had been ripped away from him and felt lost in an abyss of despair, even thinking that death might have been better than feeling that pain. But then she met Ruth and little David, which awoke the light inside her again. She missed James terribly every day, but helping her beloved wife raise their son together had truly been the thing that pulled her out of the depths of grief. It was her second chance, though she would forever mourn losing James. But David made her very happy and proud. And all three of them, herself, Ruth, and Robert were ecstatic at gaining a daughter-in-law like Snow.

"Thank you...this is perfect," David said graciously.

"Well, you're my son-in-law now, so I can't have you marrying our little girl looking like a ragamuffin," Hades quipped, though there was mirth behind his statement, before he turned serious and put a hand on David's shoulder.

"When I first found out Persephone was pregnant and she wasn't biologically mine, I was very angry and almost did some things that would have been terrible. But then I promised to stand by my wife, knowing that I had a lot of responsibility in our broken marriage," he said.

"And though I promised to support her, I swore that I would never love this child. Then I saw her and felt love again for the first time in a very long time," he continued.

"There is literally no one else in this realm or any other that I would trust with her, but I know that I can with you," he finished. David felt incredibly humbled.

"I love her...she's everything and I'll make her happy," he promised. Hades smiled.

"Well, you already do so you just have to keep that up," he quipped. David smiled, as they followed him out. He was very anxious to marry the woman he loved.

~*~

The Sorcerer's Apprentice carried out his mundane existence as he did every day. He lived in seclusion in his cabin near the mountains and maintained a hermitage lifestyle, all in the name of guarding his Master's magical legacy.

He was saddened when the powerful Sorcerer was sealed away in a tree by the Dark One, centuries ago, but he did not mind the quiet life. He had left Camelot at that point and guarded the powerful artifact against anyone that might attempt to take it for their own personal use.

In the wrong hands, the Sorcerer's power could be used to exact great devastation. And it was his life's mission to make sure that did not happen. He was a very old man now, but life would sustain him until the magic had another guardian or the Sorcerer returned. Until then, he would do his duty and had for centuries with nary a hiccup. But as he returned from a three day journey for supplies, he felt something ominous in the air that told him today would be different than the thousands of days before. And he felt his senses warn him of danger, as he heard a knock at his door. But he remained calm and unsuspecting, as he answered it and found a lone man there. He appeared to be aging and weathered, but he was no ordinary man and the Apprentice could sense that he was not what he appeared. There was a sophistication about him and a cruelty in his eyes.

"I've been traveling for many days...can you spare some water and something to eat?" the man questioned.

"Of course...please come in," the Apprentice responded.

"Thank you...you are very kind," the white haired man said graciously.

"Please...I will get you some water. Please help yourself to the biscuits I just made and warm yourself by the fire," the Apprentice offered, as he watched the man's eyes wander around his home.

"You live so far away from civilization...I didn't expect to find anyone up here. I surely thought I would be doomed," the man said.

"I prefer a hermitage sort of existence...it suits me," the Apprentice replied, as he offered the man a cup.

"Now...what brings you out this far?" he questioned.

"I am man of the cloth and left my cathedral on a sabbatical retreat to gain perspective and re-focus my life," the other man offered.

"I see...are you struggling with temptations?" the Apprentice asked.

"Very much so...I took a vow of celibacy and have struggled greatly with lust. There was a witch that was nearly my undoing, a filthy gypsy of all things. I left the cathedral to conquer my lust," he replied.

"Is that so? From the pleasures of the flesh or for power?" the Apprentice questioned, as their eyes met.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you have seen through my ruse," Frollo responded.

"A ruse based on truth, I can sense. You blame your perversion on the wiles of beautiful women, but you are the only one with ownership for the sickness inside you," the Apprentice responded.

"This does not have to involve violence. I require only one thing for my King and I will have it, regardless of what is in my way," Frollo stated.

"I will never give you my Master's hat. Your King is an evil soul and will only use my Master's great magic to spread his evil. I will never allow that to happen," the Apprentice stated.

"Then I guess we should get to it," Frollo responded, as he stood up and the Apprentice with him. The apprentice used his wand and unleashed his magic on Frollo, but his eyes widened in surprise, as Frollo came with his own weapon and wielded a type of sorcery unlike anything the Apprentice had ever seen in his very long life...

~*~

With the flick of her wrist, Persephone had fashioned the meadow into the perfect setting for her daughter's wedding. The meadow was already full of lush flowers and an abundance of snowdrops. She had cleared a path through the flora to make a proper aisle and Hades had created a white and golden archway. Apollo stood there, ready to officiate the ceremony, while Artemis and Demeter had arrived to witness too.

David stood at the altar, with his father standing next to him and his mothers there as well. Artemis and Demeter stood on Snow's side, opposite his mothers, while Persephone and Hades walked down the aisle arm in arm, to take their place across from his parents. Anything else that might have been happening around him was then unseen, as his attention was captured by Snow, floating toward him like the angel and Goddess she was, on her father's arm. When they reached the altar, Eli kissed her cheek and hugged her. Persephone and Hades hugged her as well, before she came to stand before David.

"I'm honored to be here today to officiate this union; a union which has been written in the stars," Apollo began.

"In this world, love can be fleeting and very difficult to find. I am very old and I have seen many false accounts of love and failed relationships, so to find a love so true as this one is very refreshing," he continued.

"We have all come together today to bond this already truest love in the sanctity of marriage," he said, as he made a motion with his hands and the sapling they had created on the first day they had met appeared floating between them.

"On the very first day you met, the first spark of true love was ignited. This very rare occurrence gave birth to your destined love and this became a symbol of that love," he stated.

"Now that we join you in eternal matrimony, this sapling must take root and like your love and devotion, it will now grow and flourish," Apollo decreed, as he used his magic to plant the sapling in the meadow and it took root, as it grew a bit, ensuring that it would eventually tower over them like a beacon of their love.

"Snow...you already wear two rings. One from your father's lineage and another from David's. The star gem is a very rare gem, much like you and this love between you," he stated.

"And the other ring follows true love and led you together. So I take a leaf from your sapling and fashion another ring for you to place on your beloved's finger," Apollo stated, as he plucked a leaf from the sapling and used magic to transform it into a wedding band that was imbued with the power of their true love from the sapling. He handed it to Snow and she slipped it onto David's finger.

"I think I can speak for all present when I say that we are in the presence of an incredible love, but we should hear those vows from the two of you," Apollo prompted, as David took a deep breath and prepared to confess his heart to her.

"When I was a little boy...I loved to gaze up at the stars. I was always so drawn to them and my mothers told me that it was because I sought true love in them," he began.

"I didn't know it, but I've been looking for you all my life and the stars were my map. Then I finally found you and suddenly knew that you were what I had been looking for all my life. And I'll keep looking for you and finding you. When we're together, I'll love you and cherish you. Then when we're apart, I'll miss you terribly, but take heart in knowing that you are safe from evil. And I'll never lose the faith that there will be a day when we never have to be apart again," he continued.

"But knowing that you're my wife will get me through those times. You're the love of my life. I knew from the moment I looked at you that I wanted to marry you, so I strive to be a man worthy of your love. What we have is true love, without a doubt and eternal. It goes beyond just this life and I know that whatever life we find ourselves in that I will always find you, just as you found me. And I know that no matter what we face, we shall do so together," he finished and she had to wipe a few tears away.

"When I was a little girl, my mother and my Nana said that I would find true love. I believed them and dreamed about what it would be like," she began.

"And then I was framed for murder and almost lost hope that finding love would be possible. I almost wondered if love was even real...and then you found me in that moment where I was ready to give up and awakened hope in me again. True love is magic and I knew that the moment my hand touched yours and we created this sapling," she continued tearfully.

"You were better than anything I could have dreamed. You're my Charming...and there is no other that deserves to be called that, because you embody what it means to be a Prince Charming. You're my hero and now I get to call you my husband, which brings me more joy than I ever thought possible," she added.

"You're the love of my life and I know that our love is eternal and true. I know you'll always find me and I will always find you. And I know we will get through anything, because we will do it together," she finished.

"There is no question that we are in the presence of the true, everlasting love that not men or Gods can tear asunder. Snow and David...by the cosmic powers in me, I bond you in an eternal union of the highest devotion, love, and commitment. I declare you husband and wife for all time," Apollo announced, as they joined hands.

"I think you know what to do now," he added coyly. They beamed at him and then each other, before coming together, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Their family cheered and clapped for them.

Shortly after, they saw Hades and Persephone off. They were leaving right away to follow Frollo into the eastern mountains and stop him from whatever plot he had conceived. They hugged their daughter and new son-in-law, as they prepared to leave.

"Please be careful," Snow pleaded.

"We will, Snowdrop," Persephone promised.

"We're just worried...because Frollo has proved to be really dangerous," David added.

"Yes, he has...but magic is still on our side and we won't let him succeed," Hades promised, as he joined hands with his wife and they disappeared in twin puffs of smoke.

"Well...the rest of us will leave you two to enjoy your wedding night," Sera gushed, as she ushered the rest of them to their cabin. David rolled his eyes at their antics and then swept his new bride into his arms. Snow yelped in surprise, but then put her arms around his neck, as he carried her into their cabin.

~*~

Hades and Persephone arrived the cabin where they knew Merlin's Apprentice lived and guarded the hat. Immediately, they knew something was very wrong, as the door was open and they went inside. They found the old man on the floor, still shaking and recognized this as likely the after effects of Frollo's weapon.

"Please tell me he doesn't have it!" Hades snapped, as light blue flames licked at the tips of his hair.

"Hades…" Persephone scolded and he attempted to compose himself.

"I'm...sorry, he had some sort of item that nullified my magic…" the Apprentice apologized.

"Yes...that was King Arawn's Royal Vizier and he has been mixing science with alchemy and sorcery. It's created some very dangerous things he is able to use against magic wielders," Persephone explained.

"I am sorry, Goddess...but I'm afraid he found and took the hat," he explained regrettably.

"How?! Even if he subdued you...it should have been hidden where no one could find it!" Hades cried, as his wife gave him another look, though she herself was close to panicking as well.

"He had a needle and injected me with some sort of serum. He said it was a scientific concoction he had made to force people to tell the truth. And to my horror...he was correct," the Apprentice revealed.

"Okay...Frollo is one customer I'd like to see in the Underworld. I know I gave up the whole torture thing, but he is very deserving of a session. I just can't decide between fingernail pulling or target practice with flaming arrows," Hades quipped.

"Hades…" Persephone scolded.

"You're right...both are wildly messy. I think I'll go with letting Cerberus play fetch with his body parts after he's torn him apart, of course," he replied.

"No," she said sternly and looked disappointed.

"Like you don't want to take a hammer to him for the way he looked at Snow," he retorted.

"Maybe...but he's still alive for now and we have to stop him. We'll deal with his afterlife later," she reasoned.

"He must be headed for bald mountain...the hat will show him the way. The entire realm will be doomed if he releases the Chernabog," the Apprentice said, as he used the black god's real name.

"Of course the entire realm will be doomed! That's why we locked it away and burned all the maps! I can't believe I missed one," Hades lamented.

"Unless you didn't," Persephone responded. He turned to her.

"What do you mean?" he questioned.

"You did destroy all the maps in the realm...except for the one in the Underworld," she reminded.

"But we're the only ones with access to that one. No other Gods except…" he started to say, but then paused and she nodded.

"Hermes...that little gutter worm," he hissed and then shook his head.

"But why? What does Hermes have to gain by releasing the black god?" he questioned.

"We know that Hermes will side with whoever is the most powerful. We know that Arawn would love nothing more than to possess that power, but what if he is only a pawn for someone even more powerful?" she questioned and his eyes widened in realization.

"Deimos…" he realized and they joined hands.

"Will you be all right?" she asked the Apprentice. He nodded.

"Go...stop Frollo from unleashing doom on us all," he pleaded. They nodded and disappeared again in twin puffs of smoke...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #HadesxPersephone #romance #Greek Mythology meets fairy tales #AU #adventure #family #dreaming out loud

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dunkjrk · 6 years

Text

narcissus i

pairing- michael x y/n (fem)

word count- 3.6k

warnings- cursing, mentions of cheating, infant abandonment

a/n- okay, before I start I just want to say this is more of a prologue where I introduce y/n’s background and her relationships with the other characters so not as much as I hoped happens, but this means I’ll be able to focus solely on the story in future parts!! I don’t ship May and Arthur, that’s just sort of he way the story turned out,,, and pls note that this isn’t 100% mythology accurate, so don’t use this for any educational purposes :D

Hades, although most people called him Michael, was the God of the Underworld. Michael was the same age as y/n, both younger than the majority of the Gods. Tommy claimed that given Demeter’s specialty, it only made sense for y/n to be the Goddess of spring, leaving the final job for Michael. But Michael didn’t have any family to vouch for him as y/n did, he was an affair child- something frowned upon in Olympus. And so his parents, whoever they were, abandoned him for the rest of the Gods to find. Tommy didn’t know anything about Michael, simply waiting for him to grow up before sending him off to rule the Underworld. But Michael didn’t belong there. Not to begin with anyway. Time turned him to stone, and after years upon years living with the agonising screams of the tortured souls, Michael inevitably turned cold. Despite being tucked away in the Underworld as soon as he hit 16, he wasn’t oblivious. He knew he was an affair child, he knew Tommy paid no attention to who he was before damning him to rule the Underworld, and after years of living in Hell, he knew that he despised y/n for stealing what could have been his.

Michael, the God of death, finds himself infuriated with y/n, the Goddess of life.

Y/n was the daughter of Demeter, though amongst the Gods her mother was referred to as May, and was the goddess of spring. Outside of Olympus, she had multiple names- the most common being Persephone. The goddess of spring was beautiful. Her eyes were wide and innocent, with dark yet bright irises, rimmed with the prettiest lashes that brushed her cheek each time she blinked. Soft wisps of hair gently caressed her face, cascading down her back into a gorgeous tangle of waves and curls. Demeter was well aware of how beautiful her daughter was, and so she took it upon herself to hide her away from the rest of the world. It wasn’t that the Goddess of the harvest was evil, or even envious of her daughter. It was nothing like that, Demeter simply simply couldn't afford to lose y/n. Y/n’s father, Zeus (otherwise known as Tommy), had left Demeter as soon as she was born, instead marrying Hera (or Grace), the Goddess of marriage and family. Whilst she made out like it didn’t bother her, Zeus leaving broke her and though try as she might to hide it, there was no doubt that Demeter was never the same afterwards. And so she hid y/n away, in fear of her daughter leaving too. The most desired maiden in all of Olympus was bound to find somebody soon enough, though the idea both outraged yet delighted Demeter. Hiding y/n from the rest of the world only satisfied half of Demeter, because as much as she wanted Persephone to herself, she was well aware of the opportunities she was robbing her daughter of

There wasn’t a single being in all of Olympus purer than her. She was pretty, yes, but she was far from dumb, and she was very far from weak. She grew up surrounded by stories of rape, abuse and kidnappings, and so the young Goddess took it upon herself to learn to defend herself not only verbally, but if it came down to it physically too. Demeter wasn’t too proud of the reputation her daughter gained after leaving the butcher’s son unconscious when she was 15, and no matter how much she reasoned, Demeter just wouldn’t agree. ‘Mom, he tried to force himself onto me! Was I supposed to just let him?’ ‘Of course not dear, but you don’t lower yourself to their levels, we use words to fight our battles, yeah?’ Although, she knew her combat skills would only get her so far, so Y/n used the library Zeus had built in Olympus frequently to educate herself, and she listened in intently during meetings with the rest of the Gods. As for the rest of the Gods, they all adored y/n. She had taken a particular liking to Finn, better known as Apollo and Ada, or to mortals Artemis. Tommy tried his best to be involved with y/n and May, although being a married man with children of his own, and an entire kingdom to manage- this proved to be quite difficult. Whilst he dropped by for brief periods of time on her birthday or other occasions, Tommy’s presence was very scarce around the two. That’s not to say y/n had no father figure as she grew up. The God of War, Aries (or Arthur) had shown an interest in the young girl when he caught her crying amongst her mother’s bluebells when she was barely 4.

The sound of sniffles and whimpers caught the war God’s attention as the chatter of the others seemed to drown out. Tommy was hosting another party in celebration of his wife baring another child, although by this point the news barely surprised an of the Gods, and so the majority only showed up for the drinks.

He handed (shoved) his glass into Poseidon's chest, leaving the baffled sea God with nothing more than a mumble of ‘hold m’ drink john’ as he slipped out of the group, heading for towards the soft cries coming from the garden.

“Who’s there? The party’s inside.” Arthur called, cautiously edging closer to the source to the sound.

“It’s fuckin’ scorchin’ hot here, what y’doin’ sittin’ out in the su-”

He paused.

Opening his mouth, no words came out when his eyes met with a wide, watery pair.

Arthur was the God of War. It was no surprise to anyone how aggressive and hot headed he was, so when Arthur saw the small girl hugging her knees to chest with sticky tear stains covering her face, he even surprised himself with his actions.

Being the personification of conflict, it isn’t much of a surprise that Arthur had not the slightest idea of what to do. The girl spoke up first, running a small hand over her cheeks,

“S-sorry. Please don’t tell my mummy, she’ll get upset too.”

“I won’t… what y’ cryin’ for though, huh? Y’ should be over there playin’ with the other kids.”

She pinched her face together, her tiny features scrunching up as she shook her head.

“Don’t wanna, they’re not nice to me,” y/n sniffled, glancing at the ground where she toyed with the shards of grass.

“They were laughing at me because I don’t have a daddy... they said it’s because of me but it’s not even my fault! Mummy said I used to have one, but I don’t anymore.” She pauses, trailing off. This was a sensitive topic for both her and her mother. May had always avoided the subject whenever y/n brought it up, and so she never really bothered to push her mother any further.

“D-do you know why I don’t have a daddy? Did I really do something wrong? It’s not actually my fault... is it?”

“Y’what? No, of course not poppet, that’s not your fault, none of this is your fau- which ones said it, huh? Which ones said all that, c’mon, tell me which little fuckers-“

Her head snapped up, eyes wide as her dainty hand flew up to cover her mouth, from which the tiniest giggle escaped.

“Oi, what’s funny?” Arthur grumbled with a small frown, though his frustration with the children had dissolved.

Another laugh ripped through the serenity of the atmosphere surrounding the two, and although it was clear the girl was laughing at him, Arthur couldn’t find it in himself to be remotely angry.

“You said a bad language word!” she squealed, followed by a small laugh from the God of war opposite her.

He sat himself down on the grass now, ignoring the strange look from the couple that passed him as he did.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

The girl held out her pinky, interlinking it with his much larger one.

“I promise.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Hades, although most people called him Michael, was the God of the Underworld. Michael was the same age as y/n, both younger than the majority of the Gods. Tommy had claimed that given Demeter’s specialty, it only made sense for y/n to be the goddess of spring, leaving the final job for Michael. But Michael didn’t have any family to vouch for him as y/n did, he was an affair child- something frowned upon in Olympus. And so his parents, whoever they were, abandoned him for the rest of the Gods to find. Tommy didn’t know anything about Michael, simply waiting for him to grow up before sending him off to rule the Underworld. But Michael didn’t belong there. Not to begin with anyway. Time turned him to stone, and after years upon years living with the agonising screams of the tortured souls, Michael inevitably turned cold. Despite being tucked away in the Underworld as soon as he hit 16, he wasn’t oblivious. He knew he was an affair child, he knew Tommy paid no attention to who he was before damning him to rule the Underworld, and after years of living in Hell, he knew that he despised y/n for stealing what could have been his.

❀ ❀ ❀

The distant sound of birdsong broke y/n out of her slumber. Pushing herself up from the ball she had curled up into, she ran a hand over her puffy eyes as a pout worked its way onto her lips.

“C’mon darling, up up up!”

“No, go away mom,”

Demeter folded her arms across her chest, a knowing look being cast in y/n’s direction.

“None of that now, you know just how important tonight is-”

“Yes, how could I forget that tonight will be the night you lot find a man to ship me off to?”

The older Goddess chuckled, placing herself down on the edge of y/n’s bed before continuing,

“Quite the opposite, actually. We’re going to find you someone as close as possible. And maybe even get him to come and live here, with us.”

Baring in mind her mother's romantic history and the amount of inner debating it took her mother to come to the conclusion she was ready for her daughter to marry, y/n knew she was better off staying silent whilst she dragged herself out of bed, unable to stop the small sigh that left her lips.

“Enough with your attitude, you might not want to get married but you know how bad it will look if you don’t. Trust me, being single is fun for now, but after a while when all your friends get married and start their own families, you’ll be left alone. And it took me a while to face the truth, but I know that I’m not going to put you through that because of my personal reasons.”

She shook her head, pulling her mother into a tight embrace.

“Tommy, Zeus, whatever we’re to call him, isn’t worth it, and you know that. He left you, you shouldn’t feel remotely guilty for what he did. You’re too good for him, Tommy and Grace make a perfect couple- they’re both just as low as each other. Remember the time she put a mortal through all those tests just because she slept with Tommy whilst he was pretending to be her husband? Is that what you’re jealous of? Hmm? Is that the man you want?”

Demeter chuckled, a small shake of her head as she placed her hand on her daughter’s cheek.

“Hush now, let’s not speak of other people in such a manner, have I not brought you up better than that?”

“But mom, she’s a bitch!”

❀ ❀ ❀

It was around midnight when he entered. When y/n had wished for a change in atmosphere, this was not what she meant.

Demeter hurried around the room, fussing over her daughter stood before the mirror whilst she scurried around the room in search of a towel, a cloth or maybe even a piece of fabric- she was desperate.

“I told you to let me dress closer to the time!” The younger women huffed, maneuvering her body away from the mirror to help her mother.

“Not another step! You’ve done enough damage as it is, can’t even trust you to sit in the garden without mucking up your dress, so don’t even think about moving.”

The event was set to start in the evening, and so y/n thought it would make sense to change into her formal gown closer to the time, though Demeter was having none of it. Brushing off y/n’s complaints with a “Oh, what’s the worst that can happen? Come on now, get a move on.”

With the dress on and nothing else to do, y/n headed to the garden to tend to the lillies she had planted a few days ago. How was she to know that her mother had gone and dug up a small hole in preparation for a new batch of Dahlias? So when she sat down to feed the delicate plants, a smidge of the dirt from the newly dug up grass stained the baby pink lace adorning the wrist she used to support herself to lean over to sprinkle the water over them. The dress itself was quite simple, a pretty shade of light pink. The top half was lace, clinging to her figure all the way down to her waist where a strip of silk the same shade connected it to the lower half, chiffon that hung freely from her hips. According to Demeter, it had taken months to create, though y/n found this highly unlikely. That’s not to say she didn’t feel any less guilty when she stood up, only to see the dirt embedded into the lace.

“Can’t you see there’s nothing of assistance in my room? There’s ample towels in the washroom, I’ll go fetch one.”

Hesitence was clearly etched onto May’s features, but nonetheless she agreed, following her daughter to the washroom.

Reaching for the nearest towel, y/n dipped the edge of it into a small bucket of water.

“Be careful, stop, hand it to me and I’ll do it.” May offered, though it was more of a demand.

More or less snatching the towel from her daughter’s grip, she began her attempt to get the stain out whilst trying to get a conversation flowing.

“Why do I feel I’m more excited than you are about tonight?”

“Maybe because you are?”

Eyes never leaving the task at hand, Demeter glanced at her daughter with a disapproving nod, the smallest sign of amusement lining her face, though when she spoke, her words dripped with sorrow.

“Do you want to end up like your mother? Lonely?”

Y/n shook her head, a small ‘no mother’ falling from her lips. She could sense the change in atmosphere, deeming it best to just keep her mouth shut for now.

May seemed to think the same, for the rest of the time spent getting out the stain was in an unbearably loud silence.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Oh, y/n it’s lovely!” May exclaimed, throwing her arms around her daughter’s small frame as the two women took in the sight before them.

With a fake smile plastered on her face, y/n gave her mother a small thumbs up, “yes, yes it’s nice.” May frowned down at her daughter, patting her arm gently before retracting her own back to her side.

“I’m gonna leave you to it now, yeah? Be nice,” Her mother warned, before leaving y/n to her own devices with nothing more than a curt nod in her direction.

The venue was nice, not even y/n’s lack of enthusiasm could take away the beauty of the wooden decor surrounding her. Vines clung to the pillars that stood in each corner of the room, and from the ceilings hung lanterns, illuminating the baby pink petals dusted along the floor.

“All this and you’re not even engaged yet? Bloody hell, weddings’ bound to be a sight, huh?”

Y/n froze. A voice of velvet, smoother than melted honey and so deep and gratifying, it left y/n with a desire to hear it again. And so she replied, her voice a much meeker sound.

“My mom just really wants me to get married.”

A few moments of silence passed, hurtling y/n into a state of panic at the lack of reply. She glanced up at him through her lashes in an attempt to find the reason without making it too blatant. The man that stood before her was clad entirely in black, with eyes deeper than the oceans and greener than the ample fields she used to play in when she was an infant. The the ash brown waves of locks on his head lay perfectly in place, apart from the single strand of stray hair that caressed his right cheekbone. He had a somewhat diamond shaped face, with defined and sturdy features; and of course a jawline sharp enough to cut the tension growing between the two. Though, it was his attire that set him apart from the people surrounding him. Exhibiting nothing but the colour black, y/n almost felt out of place standing before him in pink.

“Well, I highly doubt she would go to such extremes if she wanted to keep you.” He sneered, an amused expression playing on his features at y/n’s evident discomfort.

“I mean,” he began, cutting short her attempt at replying, “if I was adored by all of Olympus, I probably wouldn’t want to leave and marry either.”

Y/n frowned, though it seemed this had no effect n the stranger, who continued regardless.

“But no, I understand why someone like you wouldn’t want to marry. I’m sure no one is good enough for the little Goddess of life, isn’t that right? How could someone as perfect as Persephone ever find someone remotely fit to marry her?” His tone was loud enough to attract the attention of a few people nearby, and had y/n not been so surprised at the stranger’s outburst, she would have taken note as to how their eyes widened in recognition when they spotted him.

His gaze somewhat softened when he noticed her confused and hurt expression, and had he not have noticed the hand now upon y/n’s shoulder, he would’ve felt slight regret.

“Michael, how lovely of you to join us.” Spoke the voice behind her, removing his hand from y/n’s shoulder although he made no attempt to move. John. Being Arthur’s brother, he too was incredibly protective of y/n, despite only being a few years older than her.

“Poseidon, lovely to see you again!” Michael smirked, feigning enthusiasm.

With a nod in his direction and a, “likewise, we’ll have to reacquaint soon, but y/n’s mother requires her presence.”, John turned his back to the uninvited visitor, his grip on y/n’s wrist tight as he pulled her away from the scene, and in the direction of presumably her mother.

“Y/n can walk herself, you know.” She told John with a small smile on her face, though the roughness in her touch as she gripped his wrist to twist her own free gave her away.

“Could’ve just asked me to let go rather than nearly snap m’ radius bone… what’s with you anyway?” John murmured, nursing his bruising forearm and his tainted ego (Olympus was already aware of y/n’s combat skills, but having her get out of his grip without breaking a sweat in public wasn’t exactly something John was fond of).

Y/n shook her head, “I bloody had that! Dunno why you had to come and save the day, I was more than capable of dealing with him, John! Why does everyone treat me like I’m a kid?”

“Because you are?” John teased, his long legs only taking him a stride to catch up with her. “Oi,” He maneuvered himself so he was stood before her, leaving her no choice but to stop and look at him, “put this away,” he muttered, poking the small pout that had worked its way onto her face, “and listen to me. I didn’t choose to, I know you could handle it, but your mummy dearest on the other hand…” He snickered, watching as her face fell. “Seriously? How much comotion did she cause?” Y/n groaned, already conjuring up scenarios of her mother causing a fuss.

“Just got Arthur a bit worked up, Hades coming in and all.”

“Wait, who’s Ha-“

Before y/n was able to finish her question, May was out of her seat, clutching her daughter’s smaller frame to her own.

“Arthur, get over here before May snaps your daughter in half.” John yelled, the wide grin he was sporting oblivious to the attention he was drawing.

Arthur, however wore the exact opposite expression.

“What were thinking? Huh? Scared the life outta me ‘n May.” He told her, his voice holding a certain seriousness y/n had never heard from him before. May nodded in agreement, placing a gentle hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Darling, I know you like going off on your on and making your own decisions, but I need you to listen to us when we tell you he is bad news.”

“Who?” Y/n finally spoke. For a moment, she had begun to think Arthur and May had mistaken her for someone else- she’d spent the majority of the time mulling about by herself, and the man in the black suit seemed harmless. Incredibly mean and very very attractive, but harmless nonethelesss.

“Why, how many Gods of the Underworld have you been speaking to tonight?” May chuckled, though her face still held the same fear and worry it did when y/n had been dragged over by John.

“Underworld?”

Arthur, now slightly frustrated, sighed. “Y/n, that boy in the black suit, that’s Hades. Amongst the Gods he’s called Michael. The two of you, you’re about the same age. When Tommy was deciding who would be the God of what, he had assigned roles to everyone but the two of you. But Michael, his parents- whoever they are- had an affair when they had him, because he was abandoned at birth. To this day, we still don’t know which Gods did it, but as you know affairs are frowned upon here, and so by default so is the child. When it came to giving you and Michael your responsibilities, he had the options of the Underworld and, well what you have. He was only 16 when Tommy sent him there, the poor kid.”

Y/n shook her head, frowning at the older man.

“How’s that make him so dangerous?”

“Y/n, love, the lad hates you.”

wHOO OKAY SO I FINALLY DID THIS!!!!!! THIS IS MY FIRST EVERY FIC SO I APOLOGISE FOR HOW BAD IT IS AHAHAHA. IM SORRY THERES BARELY ANY Y/N X MICHAEL HERE BUT THE BACKSTORY IN THIS IS A BIT DIFFERENT TO THE REAL ONE SO I WANTED TO MAKE SURE ALL THAT STUFF WAS COVERED BEFORE I FULLY GOT INTO THE STORY, SO I SUPPOSE THIS IS MORE OF A PROLOGUE??? ANWAY, PLS LIKE & REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART TWO OR IF I SHOULD START SOMETHING ELSE INSTEAD!! ALSO, IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS OR HEACANONS ABOUT THE STORY OR THE CHARACTERS MY ASK BOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!! :D

#again I'm v sorry for the boringness #michael gray #peaky blinders #michael gray fanfic #michael gray fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #michael gray imagine #michael gray x reader #michael gray x you #finn cole imagine #finn cole x reader

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crimsondomingo · 6 years

Text

Day 27: Gods

For my July AU a Day Challenge

(thank you to ColdFlash Discord chat for helping spur some ideas!)

“Papa, tell me about the Earth and Sky again,” Michael said when Barry tucked him into bed.

Living most his life on a ship headed through the stars to find a new planet to call home, Michael loved stories of how things used to be before Barry and Len had chosen their names.

Barry glanced at Len leaning in the doorway to the little boy’s room with a soft smile. “Of course. Now, you have to remember, when Earth and Sky first came into existence, they were not friends.”

“They were enemies?” Michael asked, though he’d heard the story many times before.

“Nemeses, you might say,” Len said, walking into the room to sit on the end of the bed.

“You see, they couldn’t communicate, only feel each other’s presence, so they didn’t understand one another,” Barry continued, smiling between his husband and son. “Every time the Sky was dark or angry, the Earth believed he was angry with him, and every time the Earth rumbled, the Sky took it personally too. Until…” he trailed, knowing Michael would finish.

“Man!”

“That’s right. Until Man appeared and started to fill the Earth with life and look upon the Sky with wonder. Earth and Sky grew jealous of each other, angrier still, not wanting to share this new creation, but it was Man who realized the truth. A little boy actually, talking with his Papa one night.

“He wondered why Earth and Sky got so angry sometimes that even innocent people got hurt, and his Papa said it was because they had never learned to communicate.

“’Then they should learn!’ the boy said, ‘make themselves human so they can talk and understand each other.’ Earth and Sky heard this of course, and it was Sky who decided to see if the boy was right.”

“He was always the smarter one, you see,” Len said with a grin.

“I don’t know about that,” Barry blushed. “But he did as the boy suggested, made himself a human form, and came down to Earth himself. As he walked, he felt his own warmth from above, breathed the air they shared, touched the blades of grass, and saw wonders he had never been able to fully appreciate from so high up.

“He called to his nemesis. ‘Earth, I never realized how beautiful you were. Please, do as I have and come and talk so we can stop fighting.’

“The Earth listened and made himself a man as well. He too saw wonders he’d never truly appreciated, touched the grass, breathed the air, and basked in the sunlight of his Sky. They met in the middle of a field, two gods made men. They could have fought, they each considered it, wary of each other—”

“But they thought the other was handsome!” Michael chimed in.

“They were very drawn to each other, yes.” Barry tapped the boy’s nose, who giggled. “So, Sky spoke. ‘I am night and day, I am sunshine and the storm, light and darkness all in one. Earth needs that balance for the most beautiful parts of you to blossom. And if Sky does not have Earth below it, I would be nothing but empty vastness without someone to make a sunny day worth offering.’

“Earth was warier still as they circled closer to one another, saying, ‘Your storms send lightning that burn my fields.’ And Sky turned his face away, ashamed of his outbursts. ‘Yes, and you nurture man to create and invent in ways that cloud my skies.’

“’You blame me for our children’s advancements?’ Earth said.

“Sky was caught up short by his phrasing. ‘Our children?’ he said. ‘I suppose they are. When they burn your fields with war, I send floods to wash them away.’

“’And when they darken Sky with smoke and chemicals,’ Earth said, ‘I send plagues to thin their numbers.’

“’But I also warm them and give them something to dream about,’ Sky defended.

“’And I feed them and provide shelter,’ Earth said. ‘I may seem harsh and inhospitable, maybe even cruel, but…’ he trailed then, unsure what he meant to say.

“’But you are kind too,’ Sky finished for him, ‘with a light and goodness inside you, and so…so beautiful.’” Barry got lost for a moment, looking at that beauty now, remembering when his hand, newly created then, had reached to touch Len’s face.

“And they kissed and fell in love and everything was happy!” Michael squealed in delight, drawing Barry’s attention.

“Well, it wasn’t that easy. They did kiss and fall in love, but not wanting to give up their human forms and the new connection they shared, the powers of their godly forms found its own rhythm, best suited to keep the world and its people going with rain and sunshine and various terrain.

“Sometimes though, when Earth and Sky expressed their love, it caused earthquakes and thunderstorms, wild flowers blossoming and shooting stars above. Man always knew that the most beautiful spectacles were caused by their gods’ love for one another instead of hatred or anger, and the love they shared for Man too.”

“You wouldn’t send a flood after me, would you, Daddy?” Michael turned to Len sleepily.

“No, Michael. We learned long ago that there are better ways to deal with our children.”

“Even though Man made you leave?”

Len and Barry looked at each other. Millenia of Man wasn’t the only reason they had taken to the heavens. Their forms of Earth and Sky in that universe had grown old and weary and could not sustain Man anymore. It was time to move on for everyone, no resentment, just growth and change and new adventures.

It was only after leaving their heavenly bodies behind that Len and Barry discovered they could create life as humans did. When Michael was born, his own powers not yet known, if he’d have any at all, they’d wanted only to live as men and see what might come next.

“We chose to leave, Michael, for Man and so we could have you.” Barry leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

Len came around the other side of the bed to do the same. “And we have no regrets. So sleep, Little Horizon,” Len said, their nickname for him, since he was the creation of where Earth and Sky met. “All the new stories ahead of us are because of you.”

He slept, and Barry and Len left the room to walk the ship before taking to bed themselves.

The people on the ship did not know their true natures, but Barry and Len had heard whispers more than once whenever there was unexplained turbulence, shooting stars, or wild greenery in the gardens that it was the old gods keeping watch over them.

They would simply smile, never correcting the idea, and hold each other tighter that night, enjoying the bodies that had brought them together and would carry them into their next new dawns.

#coldflash #gods au #au a day challenge #crimson's writing

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cute-aggression-9 · 5 years

Text

I hate the fucking world, to many god damn fuckers it in. to many thoughts about societies all wrapped up together in this place called AMERICA. everyone has their own god damn opinions on every damn thing and you may be saying "well what makes you so different?". because I have something only me and V have, SELF AWARENESS, Call it exortenstiolism or whatever the fuck u want. we know what are to this world and what everyone else is. we learn more than what caused the civil war and how to simplify quadratics in school. we have been watching you people. we know what you think and how you act, all talk and no actions. people who are said to be brave or couragous are usually just STUPID then they say later that they did it on purpose cause they are brave when they did on fucking accident. GOD everything is so corrupt and so filled with opinions little and points of view and peoples' own little agendas and shedules. this isnt a world anymore, its H.O.E. and [no]one knows it. self awareness is a wonderful thing. I know I will die soon, so will you and everyone else. maybe will we be lucky and a comet will smash us back to day 1. people say it is immoral to follow others, they say be a leader. well here is a fuckin news flash for you stupid shits, everyone is a follower! everyone who says they arent a follower and then dresses diff. or acts diff. ... They got that from something they saw on TV or in film or in life. no originality, how many JO MAMMA jokes are there and how many do u think are original and not copied. KEINE. Its a fucking filthy place we live in. all these standards and laws and Great Expectations (webb) are making people into robots even though they might "think" they arent and try to deny it. no matter how hard they try to NOT copy someone I still AM! except for this fucking piece of paper right here, and B.T.W spelling is stupid unless I say. I say spell it how it sounds, it's the fuckin easiest way. hey try this sometime, when someone tells you something, ask "why?" eventually they will be stumped and cant answer anymore. thats because they only know what they need to know in society and school, not real life science. they will end up saying words to this "because! Just shut up!" people that only know stupid facts that arent important should be shot, what fucking use are they. NATURAL SELECTION. KILL all retards, people w/ brain fuck ups, drug adics, people cant figure out to use a fucking lighter. GEEEAWD! people spend millions of dollars on saving the lives of retards, and why. I don't buy that shit like "oh hes my son though!" so the fuck what, he aint normal, kill him, put him out his misery. he is only a waste of time and money, then people say "But he is worth the time, he is human too" no he isnt, if he was then he would swalow a bullet cause he would realize what a fucking waste and burden he was. -- 4/10/98 as I said before, self awareness is a wonderful thing. I know what all you fuckers are thinking and what to do to piss you off and make you feel bad. I always try to be different, but I always end up copying someone else. I try to be a mixture of different things and styles but when I step out of myself I end up looking like others or others THINK I am copying. One big fucking problem Is people telling me what to fuckin do, think, say, act, and everything else. Ill do what you say IF I feel like it. But people (I.E. parents, cops, God, teachers) telling me what to [arrow points to do, think, say, act, and everything else] just makes me not want to fucking do it! thats why my fucking name is REB!!! no one is worthy of shit unless I say they are, I feel like GOD and I wish I was, having everyone being OFFICIALLY lower than me. I already know that I am higher than almost anymore in the fucking welt in terms of universal Intelligence and where we stand in the universe compared to the rest of the UNIV. and if you think I dont know what Im talking about then you can just "ßUCK DICH" and saugen mein Hund! Isnt america supposed to be the land of the free? how come, If im free, I cant deprive a stupid fucking dumbshit from his possessions If he leaves then sitting in the front seat of his fucking van out in plain sight and in the middle fucking nowhere on a Fri fucking day night. NATURAL SELECTION. fucker should be shot. same thing with all those rich snotty toadies at my school. fuckers think they are higher than me and everyone else with all their $ just because they were born into it? Ich denk NEIN. BTW, "sorry" is just a word. it doesnt mean SHIT to me. everyone should be put to a test. an ULTIMATE DOOM test, see who can survive in an environtment using only smarts and military skills. put them in a doom world. no authority, no refuge, no BS copout excuses. If you cant figure out the area of a triangle or what "cation" means, you die! if you cant take down a demon w/ a chainsaw or kill a hell prince w/ a shotgun, you die! fucking snotty rich fuckheads [Censored by J.C.Sheriff Office] who rely on others or on sympathy or $ to get them through life should be put to this challenge. plus it would get rid of all the fat, retarded, crippled, stupid, dumb, ignorant, worthless people of this world. no one is worthy of this planet only me and who ever I choose. there is just no respect for anything higher than your fucking boss or parent. everyone should be shot out into space and only the people I saw should be left behind. 4/12/98 ever wonder why we go to school? besides getting a so called education. its not to obvious to most of you stupid fucks but for these who think a little more and deeper you should realize it. its societies way of turning all the young people into good little robots and factory workers thats why we sit in desks in rows and go by bell schedules, to get prepared for the real world cause "thats what its like". well god damit no it isnt! one thing that seperates us from other animals is the fact that we can carry on actual thoughts. so why don't we? people go on day by day. rutine shit. why cant we learn in school how we want to. why cant we sit on desks and on shelves and put our feet up and relax while we learn? cause thats not what the "real world is like" well hey fuckheads, there is no such thing as an actual "real world". its just another word like justice, sorry, pity, religion, faith, luck and so on. we are humans. if we dont like something we have the fucking ability to change! but we dont, atleast U dont. I would. U just whine/bitch thoughtout life but never do a goddamn thing to change anything. "man can eat, drink, fuck, and hunt and anything else he does is madness" - Based on Lem's quote. boy oh fuckin boy is that true. when I go NBK, and people say things like, "oh it was so tragic," or "oh he is crazy!" or "It was bloody!" I think, so the fuck what, you think thats a bad thing? just because your mommy and daddy told you blood and violence is bad, you think its a fucking law of nature? wrong, only science and math are true, everything, and I mean everyfuckingthing else is man made. my doctor wants to put me on medication to stop thinking about so many things and to stop getting angry. well, I think that anyone doesnt like me is just bullshitting themselves. try it sometime if you think you are worthy, which you probly will you little shits, drop all your beliefs and views and ideas that have been burned into your head and try to think about why your here. but I bet most of you fuckers cant even think that deep, so that is why you must die. how dare you think that I and you are part of the same species when we are sooooooo different. you arent human you are a Robot. you dont take advantage of your capabilites given to you at birth. you just drop them and hop onto the boat and headdown the stream of life with all the other fuckers of your type. well god damit I wont be a part of it! I have thought to much, realized to much, found out to much, and I am to self aware to just stop what I am thinking and go back to society because what I do and think isnt "right" or "morally accepted" NO, NO, NO GOD FUCKING DAMIT NO!I will sooner die than betray my own thoughts. but before I leave this worthless place, I will kill who ever I deam unfit for anything at all. especially life. and i fyou pissed me off in the past, you will die if I see you. because you might be able to piss off others and have it eventually all blow over, but not me. I dont forget people who wronged me. like [Censored by J.C. Sheriff Office] he will never get a chance to read this because he will be dead by me before this is discovered -- 4/21/98 The human race sucks. human nature is smuthered out by society, jobs, and work and school. instincts are deleted by laws. I see people say things that contradict themselves, or people that dont take any advantage to the gift of human life. they waste their minds on memorizing the stats of every college basketball player or how many words should be an a report when they should be using their brain on more important things. the human race isnt worth fighting for anymore. WWII was the last war worth fighting and was the last time human life and human brains did any good any made us proud. now, with the government having scandals and conspiracies all over the fucking place and lying to everyone all the time and with worthless pointless mindless discraceful TV shows on (scratched out) and with everyone ub-fucking-sessed with hollywood and beauty and fame and glamour and politics and anything famous, people just arent worth saving. Society may not realize what is happening but I have; you go to school, to get used to studying and learning how youre "supposed to" so that drains or filters out a little bit of human nature. but thats after your parents taught you whats right and wrong even though you may think differently, you still must to have more of your human nature blown out of your ass. society trys to make everyone act the same by burying all human nature and instincts. Thats what school, laws, jobs, and parents do If they realize it or not and them, the few who stick to their natural instincts are casted out as psychos or lunatics or strangers or just plain different. crazy, strange, weird, wild, these words are not bad or degrading.. if humans were let to live how we would naturaly it would be chaos and anarchy and the human race wouldnt probably last that long, but hey guess what, thats how its supposed to be!!!!! society and goverments are only created to have order and calmness, which is exactly the opposite of pure human nature. take away all your laws and morals and just see what you can do. if the goverment was one entity it would be thinking "hey, lets make some order here and calm these crazy fucks down so we can be constructive and fight other goverments in our own little so called self created "civilizied world" and get rid of all those damn insticts everyone has" well shit I'm to tired wright anymor tonight, so until next time, fuck you all -- 5/6/98 It has been confirmed, after getting my yearboook and watching people like [censored] and [censored] the human race isn't worth fighting for, only worth killing. give the Earth back to the animals, they deserve it infinitely more than we do. nothing means anything more, most quotes are worthless, especially the rearranged ones like "dont fight your enemies, make your enemies fight" you know, quotes that use the same phrase just rearranged, Dumbfuck shit [illegible] wear. its funny, people say "you shouldn't be so different." to me, and 1st I say fuck you dont tell me what I should and shouldn't be and 2ND mother fuckers different is good, I dont want to be like you or anyone which is almost impossible this day w/ all the little shits trying to be "original-copycats", I expect shits like you to criticize anyone who isnt one of your social words; "normal" or "civilized" - see tempest and Caliban. allyou degrading worthless shits. all caught up and brainwashed into the 90's society. "what? you AREN'T going to college, are you are crazy!" holy SHIT that is one fucking BIG Quote that just proves my point. step back and look at yourself fuckers, I dare you, maybe I'll get lucky and you'll step back to far like Nick in Elm3. w/ the same concequence. -- 5/9/98 wooh, different pen. HA! alright you pathetic fools listen up; I have figured it out. the human race strives for exellence in life and community always wanting to bring more =good= into the comm. and nulify =bad= things. anyone who thinks differently than the majority or the leaders is deamed "unusual" or weird or crazy. people want to be a part of something; a family, a service, a club, a union, a community, whatever. thats what humans want. who cares waht you as an individual thinks, you must do what you are told, whether it is jump of a bridge or drive on the right side of the road. protesters in the past protested because the human race that was dominant (Ghandi and the Brits or the king and the americans) wasnt working out = they had fault = they failed = their ideas didnt work. humans dont change that much, they only get better technology to do their work quicker/easier. people always say we shouldnt be racist. why not? Blacks ARE different, like it or not they are. they started on the bottom so why not keep em there. it took the centuries to convince us that they are equal but they still use their color as an excuse or they just discriminate us because we are white. Fuck you, we should ship yer black asses back to Afri-fucking-ca were you came from. we brought you here and we will take you back. America=White. Gays....well all gays, ALL gays, should be killed. mit keine fragen. lesbians are fun to watch if they are hot but still, its not human. its a fucking disease. you dont see bulls or roosters trying to fuck do you? no, I didn't think so. women you will always be under men. its been seen throughout nature, males are almost always doing the dangerous shit while the women stay back. its your animal instincts, deal with it or commit suicide, just do it quick. thats all for now. -- 5/20/98 If you recall your history the Nazis came up with a "final solution" to the Jewish problem... kill them all. well incase you havent figured it out yet, I say, "K I L L M A N K I N D" no one should survive. we all live in lies. people are saying they want to live in a perfect society, well utopia doesnt exist. It is human to have flaws. you know what, Fuck it. why should I have to explain myself to you survivors when half of the shit I say you shitheads wont understand and if you can then woopie fucking do. that just means you have something to say as my reason for killing. and the majority of the audience wont even understand my motives either! they'll say "ah, hes crazy, hes insane, oh well, I wonder if the bulls won." you see! it's fucking worthless! all you fuckers should die! DIE! what the fuck is the point if onlu some people see what I am saying, there will always be ones who dont, ones that are to dumb or naive or ignorrant or just plain retarded. If I cant pound it into every single persons head then it is pointless. fuck mercy fuck justic fuck morals fuck civilized fuck rules fuck laws... DIE manmade words...people think they apply to everything when they dont/cant. theres no such thing as True Good or True Evil, its all relative to the observer. its just all nature, chemistry, and math. deal with it. but since dealing with it seems impossible for mankind, since we have to slap warning labels on nature, then... you die. burn, melt, evaporate, decay, just go the fuck away!!!! YAAAAAH!!!! - 6/12/98- KEIN MITLEID "when in doubt, confuse the hell out the enemy" - Fly 9/2/98 wait mercy doesnt exist.... heres something to chew on....: today I saw a program on the discovery channel about satelites and radar and aircraft and stuff, and at the end of the show the narrator said some things that made me think "damn, we are so advanced, we kick ass, america is awesome, we have so many things in our military, we would kick anyones ass." for a minute I actually had some pride in our nation.... then I realized, "hey, this only the Good things that I am seeing here. only the Pros, not the cons. maybe thats what people see, only the Pros, and thats why they are under control. but me, I see all... you can only blind me for so long. but alas, I have realized that Yes, the human race is still indeed doomed. It just needs a few kick starts, like me, and hell, maybe even [censored]. If can whipe a few cities off the map, and even the fuckhead Holding the map, then great. hmm, just thinking if I want ALL humans dead or maybe just the quote-unquote "civilized, developed, and known-of" places on Earth. maybe leave little tribes of natives in the rain forest er something. hmm, I'll think about that. eh. done for tonight -REB- 6/13/98 As part of the human race, and having the great pleasure of being blessed with a brain, I can think. Humans can do whatever they want. There are no laws of nature that prevent humans from making choices. maybe from actually DOING some of those choices, but not from making the choice. If a man choosses to speed while driving home one day, then it is his fault for whatever happens. If he crashes into a school bus full of kidies and they all burn to death, its his fault. Its only a tragedy if you think it is, and then its only a tragedy in your own mind. so you shouldn't expect others to think that way also. it could also be a miracle for another person. maybe the bus stopped the car from plowing into a little old lady walking on the sidewalk. one could think it was a "miracle" that she wasnt hit. you see, anything and everything that happens in our world is just that, a HAPPENING. anything else is relative to the observer, but yet we try to have a "universal law" or "code" of what is good and bad and that just isnt fucking correct. we shouldn't be allowed to do that. we arent GODS. just because we are at the top of the food chain with our technology doesnt mean we can be "judges" of nature. sure we can think what we can think what we want, but you can "think" and "believe" you can judge people and nature all you want, but you are still wrong! why should your morals apply to everyone else. "morale" is just another word. and thats it. I think we are all a waste of natural resources and should be killed off, and since humans have the ability to choose... and I'm human... I think I will choose to kill and damage as much as nature allows me to so take that. fuck you, and eat napalm + lead! HA! only Nature can stop me. I know I could get shot by a cop after only killing a single person, but hey guess the fuck WHAT! I chose to kill that one person so get over it! Its MY fault! not my parents, not my brothers, not my friends, not my favorite bands, not computer games, not the media. IT is MINE! go shut the fuck up! -REB- 7/29/98 someones bound to say "what were they thinking?" when we go NBK or when we were planning it, so this what I am thinking. "I have a goal to destroy as much as possible so I must not be sidetracked by my feelings of sympathy, mercy, or any of that, so I will force myself to believe that everyone is just another monster from Doom like FH or FS or demons, so It's either me or them. I have to turn off my feelings." keep this is mind, I want to burn the world, I want to kill everyone except about 5 people, who I will name later, so If you are reading this you are lucky you escaped my rampage because I wanted to kill you. It will be very tricky getting all of our supplies, explosives, weaponry, ammo, and then hiding it all and then actually planting it all so we can achieve our goal. but if we get busted any time, we start killing then and there, just like Wilks from the AlIENS books, I aint going out without a fight. Once I finally start my killing, keep this in mind, there are probably about 100 people max in the school alone who I dont want to die, the rest, MUST FUCKING DIE! If I didnt like you or if you pissed me off and lived through my attacks, consider yourself one lucky god damn NIGGER. Pity that a lot of the dead will be a waste in someways, like dead hot chicks who were still bitches, they could have been good fucks. oh well, too fucking bad. life isnt fair... not by a long fuckin shot when Im at the wheel, too. God I want to torch and level everything in this whole fucking area but Bombs of that size are hard to make, and plus I would need a fuckin fully loaded A-10 to get every store on wadsworth and all the buildings downtown. heh, Imagine THAT ya fuckers, picture half of denver on fire just from me and Vodka. napalm on sides of skyscrapers and car garages blowing up from exploded gas tanks.... oh man that would be beautiful. -- 10/23/98 you know what, I feel like telling about lies. I lie a lot. almost constant. and to everybody, just to keep my own ass out of the water. and by the way (side note) I dont think I am doing this for attention, as some people may think. lets see, what are some big lies I have told; "yeah I stopped smoking," "for doing it not for getting caught," "no I'm havent been making more bombs," "no I wouldn't do that," and of course, countless of other ones, and yeah I know that I hate liers and I am one myself, oh fucking well. Its ok If I am a hypocrite, but no one else. because I am higher then you people, no matter what you say if you disagree I would shoot you And I am one racist mother fucker too, fuck the niggers and spics and chinks, unless they are cool, but sometimes they are so fucking retarded they deserve to be ripped on. some people go through life begging to be shot. and white fucks are just the same. if I could nuke the world I would, because so far I hate you all. there are probly around 10 people I wouldnt want to die, but hey, who ever said life is fair should be shot like the others too. - 11/1/98 heh heh heh. I sure had fun this weekend. lets see, what really happened. before going to the Rock n Bowl we stopped by King Soopers and one and [censored] picked up some big ass stoges. we then went to the Rock n Bowl and I had a few cigarettes and one of brand new cigars. we then went back to [censored] house where her mom had previousely bought us all a fuck load of liquor. personally I had asked for Tequilla and Irish cream, Vodka got his vodka, and there was beer, whiskey, schnopps, puckers, scotch and of course, orange juice! so we had some fun there playing cards and making drinks. we eventually made it to bed at about 5AM. got up at 10, went to safeway got some donouts and then I took Vodka home. the bottle of Tequilla is almost full and is in car, right by my spare tire and right by the bottle of irish cream. heh heh. I'll have to find a spot for those. and by the way, this nazi report is boosting my love of killing even more. like the early Nazi government, my brain is like a sponge, sucking up everything that sounds cool and leaving out all that is worthless, thats how Nazism was formed and thats how I will be too! 11/8/98 Fuck you Brady! all I want is a couple of guns, and thanks to your fucking bill I will probably not get any! come on, I'll have a clean record and I only want for personal protection. Its not like I'm some person who would go on a shooting spree.... fuckers. Ill probably end up nuking everything and fucking robbing some gun collectors house. Fuck, thatll be be hard. oh well, just as long as I kill a lot of fucking people. Everyone is always making fun of me because of how I look, how fucking weak I am and shit, well I will get you all back: ultimate fucking revenge here. you people could have shown more respect, treated me better, asked for my knowledge or guidence more, treated me more like senior, and maybe I wouldn't have been as ready to tear your fucking heads off. then again, I have always hated how I looked, I make fun of people who look like me, sometimes without even thinking sometimes just because I want to rip on myself. Thats where a lot of my hate grows from, the fact that I have practically no selfesteem, especially concerning girls and looks and such. therefore people make fun of me... constantly... therefore I get no respect and therefore I get fucking PISSED. as of this date I have enough explosives to kill about 100 people, and then if I get a couple bayonetts, swords, axes, whatever I'll be able to kill at least 10 more. and that just isnt enough! GUNS! I need guns! Give me some fucking firearms! 11/12/98 HATE! I'm full of hate and I Love it. I HATE PEOPLE and they better fucking fear me if they know whats good for em. yes I hate and I guess I want others to know it, yes I'm racist and I don't mind. Niggs and spics bring it on themselves, and another thing, I am very racist towards white trash p.o.s.s like [censored] and [censored] they deserve the hatred, otherwise I probly wouldnt hate them. Its a tragedy, the human nature of people will lead to their downfall. Peoples human nature will get them killed. whether by me or Vodka, Its happened before, and not just in school shootings like those pussy dumbasses over in Minnesota who squeeled. throughtout history, Its our fucking nature! I know how people are and why and I cant stand it! I love the nazis too... by the way, I fucking cant get enough of the swastika, the SS, and the iron cross. Hitler and his head boys fucked up a few times and it cost them the war, but I love their beliefs and who they were, what they did, and what they wanted. I know that form of gov couldn't have lasted long once the human equation was brought in, but damnit it sure looked good. every form of gov leads to downfalls, everything will always fuck up or yeah something. its all DOOMed god damnit. this is beginning to make me get in a corner. I'm showing too much of myself, my views and thoughts, people might start to wonder, smart ones will get nosey and something might happen to fuck me over, I might need to put on one helluva mask here to fool you all some more. fuck fuck fuck it'll be very fucking hard to hold out until April. If people would give me more compliments all of this might still be avoidable... but probably not. Whatever I do people make fun of me, and sometimes directly to my face. I'll get revenge soon enough. fuckers shouldn't have ripped on me so much huh! HA! then again its human nature to do what you did... so I guess I am also attacking the human race. I cant take it, Its not right... true... correct... perfect. I fucking hate the human equation. Nazism would be fucking great if it werent for individualism and our natural instinct to ask questions. you know what maybe I just need to get laid. maybe that'll just change some shit around. thats another thing, I am a fucking dog. I have fantasies of just taking someone and fucking them hard and strong. someone like [censored] were I just pick her up, take her to my room, tear off her shirt and pants and just eat her out and fuck her hard. I love flesh... weisses fleisch! dein weisses fleisch emegt mich soo... Ich bin dech nur ein gigilo! I want to grab a few different girls in my gym class, take them into a room, pull their pants off and fuck them hard. I love flesh... the smooth legs, the large breasts, the innocent flawless body, the eyes, the hair; jet black, blond, white, brown. ahhh I just want to fuck! call it teenage hormones or call it a crazy fuckin racist rapist... BJ ist mir egal. I just want to be surrounded by the flesh of a woman, someone like [censored] who I wanted to just fuck like hell, she made me practically drool, when she wore those shorts to work.. instant hard on. I couldnt stop staring. and others like [censored] in my gym class, [censored] or whatever in my gym class, and others who I just want to overpower and engulf myself in them. mmmm I can taste the sweet flesh now... the salty sweat, the animalistic movement... Iccchhh... lieeebe...... fleisccchhhh. who can I trick into my room first? I can sweep someone off their feet, tell them what they want to hear, be all nice and sweet, and then "fuck em like an animal, feel them from the inside" as Reznor said. oh... thats something else... that one NIN video I saw, broken or closer or something, the where the guy is kidnapped and tortured like hell... actual hell. I want to do that too. I want to tear a throat out with my own teeth like a pop can. I want to gut someone with my hand, to tear a head off and rip out the heart and lungs from the neck, to stab someone in the gut, shove it up to the heart, and yank the fucking blade out of their rib cage! I want to grab some weak little freshman and just tear them apart like a fucking wolf. show them who is god. strangle them, squish their head, bite their temples into the skull, rip off their jaw. rip off their colar bones, break their arms in half and twist them around, the lovely sounds of bones cracking and flesh ripping, ahh... so much to do and so little chances. -- 11/17/98 "weisses fleisch" - perfect - song - for - me Well folks, today was a very important day in the history of R. Today along with Vodka and someone else who I wont name, we went downtown and purchased the following; a double barrel 12ga. shotgun, a pump action 12ga. shotgun, a 9mm carbine, 250 9mm rounds, 15 12ga slugs, 40 shotgun shells, 2 switch blade knives, and total of 4 - 10 round clips for the carbine. we....... have.... GUNS! we fucking got em you sons of bitches! HA! HAHAHA! neener! Booga Booga. heh. its all over now. this capped it off, the point of no return. I have my carbine, shotgun, ammo and knife all in my trunk tonight and theyll there till tomorrow... after school you know its really a shame. I had a lot of fun at that gun show, I would have loved it if you were there dad. we would done some major bonding. would have been great. oh well. but, alas, I fucked up and told [censored] about my "flask". that really disappoints me. [censored] I know you thought it was good for me... in the long run and all that shit, smart of you to give me a such big raise and then rat me out, you figure it was supposed to cancel each other? god damn flask, that just fucked me over big time. now you all will be on my ass even more than before about being on track. I'll get around it though, If have to cheat and lie to everyone then thats fine. THIS is what I am motivated for, THIS is my goal. THIS is what I want to do with my life! you know whats weird, I dont feel like a punching through a door because of the flask deal, probly cause I am fucking armed now. I feel more confident, stronger, and more Godlike. I have confidence in my ability to dese(cei)ve people. hopefully Ill make it to April, but that might not happen. Ug, Its been a busy weekend, I need to sleep, I'll continue tomorrow. 11/22/98 yesterday we fired our first actual firearms ever. 3 rounds from the carbine. taught that ground a thing or 2. I even had the 2 clips in my pocket while talking to vodkas dad about senior ditch day. God it felt great firing off that bad boy, and hopefully I'll be able to get more than just 4 clips for it. I dubbed my shotgun "Arlene" after Arlene Sanders from the DOOM books. She always did love the shotgun. Vodka's DB is looking very fucking awesome, all cut down to the proper lengths. this is a bitch trying to keep up on homework while working on my guns, bombs, and lying. by the way, I bought that flask in the mall and I had a friend fill it up w/ scotch whiskey, only had about 3 swigs in the 3 weeks I had it. plus monday I gave my T and IC to Vodka, just in case. I never really did like alcohol, just wasn't my thing, but It felt good to just have around. that argument on the 22nd was a real bitch, but I think I should have won a fucking oscar. I even quoted a few movies, remember "what the hell am I gonna do now man?! what am I gonna do!?" thats good ole Hudson from aliens. Sounded good too. and hey goddamnit I would have been a fucking great marine, It would have given me a reason to do good. and I would never drink and drive, either. It will be weird when we actually go on the rampage. hopefully we will have plenty of clips and bombs. Im gonna still try and get my calico 9mm. just think, 100 rounds without reloading.... hell yeah! We actually may have a chance to get some machine pistols thanks to the Brady bill. If we can save up about 200$ real quick and find someone who is 21+ we can go to the next gun show and find a private dealer and buy ourselves some bad-ass AB-10 machine pistols. Clips for those things can get really fucking big too. 12/3/98 Woohoo, I'll never have to take a final again! feels good to be free. I just love Hobbes and Nietzche. Well tomorrow I'll be ordering 9 more 10 round clips for my carbine. I'm gonna be so fucking loaded in about a month. the big things we need to figure now is the time bombs for the commons and how we will get them in and leave then there to go off, without any fucking Jews finding them. I wonder if anyone will write a book on me. sure is a ton of symbolism, double meanings, themes, appearance vs reality shit going on here. oh well, it better be fuckin good if it is writtin. 12/17/98 heh, get this. KMFDM's new album is entitled "Adios" and it's release date is in April. how fuckin appropriate, a subliminal final "Adios" tribute to Reb and Vodka. thanks KMFDM... I ripped the hell outa the system 12/20/98 jesus christ that was fucking close. fucking shitheads at the gun shop almost dropped the whole project. oh well, thank god I can BS so fucking well. I went and picked up those babies today, so now I got 13 of those niggers. WOOHAH. the stereo is very nice, but having no insurance payments to worry about so I could concentrate of BOMBS would have been better. oh well, I think I'll have enough. now I just need to get Vodka another gun. 12/29/98 Months have passed. Its the first Friday night in the final month. much shit has happened. Vodka has a Tec 9, we test fired all of our babies, we have 6 time clocks ready, 39 crickets, 24 pipe bombs, and the napalm is under construction. Right now I'm trying to get fucked and trying to finish off these time bombs. NBK came quick. why the fuck cant I get any? I mean, I'm nice and considerate and all that shit, but nooooo. I think I try to hard. but I kinda need to considering NBK is closing in. The amount of dramatic irony and foreshadowing is fucking amazing. Everything I see and I hear I incorporate into NBK somehow. Either bombs, clocks, guns, napalm, killing people, any and everything finds some tie to it. feels like a Goddamn movie sometimes. I wanna try to put some mines and trip bombs around this town too maybe. Get a few extra flags on the scoreboard. I hate you people for leaving me out of so many fun things. And no don't fucking say, "well thats your fault" because it isnt, you people had my phone #, and I asked and all, but no. no no no dont let the weird looking Eric KID come along, ohh fucking nooo. 4/3/99

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nadiya-m · 3 years

Text

(Dont judge before reading the whole writing).

May 18th 2021

What is my worth?

Do some see me as human being or lower me to a level where they name me as their pet? Cat or dog? As if synchronized even?

Did I became someone's toy? Puppet? While not knowing anything about this? Because truly, I feel robotized.

Being watched 24 hours a day. 7 days a week. "They" even see me nude. And my own family gets so brainwashed and drugged I am afraid that they forget about me as being their own daughter. I see their minds vanishing away. As they put in other memories about me or who I should be. I see no other answer. I know them the best. And my youngest oldest brother is too scared to say a true thing. I can only see it in their eyes and he knows. So he barely looks at me, directly.

I am called the devil by the people who raised me. These people are my parents.

I am being called cat and dog by people who didnt raised me. These people are nothing to me.

When I eat I hear my, our, horror cat someone I dont want to put on a level to name him my ex but I do now, miauwing. I have to live now by force with our cat in my apartment. In order for safety i would during pregnancy sleep seperate. As I would otherwise get attacked and worse out of my sleep sometimes. I brought my cat to the vet because I was feeling sorry for my cat a bit as I was too poor to actually have a cat. That man convinced me that our cat didnt needed vaccins. Or when having a vlooienplaag in the house not any treatment needed. I would give my cat treatment. And so brought my cat to the vet. With almost no money. After breaking up it all became a hell. As if being punished. Still my cat is waiting for his owner to come. After our cat accomplished his job maybe. Do I want to know? I dont like being attacked in my face as it many times happend out of nowhere or when just opening the door of the toilet or so. Or when saying something rude to myself about the owner of our cat. Actually, the truth sounds rude to others when they cant stand it. I know someone truly can love when that person stands the truth and appreciates honesty.

I feel sorry for living creatures to be made as propety of those who dont know much about love. And look for those who learn and search for love as their target. Do they hate beauty? I sometimes question myself. In this case "they" are those who sended me a postcard before mothersday from my son with "from us" on it. Naming no ones name. No daddy to be named.

But "us". So I call them: they. As they are a group. I am afraid. Who do such things to many. And dont love in a natural way. Can I say that?

My son was showing on the photograph to be in a poor state. Malnutrition showing as he looks to be not growing properly when I look at this shoulders. Clothes he still can wear that I bought for him as newborn while he is born in October 27th 2020. 6plus months. And still newborn clothes? When I gave birth they gave me clothes as present for 6 months. I knew enough somewhere. Was I allowed to show care and love as mother? To be a mother myself? A parent? To give attention to our son? To someone else? What are we as humans without care, attention and so love in this way? No one wish to raise his child with hate. That will bring dictators to the world. I always knew.

So plan A didnt worked out that well.

Brainwash me and drug me in a way that I would become their pet.

Plan B is to make me homeless and mommy said I would become a whore in Amsterdam. A slut. Many times these month they almost accomplished to make me homeless. And made me "missing" from the radar while just being at home according to the police.

I have no phone. As I buy it and they hack it in a way that it isnt my phone anymore. They decide who I can reach out to. And take even over the chats with my parents. As they cant speak Dutch properly are close to none. They have access to my house. I live in Megen where I have to live with elderly people facing their last stage of life in a bejaardenhuis/verzorgingshuis. With a beautiful view. No, not the church but the clouds. Beautiful clouds I can daydream on. I see beauty everyday while I should see darkness. I am grateful for this gift that I still am able to see beauty.

Proudly I am African. Somali. I see myself as citizen of the world. As I dont know where I truly belong to. I feel a connection to the world. With Mother Nature. I care about Mother Nature as if almost a mother. And everything that lives I see as having feel too. Even if this isnt scientifically proven yet. What do we know? What do I know? Almost nothing. What is a good thing somewhere. Be curious enough to go after the real thing I would say. And the truth. To find out the meaning and worth of life and beauty. With no weird psychology. No racism. No hate. No underestimating of me, a lady. Now 25 years. Born on the last day of November in 1995. Oss, North-Brabant, The Netherlands.

I should be recylced they say.

"Please recycle!"

Hobbies such as photography, writing and sketching is been taken away from me. Animals dont show such human activity isnt?

I wonder when they are going to teach me how to miauw or woof while I am about to metaphorically make the next Mona Lisa or Vermeers Girl with the pearl. Well, I make pensketches. I paint with ink or pencil. It runs in my blood to paint but I never got lessons. To poor. I make abstracts with paint instead.

Somali people before war used to be free. And open minded. At least more than now.

As being robotized (only when near them) lady and citizen of the world, no dog, no cat, no monster, no ghost, no devil. But as Nadiya Mohado. Hi. To THE WORLD i got to know by watching documentary's. NatGeo and BBC. The list is endless. After reading their magazine I got from my dad in 2009 everything changed for me. I want to become a journalist and write. Discover the world. I get to see a whole different world meanwhile. Maybe that is needed in order to know more about what some hide for others. I feel like writing a whole book in one week to reflect on love and life. And modern slavery. Cause I am caughed as many others in this. And still I question about love and life. Waiting to see if true journalists still work as they should work. Hear both sides of the story. Instead of manipulated work as they are not live there. I watch and learn. And so I learn more about life. And love.

Many attemps I have witnessed. Torturements. I still love. Still believe. Still look for the real thing if we talk about love.

I have felt connections of beautiful souls I met during severe ilness. Doctors. They would save my life in secret behind my back or made deals with these people so I could live longer. We had by accident a thing going on. They were older. It never came to touch. I dont approach men. Gentlemans I wait for. But someone blocks their way and break their hearts and mine a bit. I get to hear what lies they have heard as they force me to still go there while I refuse to. These people find it funny or so to play with feel as they dont feel on our levels. I try to take distance as much as I can in order for safety as they have important jobs. If there were not any feelings involved I would go to court and make money on them. But I cant. Now. So I blame it on love somewhere as I know they still believe in these lies. Maybe its better. I dont want to cause more trouble. They need their focus, and I think its not for me to say how these things go. I am just 25. And patient for love. Mother Nature or I dont know what force made us almost fall in love. Almost.

- I wish to dance in the rain. Wash my sorrows away from yesterday. Make place for better days. And start the day with what I hope one day the love of my life saying goodmorning to me with warmth and touch only true lovers or soulmates are able to feel.

I feel a connection. For a long time now. Through these times I still havent give up on love.

I love now in silence. I am not in love but will wait. Patiently. Love in this could mean anything. Love romantically, and broadly to show care and be good for others.

- So, still patiently enough to wait.

Here I wait.

Nadiya M...

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imagine-loki · 6 years

Text

The Baseborn Princess and the Aesir Prince

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a bastard daughter of a king of a far off realm, the product of his drunken loneliness at battle. His guilt of cheating on his wife drove him to send you to live on Midgard, but due to the fact that his other children (and his wife) adore you, you’re often invited to visit. RATING: Teen and Up

Clodagh already hated the women she was surrounded by, they were so scathing and toxic, she wanted nothing to do with them, she was relieved when finally she got to Amelia and the half-sisters stayed together.

Asgard was like nothing they had ever seen, big, gold and bold were the best words for it in Clodagh’s opinion. She looked around the city as their carriages made their way into it. She watched as a little girl who dropped her toy without noticing as they passed, immediately she had the carriage stopped so that she could get out. ‘Here you go.’ She smiled, giving the girl back her toy. ‘I had one of these when I was your age too, they are so much fun.’

‘Yes, she sings.’

‘Well, my one didn’t do that, I am so jealous.’ She smiled.

The girl beamed at her. ‘Are you a princess?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Are you going to marry Prince Thor or Prince Loki?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I think you should.’

‘Well, thank you.’ She smiled. ‘What is your name?’

‘Mia.’

‘Mia is such a beautiful name. I wish my name was that pretty.’

‘What’s yours?’

‘Clodagh.’

‘That’s….different,’ Clodagh erupted in laughter, as did most anyone listening to them.

‘It is very different. It is the name of a river in Alfheim.’

‘Why are you named after a river?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Did your daddy lose a bet, my daddy did once and that is why he had to do something silly.’

‘I am so sorry.’ The girl’s mother pulled her back. ‘Please excuse her lack of manners.’

‘Please, she is a child, she is alright.’ Clodagh smiled. ‘And regarding her words, children are so pure and honest, it is so lovely to see one so at ease with herself, she is a credit to you.’ The woman stared in shock at her kind words. ‘Mia, I hope you have a lovely day and take care of your toy.’

‘I will, bye Princess.’

Clodagh did not correct the child, instead, she just smiled and waved. Amelia smiled at her sister, knowing her love for children, often offering to hold her nephews or nieces for her brothers when she visited. The other women in the carriage, however, gave dirty looks at her for delaying them. Finally, the carriage made its way to the palace again.

Frigga, who was in a carriage to the front of the convoy looked in interest at the scene she had just witnessed, smiling as she continued to the palace. When she got there she waited for all the carriages of women to arrive. The last of which, holding Clodagh and Amelia as well as two others, was over three minutes delayed, leaving the other women to whisper among themselves and make comments about the odd girl stopping the carriage.

Finally, the carriage arrived and the two women that were there with Amelia and Clodagh seemed almost distraught at the delay. ‘Now, you will all be settled into a guest corridor, there you will all have to share quarters with another girl, and you will be expected to have your staff liaise with staff of the palace here, so do not hesitate to ask for anything, but remember that this palace is not like any you were reared in, it is also the centre of business for Asgard and many other realms.

At being told that they were having to share quarters, the most of the girls baulked, wanting to tantrum and strop, but they knew the Allmother was watching. As soon as she said it, Amelia and Clodagh looked at one another and nodded, the sisters standing beside one another, there was no one else Clodagh could consider. There were other sisters present, but they seemed to be willing to slit one another’s throats in order to get ahead, Amelia was not interested in being in competition with her sister, and Clodagh did not think herself as being part of the group in general, she thought herself there to make up the numbers, a formality, she would not think herself to have a chance.

They made their way through the palace to their rooms, Amelia and Clodagh speaking in one another's confidence as they did. They were left to settle and prepare for the evening.

‘It’s all so much bigger here.’ Amelia commented. ‘If you find they are not agreeable, what will you do?’

‘Go home as soon as I am allowed. I should not be here to begin with.’ Clodagh responded. ‘I am not like you.’

‘You better not be lobbing me in with that lot.’ Amelia stated indignantly.

‘No, you’re nothing like them, but I am not like any of you.’ Clodagh explained, toying with her fingers.

‘Clods, seriously, you are of better bloodlines than most people here, you need to stop this self-deprivation of yours, you are royal by blood, and you look exactly like Grandmother, it is scary. I often wonder what your mother looked like to say you are so identical to Lily.’

Clodagh looked at her sadly. ‘I have no idea, I don’t know anything about her.’

‘Nothing?’ Clodagh shook her head. Amelia pulled her close.

‘Lydia has been so kind to me, you all have, but I know nothing of the woman I should call mother.’ Clodagh looked around. ‘I have no idea what I am doing here ‘Meils.’

‘Okay, I am going to help you learn some things that will help, don’t worry.’

‘I thought you said there was twenty-seven, I counted twenty-eight young women.’ Odin commented as his wife joined him on the balcony of their rooms that overlooked the city.

‘Yes, twenty-eight.’

‘Where did we accumulate the extra one, Midgard? Can you believe the number of Royal families that place has?’

‘Alfheim.’ Odin frowned and looked at his wife. ‘Did you know that Sika has an illegitimate daughter?’

‘I heard rumours there was one more than Lydia gave him, but details I was not sure, no one seems to know particulars.’

‘He sired her during the Elven War, she was born to the camp Healer, she is in the Late Queen Lily’s image and by far the kindest creature I have ever lay eyes on.’

‘Is she the one to stop the carriage?’

‘That was her.’ Frigga nodded.

‘What are they like?’

‘Every sort, scheming, intelligent, dense, boring, dull, bright, attentive, everything really.’

‘Any potentials?’

‘About five possibles between them both.’

‘We just need two.’ Odin commented.

‘Do you know what Sika’s daughter refers to herself as?’

‘Well, you have said she is kind, so I doubt it is some form of delusions of grandeur.’ Frigga did not respond. ‘What does she call herself?’

‘That word.’

‘Which?’ Odin demanded before his wife’s face told him. ‘You cannot be serious?’

‘She calls herself it, and feels she deserves to be called it.’ Frigga stated sadly.

‘Frigga, do not get attached, there are so many girls, you cannot…’

‘If she is not suited to either of our boys, I am asking her to stay as my Lady in waiting.’ Frigga stated.

‘Of course you are.’ Odin growled, knowing better than to argue.

The wing the girls were being kept in was large and though there were extra rooms, they were told to remain only their own. Already people were stating they were going to break the request, or had done so immediately and took a room to themselves. Amelia and Clodagh just watched in shock at such audacity.

‘She could be testing us.’ Amelia stated to Clodagh as they left their rooms for dinner.

‘Could, she is, wait and see, there will be issues with this.’ Clodagh stated. ‘You don’t just go into someone else’s house and decide yourself what you are doing.’

‘A true princess would never accept such demands and the Allmother knows it,’ One princess that overheard them declared. ‘A princess has to take command of the situation, show that she is able to do what she needs to.’

‘We are here five minutes, we have no right.’ Clodagh stated.

‘That is the difference between a Vanir and an Elf, we are confident.’ The girl scoffed before walking off.

‘That and her father is also her mother’s brother.’ Amelia whispered into Clodagh’s ear.

‘Do not stoop to their level.’ Clodagh warned, ‘You’re better than them.’

They spoke to a few of the other girls, trying to ascertain who was someone they would actually talk to and who would be best to avoid. The princess Clodagh found herself speaking to the most was a Niflheim one, Regina, she was intelligent and completely disinterested with the whole situation. She had no interest in the Aesir royals, they were “too soft” for her liking. She was very much interested in Helblindi, the son of Laufey of Jotunheim, but she wanted to use the opportunity to reach out to the Aesir princes, help broker trade and friendship with Asgard, meaning she was not interested in the politics of bratty women trying to one-up others either, and in turn, it made her a good conversational partner for the Elven sisters.

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siriuslysnuffles · 6 years

Text

A Fawn’s Christmas

just expect everything to be late. can also be read here on ffn!

(December 25, 1980)

James Potter had always been an earlier riser from the moment he was born. It was no surprise, therefore, that he was the first one to wake up on Christmas Day at the Potters’ home in Godric’s Hollow.

He woke up to the beautiful sight of his wife’s curly hair sprawled across his chest. The top of her (his) shirt beginning to slide off her shoulders. He felt her legs tangled with his, and he couldn’t help the smile that emerged at seeing his wife in such a peaceful state. They’ve been in hiding for almost six months, and James couldn’t help but feel hopeless at times.

It was morning like these–when he allowed himself to take in the beauty that was Lily Potter–that helped remind himself that he was still luckier than most. The war was still going on, but he still had his friends, his lovely wife, and his beautiful son.

He was careful not to wake Lily up when disentangling himself from her. He placed a pillow under her head and readjusted the sheets to cover her properly. Lily shifted slightly before sighing softly into the bed.

James watched as his son’s green eyes focused on him as he entered the room.

‘Hello, my little love.’ He cooed to the little boy as he picked him up from his cot. ‘Do you know what today is?’

The infant in his arm looked up at his father, his facial features expressing his confusion. James ruffled up his son’s little tuft of hair.

‘I suppose you don’t understand me quite yet. But don’t worry,’ he assured his son. ‘Mummy doesn’t either.’

He placed Harry in his highchair and his wand on the table before quickly turning his attention to Godric who had wandered down. He grabbed the cat’s food from the cupboard and poured him the proper amount.

James gave the cat a quick stroke before returning to Harry.

He laughed as he saw his son slightly levitating James’ wand towards him. It wasn’t the first bit of incidental magic they had seen from the young boy.

‘Harry,’ James said in what should have been a strict tone. His son was too cute, however, for James to be able to speak to him in such a tone.

‘I really need to stop leaving the wand on the table. Mummy’s going to murder me for it one day.’ He placed said wand in his back pocket instead.

Harry began whimpering at having the wand taken away from him.

‘Stop that.’ James’ eyes widened as they always did whenever Harry made any noise other than content. Harry’s whimpering continued, almost like he was challenging his father.

James quickly began looking in the kitchen for Harry’s favourite dummy. He carefully placed the dummy in Harry’s mouth and sighed in relief as Harry’s whimpering ceased.

He placed a kiss on his son’s head. ‘Fuck, you’ll be the death of me, love.’ His eyes widened once more, ‘I really need to stop saying that in front of you. Mummy will never forgive me if that’s amongst your first words.’

A grin appeared on James’ face. ‘I suppose I could always blame your Godfather Sirius for that.’

‘Good morning,’ Lily said as she walked into the kitchen, Godric purring against her leg as she passed by him.

She placed a soft kiss against her husband’s cheek.

‘Sleep well?’ He asked as he handed her a piece of bacon.

‘Mmm…some prat wouldn’t let me sleep last night.’

The redhead took her son from the highchair as she noticed his hands reaching out for her. She kissed his forehead tenderly as he began snuggling into her.

‘Are you hungry, Harry?’ He stared at her with the eyes so like her own. She coarsed the dummy away from him and placed it on the table. Her fingers began unbuttoning the shirt she borrowed from her husband.

‘What?’ Lily turned to look at the older of her two loves.

‘Gorgeous,’ he sighed as he looked at her flushed face.

‘Stop it.’ He came behind her, placing a loving kiss on the top of her head.

Harry watched his parents, not happy at having his mother’s attention diverted from him.

‘Definitely hungry,’ Lily muttered.

‘Is he asleep?’ James asked as Lily covered up her son with his blue blanket.

‘Yes,’ she stroked her son’s black hair gently. ‘You know he usually gets sleepy once he feeds.’ She looked at her innocent son.

Today would not be the day to focus on what might come.

James gently took their son from her arms, sitting down next to her. Lily adjusted herself so her head was lying on his lap.

‘Tired?’ He questioned her with a mischievous look in his eyes.

‘Mmm…’ She let her fingers draw circles on his thigh. ‘Someone kept me up all night.’

‘Really?’ He said as she giggled into him.

‘Yes, special snuggling.’ She teased him referring to his parents’ special term for sex.

‘Don’t use that kind of language in front of my son’s innocent ears.’ He said, covering up Harry’s tiny ears in mock horror.

‘Shut it, you prat.’

‘Mmm…Lil.’ James heard a giggle emitted from the girl in question.

‘Sorry, Jamie,’ she said giving him a look that contradicted her statement.

‘Look at Harry’s outfit,’ she said as she lifted her son into her arms before he attempted to harass Godric again.

James snorted. ‘Mummy dressed you like a fawn, did she?’ He cooed to his pride and joy.

‘He’s a reindeer,’ Lily corrected. ‘I promised Sirius we would wear the matching outfits he got us.’ She kissed her son’s cheek. ‘I think he looks cute.’

‘Of course he does, he’s my son.’

Lily snorted. ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night.’ She gave him a quick peck on the lips before handing him Harry. ‘It’s your turn to change his nappy.’

He groaned, sending her a playful glare.

‘Come on, my little fawn.’ He said bouncing his son up and down. Harry cooed at James’ action, sending James’ heart in overload.

‘Don’t tell Mummy, but you get all your good qualities from her. Let’s hope that includes your eyesight, yeah?’

Harry laughed innocently as James smiled down at him.

There are worse things than getting to spend the day with his family.

‘Lily,’ James sighed as he came downstairs after putting Harry down for his nap. ‘Why is our cat dressed up in a Santa suit.’

‘Godric likes it.’ James looked back at the black cat that seemed to be glaring at his wife in disbelief.

James picked him up cautiously. ‘I’m sorry, but she really likes Christmas.’ The cat swiped at James’ jumper. ‘You’re a grouchy Santa, aren’t you?’ He set Godric down before the little beast became tempted to scratch him.

‘It’s Christmas,’ Lily mumbled into his chest.

‘Mmm…’ He dropped a kiss onto her cheek, letting the slight stubble on his face brush against her as he trailed kisses to her neck.

She moaned slightly before pushing him away.

‘Come on, deer boy,’ she said as she began dragging him upstairs. ‘We have less than two hours before he wakes up again.’ She looked at him with a mischievous look in her eyes. ‘And I do think you’ve been rather great this year.’

‘Only for you, Evans.’ His voice was slightly hoarse.

‘It’s Potter.’ She corrected, turning to place a quick kiss to his lips.

He was a goner.

‘Harry’ll be awake soon.’ He said as he trailed his hand up and down her back, loving the way she shivered slightly at the action.

‘He’s like a little timer.’ She grinned up at him. ‘But he’s ours, James.’

‘Ours,’ he said before kissing her lips gently.

‘Maybe we’ll give him a little brother or sister one day.’ James said as he began playing with her hair. ‘A little girl or boy with your hair.’

‘Or your hazel eyes.’ She adjusted herself, so she was hovering above him. She kissed her husband’s nose.

He smiled fondly at her. ‘Let’s get dressed, love. Sirius will be here later. Remus might pop in but the full moon was only a few days ago, and Peter’s spending it with his mum.’

He got up from his place next to her, a small kiss to her cheek. ‘Happy Christmas, love.’

‘Happy Christmas, James.’

‘Do you want to open one of your presents, Harry?’ James asked as Lily came into the living room.

‘Mama,’ Harry said, squirming in James’ arms.

James laughed. ‘Yes, love, Mummy’s wonderful.’

Lily took the baby boy from him. ‘Is Daddy being silly again, Harry?’

‘It’s not my fault he adores you so much, not that I blame him.’ He ran a hand through his own hair. ‘I know too well what it’s like to crave your attention. The difference is Harry actually gets it.’

‘You got my attention just fine.’ She nudged him teasingly. ‘Your problem was that you were a major prat.’

‘S’not my fault that once fourth-year came some redhead minx decided to steal my heart.’

‘More like your brain,’ she giggled. ‘Didn’t you once fall off your broom when I came to your Quidditch practice?’

‘It might’ve happened.’ He looked at his wife affectionately. ‘Fifth-year, if I recall correctly, you had just started dating Adam Mumps. I wanted to impress you, and we both know that never worked out well for me.’

She pressed her head against his arm. ‘Let’s hope Harry’s better with girls than you were.’

‘Harry’s nappy is fine, Godric’s fine, the presents are under the tree, and Sirius should be here soon.’ He adjusted the faux antlers on his head.

James took in his wife’s reindeer attire.

‘I’m very fawned of you, my deer.’

‘No,’ she said, shaking her head at James’ puns.

He took the hand that wasn’t wrapped around their son, and he adjusted a strand of hair behind her ear and adjusted her antlers.

They heard a noise outside and a pair of voices.

‘They’re here.’ Lily grinned at him before running towards the door.

‘Does Mummy like them more than me, Har?’ He asked his green-eyed son, tapping his nose affectionately.

‘Dada?’ James placed a kiss on his head.

‘Yeah, I’m your dad.’

‘Doe!’ James heard Sirius’ boisterous voice as Lily opened the door. He walked in to see him hugging his wife, twirling her around.

‘Hello, Padfoot, Moony.’ James said, announcing his arrival.

‘James,’ Remus said. He looked as tired as James would have expected.

Sirius put down Lily, who looked flushed.

Sirius came towards James as Lily hugged Remus.

‘Hand me my godson, Potter.’ Sirius said, practically bouncing on his feet.

‘Har, do you want to go to your smelly Godfather Padfoot?’ The boy squirmed in his arms at hearing the name of his favourite uncle. ‘All right.’ He kissed his son before handing him over.

‘How are you, Harry?’ Sirius asked, smiling as Harry made to grab his nose.

‘Anyone want tea?’ Lily asked, holding Sirius’ discarded presents.

‘’Yes, with firewhisky please, love.’ Sirius said as he bounced Harry.

‘I could use some tea.’ Remus added as he leaned against the wall.

‘Put the presents under the tree, please.’ Lily handed him them to him and motioned for the boys to follow her.

His eyes trailed after her with a small sigh.

‘How are you feeling, Remus?’ Lily voiced her concerns as she poured the boys’ teas.

‘I’m good, Lily.’ His voice came out soft as he rested his forehead against the table.

‘You’re pale,’ she argued.

‘I’m always pale.’ She huffed softly.

‘Careful with the tea.’ She told Sirius as she saw him making faces at Harry.

Sirius held his godson securely against him. ‘He’s fine.’

James walked in, Godric wrapped in his arms.

Lily looked at him amused. ‘Tea?’

‘Yes, please.’ She grinned at him as he began stroking the cat.

‘Any reason you’ve kidnapped the cat?’ She questioned him, pouring a bit of firewhisky in the tea.

‘Mmm…’ He took a long sip of the tea. ‘He was lonely.’

‘He’s glaring at you.’

‘He loves me.’ She looked down at the cat in faux pity.

James stuck out his tongue at her.

The truth being that James Potter craved affection and couldn’t go long without it.

After the adults exchanged presents, it was time for Harry’s.

‘You first,’ Lily said as she looked at her husband’s pile for their son.

‘All right.’ He pulled the smallest amongst the pile. ‘Padfoot, may I borrow my son?’

‘No,’ he said, continuing crawling after Harry.

Lily laughed. ‘Black, hand us back our child.’

Sirius pouted but obliged the redhead’s request, handing the child to James.

‘Here’s your first Christmas present, Har.’ James cooed, placing the present in his son’s hands.

James took Harry’s hand in his, helping him tear off the wrapping paper.

‘It’s a snitch.’ Lily smiled gently as her son took the object in his hand. Harry made sounds of content as he saw the snitch moving slowly.

James tapped it with his wand. ‘You can play with it later. Probably be too distracted with your other presents.’

Sirius got up, bouncing with energy, ‘Mine next.’

‘Of course,’ Lily smiled, leaning against her husband. He looked down at her, his smile as wide as hers.

‘Tired, my doe?’

‘Just a bit.’

‘Come visit soon.’ Lily said as she hugged Remus goodnight.

‘I’ll try,’ he half-heartedly promised.

‘Take care, yeah?’ James said with a sleepy Harry in his arms.

‘Of course I will.’ He bit his lips gently before adding, ‘Just be careful.’

‘Of course.’ There was a serious pause where they acknowledged why they had to be careful.

Sirius approached them, interrupting the moment. He slung his arm around James briefly, giving his brother a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder.

‘Take care of my godson, okay?’ He said, messing up the small boy’s hair.

‘As always.’ Lily said before engulfing Sirius in a hug. ‘Visit us soon, Padfoot.’

‘As soon as I can, Doe.’ He gave her a quick forehead kiss.

‘Take care of her too, Prongs.’

‘Until the very end.’

Sirius nodded before motioning to Remus. ‘Come on, mate. Let’s let the lovebirds put the little one to sleep, so they can get to their presents.’ He wiggled his eyebrows at them.

Lily laughed happily. ‘Have a Happy Christmas, boys.’

‘Happy Christmas.’ They said simultaneously before walking away.

Lily shut the door.

‘Let’s get him to bed, poor thing was trying to stay up.’ Her fingers gently touched his cheek.

‘I think he liked his presents.’ James chuckled, ‘I don’t even think I got that many for my first Christmas.’

‘Spoiled little baby, weren’t you?’ Lily teased.

‘Miracle child.’ James responded, kissing his son’s head.

Lily quietly opened the door to their son’s room.

‘Goodnight, Harry.’ James whispered quietly, setting him down in his cot.

‘Goodnight, love.’ Lily said over his shoulder, walking towards Harry and covering him up with his favourite blanket and an additional one. She placed his stuffed deer toy, under his arm.

‘Let’s hope he sleeps through the night again.’ James took her hand in his. ‘Come on, love.’

‘Sleep tight, Har.’ She said before shutting the door.

‘Look, mistletoe.’ Lily pointed to the plant above their door.

A grin spread across James’ face.

‘If you wanted a Christmas kiss, all you had to do was ask.’ He leant down, kissing her gently.

‘I love you, Lily Potter.’ He sighed onto her lips.

‘I love you too, James Potter.’ She pulled away from the kiss, wrapping her arms around his waist. She was content in his arms, wishing she could remain in them forever.

Little did James and Lily know that that would be their last Christmas as a family.

Notes: I didn’t include Peter mainly because this was supposed to be more of Harry’s first Christmas with his parents, which is also why I also didn’t include too much of Remus and Sirius. Another reason is because at this point Peter had been the spy for a few months and likely would have avoided them at times due to guilt.

Hope you enjoyed!

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