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fantasyescapes17 · 11 months

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Scandal (Part 1)

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) is beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

Genre: Wonwoo x Female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Joshua's sibling so your last name is Hong but the reader has no other physical characteristics. Note: Certain main characters may initially seem unlikeable in this story. Redemption arcs will come.

Word Count: 6.8k+

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Series Masterlist [Reading Candle and Manners, the earlier installments in this series first is strongly recommended as main character dynamics are introduced there.]

The sheer cacophony being produced from Miss Brooke’s fingers prodding at your pianoforte was unbearable.

You suffered silently through the onset of a headache as Miss Brooke continued to perform (the piece was not even recognizable to your ears although she was using your sheet music). The remaining occupants of the parlour conversed awkwardly over her uninspiring performance.

Your mother- the Dowager Viscountess Hong- derived great enjoyment from hosting other elite families for tea. Her tea parties were renowned not only for the wide array of cakes, biscuits and other delicacies served, but also her remarkable skills as a hostess.

Presently, the evening's guests consisted of two of the ton's most elite families: the Brookes and the Jeons. Both families had eligible young women of marriageable age which factored into your mother's decision to host them. She was hoping your brother would marry by the end of the season.

Your brother- the Viscount Joshua Hong- was seated near Miss Jeon. They chatted politely about something. The specifics of their conversation were prevented from reaching your ears by the ruckus Miss Brooke was creating on the piano. Miss Jeon was the season's promising young debutante, but it was evident that she had no particular attraction to Joshua. And Joshua's heart was already engaged elsewhere.

That left only one other marriageable bachelor in the room.

Mr. Jeon Wonwoo.

He was a strange one, you decided. Mr Jeon was exceedingly handsome and always had a calm, peaceful demeanour. He spoke very little. Even now, he sat across from you and sipped his tea quietly without making any attempt at conversation. Your initial subtle attempts at flirtation had fallen quite flat.

You had to admit that you found him rather mysterious.

Still, you had never met a man that was completely immune to your charms. Mr. Jeon was simply a bit of a challenge. You enjoyed a challenge.

Miss Brooke's piece at the piano finally drew to an excruciatingly slow end. Seizing the opportunity, you rose from your seat and clapped politely with a smile on your face as you approached her.

"Thank you so much, Miss Brooke. We are so grateful to have been able to experience your playing this evening. Truly a remarkable performance," you told her graciously.

Miss Brooke blushed. "Thank you, Miss Hong. I was considering what to play next-"

"Oh! No, I won't hear of it! You must be very tired already. I insist that you sit down and try these lemon cakes. I would be happy to continue the music in your stead," you offered.

Miss Brooke looked put out but you firmly and politely ushered her away from the piano. You sat at your beloved instrument and let your fingers lovingly stroke the keys that Miss Brooke had abused mere moments ago.

You never tired of showing off your performances. Your musical talents were undisputed among the members of the ton, and you were confident that there was no young woman in London who could ever rival your skill at the piano.

Surely, you thought, a display of my exquisite musical talent will be enough to gain a little attention from Mr. Jeon Wonwoo?

You chose to perform an incredibly difficult piece that you had recently mastered. The entire room immediately ceased conversation to turn their attention to your performance. You could tell from the corner of your eye that even Mr. Jeon Wonwoo's sharp gaze was fixed on you. He was watching you intensely.

When you finished, you were treated to an enthusiastic round of applause from the entire room. Your mother spoke up to praise you.

"Wonderful, dear. That was beautifully done," the Dowager Viscountess told you proudly.

"That was quite delightful!" Miss Jeon was equally quick to praise your performance once you returned to your seat. "I have heard so much about your musical talents, Miss Hong, but to hear you perform in person is quite something else entirely. How much time and effort you must have put in to reach that level of skill! Was it not lovely, Wonwoo?"

You smiled to yourself, awaiting the praise that was surely to come from Mr. Jeon. You were accustomed to general admiration of your music. The young gentlemen of the ton were among your most ardent admirers.

You batted your eyelashes at him and spoke in a sweet tone. "Yes, Mr. Jeon. I am very eager to hear what you thought of my performance."

Mr. Jeon Wonwoo sipped his tea calmly. His dark eyes flickered to you and he gave you a polite, tight-lipped smile.

"You possess great potential, Miss Hong," he replied simply.

You could not have been more shocked if Mr. Jeon Wonwoo had chosen to throw his unfinished tea in your face.

Potential? What on earth did he mean by that? You had been learning to play the piano since you were a small child of seven. That was a decade and a half of uninterrupted learning, of your parents hiring the best tutors and dedicating all your free time to the practice and perfection of the art. Your late father had bought you the priceless pianoforte for your twelfth birthday, and it was your most prized possession. You were undisputably the most skilled young lady in all of London and this rude, conceited, tasteless man had the audacity to tell you that you had potential?

As though you were a child?

You had never been so affronted.

"I have dedicated myself to learning how to play the pianoforte for over fifteen years now, Mr. Jeon," you informed him coldly. "I am certain that I have already realised my full potential. Perhaps you may wish to reserve your critical judgement in the future."

Mr. Jeon's handsome face did not flinch.

"You asked me for my thoughts, Miss Hong," he replied in his calm, deep voice. His eyebrow was raised. "Am I to understand, then, that my criticism holds no value while my praise does? One might call that vanity."

Your cheeks turned hot in anger. How dare this tasteless man not only insult you publicly, but also accuse you of being vain and fishing for compliments?

How dare he?

"One hardly needs to be a music aficionado to pay basic respect to the quality of a performance, Mr. Jeon. I believe even my dog knows good music when he hears it-"

Viscount Hong interrupted the rapidly escalating conversation with a laugh and made a tangential comment about a hunting expedition that he planned to undertake with some other gentlemen. You leaned back in your seat and fumed silently for the rest of the evening until the Jeons and Brookes finally took their leave.

"Joshua," you told your elder brother once the guests had departed. "I hope you have not developed any affection towards Miss Jeon because I forbid that family from being invited to our home again. I have never been so insulted in my life!"

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Your performance was lovely, sister. You should not let the opinion of others affect you."

You turned to your mother.

"Mother! Was Mr. Jeon not excessively rude to me earlier?" you demanded validation. "Have you ever known someone to openly insult my performance- as a guest in our home, no less?"

Your mother gave you a sympathetic smile. "It does not appear that Mr. Jeon has a discerning ear for music, my darling. But do not fret. If you do not wish to see him again then we need not host the Jeons any more this season. There are plenty of other young gentlemen among the ton who would suit you much better."

You smiled and embraced your mother.

"You are so good to me, mother. Shall I play you another piece before dinner?"

"I would love that, my dear."

—-------------------------------------------------------

True to her word, your mother did not attempt to host the Jeons again. Any formal invitations to tea were restricted to the female members of the Jeon family- among whom Miss Jeon, you discovered, was a polite and friendly young woman.

You were fortunate to see very little of Mr. Jeon Wonwoo over the next few weeks. While his sister made a splash upon her entrance in society with her pretty manners and success at balls, Mr. Jeon himself was not easy to spot at social events. He would indulge in one or two dances at most and not be seen for the rest of the evening.

It was for the best, since the passage of time had not diminished your anger towards him in the slightest.

"Your post has arrived, Miss Hong," the maid told you as she came in with a tray of letters while you were at breakfast with your mother and brother.

The Dowager Viscountess raised an eyebrow.

"That is a lot of correspondence, my dear," your mother commented as you carelessly opened the letters one-by-one and glanced at them briefly before tossing them aside. "Who are you writing to?"

"I am not writing to anyone. These are from some gentlemen I danced with at the Hessington's ball last week. Mr. Carter writes to me regularly and of late I've received correspondence from Baron Wright, the Park brothers, and a few others…."

"So many admirers!"

You rolled your eyes. It was not surprising. These men were only interested in your status and fortune, though one would not think so from the romantic prose and lavish gifts they sent you on a regular basis. One of the envelopes contained a gift of expensive silk ribbon. Another contained an exquisitely carved handheld mirror.

You gestured to your maid to take the gifts away before continuing to open the envelopes.

"Oh, look- Mr. Carter has written a lovely little poem. You should use that, Joshua. It might help you woo Miss Lee."

Joshua did not look at the letter you passed him.

"I am capable of drafting my own correspondence with Miss Lee, sister, thank you," he told you firmly.

You were not convinced. "If you had written her a few poems like this before you raced off to her home to ask for her hand in marriage…"

Joshua sighed."Yes, yes, all right. That is enough."

"Oh dear," you mumbled as you opened the last letter. "Baron Wright says he intends to call upon me today. He is quite unbearable. I must not be at home- Minnie! It is lovely weather for a walk in the park. Will you help me find that pretty blue summer dress? And we shall take Snowball with us."

Your maid nodded. "Of course, miss."

You enjoyed the fresh air. Since you spent hours every day in front of the piano, it was rare to have a chance to promenade in the park with your furry companion. Snowball- your adorable fluffy white Pomeranian- trotted alongside you cheerfully on her leash and your ladies’ maids followed you at a polite distance.

"Miss, you must walk in the shade," your maid insisted. "It is very bright outside and the direct sun may burn your skin…"

You conceded, teetering a little off the path so that you and your maids could walk in the shade of the trees lining the park. You paused suddenly when you noticed a gentleman and lady strolling in your direction.

You recognised them both.

The man was Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. The mere sight of his handsome, unsmiling face was enough to make your blood boil. Wonwoo had no business looking so deceptively charming in a dark brown riding coat that emphasised his broad shoulders- the uncultured swine.

You would have walked past him without acknowledging his presence if it had been up to you. But unfortunately, you were not afforded this option. The lady accompanying him was your cousin-Miss Ella Williams- and she smiled and waved as soon as she recognised you.

"Cousin!" Ella called out cheerfully as she hurried down the path to greet you. Mr. Jeon followed her. His long legs allowed him to cover the distance in casual, effortless strides.

"Ella," you greeted your cousin warily. You were forced to acknowledge her walking companion. "And Mr. Jeon Wonwoo, if I remember correctly? I see you are out for a stroll."

Ella smiled. "Indeed. I was on a walk with Miss Jeon but we were joined by Mr. Jeon and Mr. Yoon. The path is narrow so I am afraid that the others have fallen a little behind. Mr. Jeon- please allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Miss Hong."

Wonwoo’s expression was emotionless as always.

“We are already acquainted,” he replied shortly.

"I see you and Snowball have come to promenade as well. Is the weather not perfectly lovely? It is a wonderful sunny day," Ella gushed.

"It was when I arrived. But there seems to be a rather ugly dark cloud crossing my path at the moment," you quipped with a sharp glance at Mr. Jeon.

The sky was clear and blue.

Mr. Jeon fixed his dark eyes upon you. He seemed annoyed. "Perhaps a dark cloud now and then is inevitable in life, Miss Hong. The sky cannot cater to your personal desires," he remarked.

You scoffed. "So long as the cloud learns its place and does not rain down upon those of us attempting to enjoy our day; I shall have no objections to the existence of the cloud."

Ella looked bewildered. "What cloud-"

She was interrupted by a sharp tug on your leash. Snowball had grown impatient while standing in one place and darted forwards to sniff at Mr. Jeon's shoes.

Mr. Jeon looked surprised. It was the closest thing to an emotion you had seen on his serious face- but he did not move away from the dog.

"Snowball, no!" you cried. Snowball was beginning to wag his tail and you could not imagine the mortification you would feel if your dog expressed any affection towards the man you were clearly attempting to snub.

You reached down and picked Snowball up quickly before he could embarrass you. He let out a small whine but relaxed in your arms.

Ella laughed. “Oh, that is all right, cousin! I am sure Mr. Jeon does not mind dogs- do you, Mr. Jeon?”

“I consider them to be excellent companions,” Mr. Jeon replied simply.

"And I think he is adorable," Ella insisted as she reached forward to pat Snowball's head. "I wish my mother would allow me to have a dog, but she insists that the fur makes her ill. Will you allow me to walk him sometime?"

"Anytime you like, dear cousin."

Ella's eyes suddenly widened as she remembered something. "Oh, but cousin, you must tell me- I have heard that the Viscount is courting Miss Lee! I was quite surprised. Can it be true? Will they be married?"

You stiffened. You were aware of Joshua's affections for Miss Lee; their courtship was the hottest gossip among the ton at the moment, largely because Miss Lee was from a humble background and did not possess either status or dowry to match your family's.

You had spoken to Miss Lee at the Hessington's ball. She was kind-hearted and a perfect choice for Joshua, but did not seem confident in her ability to become a Viscountess. You were not certain that she would accept your brother's proposal.

"It remains to be seen," you replied lightly. You did not want to confirm rumours until the success or failure of their courtship was more evident to you.

"You do not think she is a good match for Joshua?" Ella wondered.

"We shall have to see," you said vaguely. "Decisions such as these should not be made in haste. Not everyone is suited to become a Viscountess."

Mr. Jeon's dark eyes were still on you. His jaw was clenched; he looked displeased.

"Do you disagree, Mr. Jeon?" you demanded.

"I do not think it is your place to assess who is suited to become the Viscountess," he replied stiffly. "I am sure your brother is more than capable of making such decisions on his own."

You laughed. Your brother had made plenty of poor choices in Miss Lee's case- including springing a proposal on the poor girl without giving her any hint of his affections for her and failing to realise how she would be affected by the gossip.

"You overestimate my brother, Mr. Jeon. He is perfectly capable of making mistakes, like any other gentleman," you replied.

"A gentleman will deal with the consequences of his own actions- whether they be mistakes or otherwise," Mr. Jeon retorted.

You stared at him, bewildered. What was he going on about? You had no idea why Jeon Wonwoo was so invested in Joshua's courtship with Miss Lee, but you refused to let this odious man have the last word.

"It seems you have a high opinion of my brother," you snapped. "But I am sorry to inform you that the decisions made by a Viscount do not impact him alone. Forgive me if I do not want my brother to make mistakes that would cause pain to those around him."

Ella looked distressed at the turn the conversation was taking.

"Cousin, I am sure there is no question of the Viscount making any mistakes. Let us speak of something else," she pressed.

"Yes, of course. Men must never be questioned by women when they make mistakes," you replied drily while glaring at Mr. Jeon. "How foolish of me to think otherwise."

Mr. Jeon raised an eyebrow. "Miss Hong, it was never my intention to suggest that-"

"Frankly, Mr. Jeon, I have no interest in what you intended to suggest. I did not ask for your opinion; I shall certainly not make that mistake twice. You may rest knowing that your silence pleases me well enough. Please do not trouble yourself with speech."

Ella was shocked. "Cousin!"

"Snowball is quite tired and we must be returning home now. I will take your leave. Good day, Ella. Mr. Jeon."

You walked away, your cheeks hot with anger. Who did Mr. Jeon Wonwoo think he was? It is not your place to assess who is suited to be a Viscountess? As though a sister being concerned for her brother's marriage was overstepping her bounds? How dare he speak to you that way?

One thing was certain. You were not as kind and forgiving as your brother.

Jeon Wonwoo would regret making an enemy of you.

—-------------------------------------------

"Miss Hong, you have the most exquisite taste in fashion! These gowns are so striking!" Miss Brooke cried.

You were having tea with some of the other young ladies of the ton when your latest shipment from the modiste arrived- a large collection of custom-made ball gowns, hats, and shoes that you had ordered recently.

"This one is my own personal design," you boasted as Miss Brooke admired a particularly gorgeous lavender gown with a delicately embroidered skirt. "I ordered it specially for my brother's wedding and I am having a pair of shoes custom-made to match."

“It is a masterpiece!”

You sipped your tea and leaned back as Miss Brooke, Miss Hessington and Miss Jeon continued to compliment and admire your new gowns. You had spent a considerable amount of time preparing the designs and discussing them with the modiste. The admiration of the other young ladies was sufficient recompense for your efforts.

Let it never be said that Miss Hong was not the best-dressed young lady in the room.

Just as Miss Brooke pulled out an exquisite handmade silk shawl from the boxes stacked on the tea table, your brother appeared at the doorway of the tea parlour.

"Ladies," Viscount Hong greeted the other young women in the room with a handsome smile before turning to you. "I apologise for interrupting your tea. Sister- if I could have a word in the hall?"

You followed him into the hallway outside.

"Joshua? Is there a problem?"

Joshua had a small stack of papers in his hand. He showed them to you calmly. "These are the bills I have received from the modiste, the shoemaker and the jeweller," he informed you.

You blinked at him. "All right. What is the problem? Send the clerk to pay them."

"Do you not think some of these are a little extravagant, sister? This single ball-gown of yours costs as much as the Arabian horse I had shipped from overseas," Joshua pointed out.

"It is custom-made. The silk is imported from India so it has travelled the same distance. If we can afford the horse, then I fail to see the problem with the dress," you replied defensively.

Joshua shook his head and sighed. "Do not mistake me, sister. I am not angry. I only want to be sure that you are conscious of your spending habits."

"Are my gowns putting a dent in the Hong family fortune?" you asked with a laugh.

"You know they are not."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"I would like you to acknowledge that regardless of our ability to pay for them, perhaps it is not necessary to spend so much money on a dress that you shall only wear on a single occasion. I ask you to exercise a little restraint.”

“Yes, yes, all right," you told him dismissively. "The season is nearing an end so this was my final order. We shall be returning to the countryside after your wedding, in any case."

"Glad to hear it."

"Have you ordered your wedding things? You know the modiste takes over a week for wedding orders- particularly the wedding gowns."

Joshua blinked. "Wedding gown?"

You gasped. "Joshua! Your wedding is in less than a fortnight, are you telling me that an order has not been placed for Miss Lee's wedding gown? What on earth is the matter with you?"

Joshua looked flustered. "I-I assumed Miss Lee would arrange her own wedding gown-"

"Miss Lee's family cannot afford a wedding gown fit for a Viscountess! And she is so humble she would never ask you for such a thing- it was your responsibility to offer! You must place a deposit with the modiste immediately and I will take Miss Lee there myself to select the design this evening. You are fortunate that I am the modiste's valued customer."

Joshua nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes-yes, I will do that…"

"And none of that restraint, please. Sell one of the Arabians if you must," you added with a giggle.

Your brother hurried away and you re-entered the parlour where the young ladies were still discussing your silk shawls.

You re-seated yourself in an armchair.

"Is everything all right, Miss Hong?" Miss Jeon asked politely.

"Yes- my brother needed some help with the arrangements for his wedding. Gentlemen are very lucky to have sisters to rely on in certain matters," you said lightly before glancing at Miss Jeon. "Would you not agree, Miss Jeon?"

Miss Jeon shook her head. "I am sure I rely on my brother far more than he relies on me."

"But of course. Mr Jeon Wonwoo is a different case altogether. I gather he does not need your help in matters of the heart, since he openly refuses to court anyone," you quipped.

Miss Jeon did not seem worried. "I am sure he will find a young lady he is interested in someday."

"I hope that the young lady is not too fond of polite conversation, then, since Mr. Jeon will surely not indulge in any," you replied. "Was it not just last week, Miss Brooke, that you told me Mr. Jeon danced with you and did not speak a single word for the entire duration of the dance?"

Miss Brooke smiled awkwardly. "Yes…"

"And Miss Hessington, did you not tell me that you attempted to converse with him at the assembly rooms and he did not even look up from the book he was reading to greet you?"

Miss Hessington nodded.

"Wonwoo does not speak much," Miss Jeon admitted with an awkward laugh.

"Perhaps that is for the best," you replied airily. "I am quite offended by what little he has spoken to me thus far. If he spoke more often, I imagine he would soon gain many enemies among the ton."

"I apologise for his actions, Miss Hong-"

You brushed her off kindly. "Not at all, Miss Jeon; you are a dear friend. I would not dream of holding you responsible for your brother's behaviour. He shall carry that burden entirely on his own."

"Are there any gentlemen among the ton that have caught your eye, Miss Hong?" Miss Brooke wondered. "I notice that Baron Wright seems to be quite set on you. You often dance with Mr. Carter as well."

"We shall see," you replied lightly. "Since the season is coming to an end and I will be returning to the countryside soon, it is a perfect time to test a man's so-called affections. Only those who maintain their correspondence with me over the winter will remain candidates for my hand next season."

Miss Jeon giggled. "Then may we expect to see another wedding in the Hong family next season?"

"... Perhaps so."

—----------------------------------------------------------

Viscount Joshua Hong's wedding was a grand success, in no small part thanks to you.

The bride's wedding gown was greatly admired by the entire ton and Miss Lee thanked you for your efforts toward ensuring they had a smooth ceremony. The happily married couple left for their honeymoon immediately after. You returned with your mother to the Hongs' countryside estate for the winter.

It was a quiet winter without your brother at home. You spent most evenings practising music by the fireplace and reading and writing your correspondence. Baron Wright and Mr. Carter were both quite serious about their affections for you, and you wondered if perhaps one of them would approach the Viscount for your hand as soon as your family was back in London for the next season.

You could not decide if you cared enough to marry either of them. But you were already in your third season, and now with your brother married too, the clock was ticking. Luckily, you had the entire ton to choose from. You doubted there was a single unattached man who would not welcome your affections if you chose to bestow them upon him.

Except perhaps Mr. Jeon Wonwoo.

But as always, he was the exception to the rule.

You were pleased to return to London after the end of winter. Your sister-in-law, the new Viscountess, was equally excited. She had fully embraced her new role as your brother’s wife, and seemed much happier and brighter by his side than she had ever appeared before.

It almost made you envious of their marital bliss.

“I hope you will find someone who makes you as happy as Joshua makes me,” the Viscountess gushed as the servants hurried to unpack your belongings and set up your London home for the new season. “Marriage really is quite wonderful and I would love for you to experience it, sister.”

“Well, I must find the right man,” you reminded her. “And more importantly, I must find the right dress for the ball that the Duchess of Graham is hosting tomorrow. It is going to be the most spectacular event of the season and I cannot afford to look anything but my best.”

“You always look beautiful.”

“Your words flatter me, sister; but it is your first public appearance as the Viscountess and you must be equally careful. Perhaps a trip to the modiste is in order?”

The Viscountess smiled. “Perhaps it is.”

—------------------------------------------------

It was not easy to be the centre of attention at the Duchess of Graham’s ball.

The beginning of a new season came with so much fresh gossip and juicy rumours that it was impossible to keep track of it all. Whispers abounded from the moment you descended your carriage and entered the Duchess’ palatial London manor.

“The youngest Miss Yoon is the most awaited debutante of the season,” your cousin Ella Williams informed you as you both took a turn about the beautiful ballroom. The dancing had not yet begun. You were taking the opportunity to admire the sheer magnificence of the Duchess’ manor.

It was beyond anything you had seen before.

“Miss Yoon?” you asked. “Mr. Yoon Jeonghan’s younger sister?”

“She is rumoured to be a great beauty. And now that the messy issue of her dowry is resolved and her fortune restored, I expect she will be receiving her fair share of offers.”

You nodded. “I would like to meet this young woman. But first, Ella, tell me about the Duchess. I knew she was rich and had connections to the royal family but… the extravagance of this manor! It is at least three times the size of any other home I have seen in London, including my own.”

Ella nodded eagerly as you both admired an enormous marble statue in the entryway to the ball room.

“Of course. The Grahams have historically been very intimate with the royal family and their fortune is beyond comparison. But the Duke of Graham left no male heirs. When he died last year, the title should have died with him- but the Queen herself decreed as a special exception that the title would continue through his only daughter.”

Your eyes widened. “Fascinating. I am sure this has never happened before."

“Indeed. It was quite the controversy. Much of the nobility was displeased with a woman being able to hold a title without the support of a man. They insisted that she produce a male heir at the soonest. It is rumoured that the Duchess intends to marry soon. Perhaps this season.``

You sighed. “I wish she wouldn’t. It is quite nice to have a Duchess in her own right.”

“I agree. But she has not shown any interest in the gentlemen of the ton, so perhaps she will marry someone from the royal family instead. A Prince? Anything is possible, really,” Ella gushed excitedly. “As for the manor, it has been in the Graham family for many generations. Much of the furniture is antique and gifted by the royal family. I have heard the library has an antique pianoforte which was gifted hundreds of years ago by the King himself.”

Your eyes sparkled. “A pianoforte, you say?”

“Perhaps the oldest still in existence in London.”

Your interest was piqued.

“Ella- I must see this pianoforte,” you decided.

Ella laughed. “Unfortunately, cousin, I am not entirely sure where it is. The library is upstairs but I have never been to this manor before. I have heard that your brother is acquainted with the Duchess. Perhaps if you ask her permission…”

You shook your head. “Ask her? She is the hostess of the ball, we should never have a chance to speak to her tonight. Look at the size of this event! Nobody would notice if we slipped upstairs in between a few dances. The staircase is not even blocked.”

Ella was startled. “We?”

“I cannot go alone!” you cried.

“But-but…”

“I will grant you any wish within my power, Ella,” you promised your cousin as you seized her hand and pressed it tightly. “You may choose any dress from my wardrobe- even the ones I have not yet worn. Take your pick from my jewellery box. I simply must be able to lay my fingers on this historical piano.”

Ella laughed and removed her hand from your grasp. “All right. You are lucky that this is the first ball of the season and all the attention is focused on the Duchess and the new debutantes.”

“Show me your dance card,” you insisted, seizing the little card tied to your cousin’s wrist. “You are unoccupied for the third dance, as am I. We will meet near those stairs at the beginning of the third dance and slip upstairs. I am promised to dance with Baron Wright for the fourth- so we must find the piano and return to the ballroom by then.”

Ella giggled. “All right, cousin. But keep your promise. I intend to take the lavender dress you wore to the Viscount’s wedding.”

“It is yours.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------

You danced the first two dances of the evening with Mr. Carter and Mr. Hessington. Both of whom were very vocal about their admiration for you. You accepted their advances with your usual coolness and light flirtation.

You were still deciding which of your admirers to properly encourage. For now, you would keep your options open.

The moment the second dance ended, you hurried to the foot of the grand marble staircase. Ella was nowhere to be seen. You waited impatiently for your younger cousin, but the enormous grandfather clock in the foyer continued to tick and after a few minutes, you could hear the opening notes of the third dance beginning in the ballroom.

You were running out of time. Where was Ella?

You made a quick decision- surely there would be nobody upstairs except for a servant or two? The ball was in full swing here anyway. You could be up and back down in a matter of minutes.

It would be fine.

You lifted your skirts and ran up the stairs. At the top was an enormous landing and, as you expected, not a single person in sight. You walked down a hallway of enormous, studded half-open doors until you finally found the library. The high walls were lined with shelf after shelf of books rising into the air.

In the centre of the room- an enormous white pianoforte.

You walked towards the instrument and sat down before it with your heartbeat thudding. You were no stranger to expensive instruments but this was undoubtedly the most beautiful one that you had ever seen in your life. It was delicately hand-carved and the quality was evident from the moment you gently brushed your fingers over the keys.

“Beautiful,” you whispered to yourself before pressing your fingers down to play a chord. The noise was strange and jarring.

“That is disappointing,” a voice said from behind you.

You almost screamed in shock. You had not realised that there was anyone else in the room with you. You jumped up from the piano and whirled around to see Mr. Jeon Wonwoo was standing in the shadow of one of the bookshelves, leaning against it with a book in his hand.

“Mr. Jeon?” you demanded.

He stepped forward from the shadow. Mr. Jeon looked as handsome as ever- his dark hair fell forward barely brushing his eyes and he looked less… serious than he normally did. The corner of his lips were turned up in an almost-smile.

“Miss Hong,” he greeted.

“I-I did not see that you were already in the room,” you stammered quickly. “You should have announced your presence to me. What are you doing up here?”

Mr. Jeon held up the book in his hand. “Reading.”

“And avoiding the ball, I see, as always. I suppose you consider yourself far too superior to the young ladies here to bestow them with the gift of your presence,” you replied snidely. “Shall I thank you for deigning to speak to me today?”

He blinked. “No thanks is necessary.”

“Excellent. Then I shall ask you to please leave. It is quite improper for us to be alone together here.”

Mr. Jeon smirked lightly. “Leave? Miss Hong, I am afraid that I was here long before you. By the common rules of courtesy, if you do not wish to be in my presence then you are very welcome to leave yourself. The door is open.”

This infuriating man simply would not let you be.

You glanced at the enormous grandfather clock in the corner of the room. You could still hear the faint notes of music coming from the ballroom below, but time was running out. You had no idea when you would have another chance to experience this instrument. Mr. Jeon would not ruin this for you.

“I am sure you have been to hundreds of libraries, Mr. Jeon, but this instrument is one of the oldest antique pianofortes in London. I only wanted a few moments alone with it, if you would be so kind.”

Mr. Jeon’s eyes flickered towards the instrument.

“It looks antique but the noise it made just now was quite awful,” he remarked.

You huffed and pressed some of the keys again. The noise was still awkward. “It is simply not tuned. Evidently nobody has played it in a long time. The fact that you could not tell leads me to believe that your knowledge and appreciation for music is much lower than I originally imagined.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Why? Because I would not compliment your performance last year?” he demanded.

“It was an excellent performance,” you said defensively, anger rising. “Regardless of whether you are willing to accept it or not, Mr. Jeon. I can allow for differences in personal taste, but there is some objectivity in the field that deems me more than a mere child with potential.”

Mr. Jeon closed the book in his hands and stepped closer to you. “The problem was not your performance.”

“Oh?” you demanded.

“No. Your performance was masterful. I am afraid what you failed to realise is that your self-indulgent display of talent left your friend, Miss Brooke, almost in tears,” Mr. Jeon replied. His dark eyes narrowed and he crossed the library towards you in long, effortless strides. You felt your heart constrict in your chest.

“What?” you demanded, confused.

“You are evidently the better musician. But what I found distasteful, Miss Hong, is how you felt the need to make a spectacle of Miss Brooke by showing the entire room just how superior you were to her. That was a selfish, vain, tactless thing to do to a young lady who believes herself to be your friend.”

“Miss Brooke made a spectacle of herself,” you snapped. “She should have known better than to perform for company when she can barely produce a recognizable nursery rhyme from the piano!”

Mr. Jeon shook his head. “You could have ended it there. Perhaps even closed the instrument for the evening. But you had to outperform her by playing your most difficult piece. You used her to satisfy your vanity.”

You could not help it- you laughed. You could not believe the audacity of this man, after all this time, to defend his actions in this manner. You were becoming angrier and angrier.

Your cheeks felt hot and your fists clenched.

“Are you telling me, Mr. Jeon,” you asked as you laughed in disbelief. “That your blatant public insult of my performance while you were a guest in my home was an act of chivalry in defence of a slight you perceived against Miss Brooke? You are mad. Really, you must be quite mad to think that is even remotely an appropriate defence for your actions-”

“And you must be very proud indeed, to allow such a minor slight to make you so angry after all these months” Mr. Jeon replied with a smirk.

He was standing in front of the instrument now, mere feet away from you.

You scoffed as you stepped forward again. You would not back down from this man.

“Yes, of course. Yes, please, Mr. Jeon, I would love to hear more about my pride from the man who infamously hides in libraries during balls and snubs every young lady that crosses his path. Do you consider women beneath your notice? But of course- why should Mr. Jeon Wonwoo bother with polite conversation with stupid young ladies when he is evidently so superior in intellect and manner to our entire sex,” you hissed.

His eyes looked wild for a moment; you had never seen so much emotion in Mr. Jeon’s eyes and you could hear your own blood pumping in your ears from anger as you stared back at him. You were barely a foot apart and you could see the way his chest heaved up and down underneath his black coat.

The room was filled with a complete silence.

Silence.

The faint music from the ballroom below had stopped.

Suddenly, a number of things occurred in the flash of a single moment.

You realised that the third dance had ended and you had spent too long upstairs. There was the sound of footsteps outside the partially open library door. Jeon Wonwoo looked startled- he suddenly took a step back to put some distance between you, but his foot caught on the leg of the pianoforte and his arm came down upon the keys to steady himself.

You darted forward to steady him but it was too late. His palm had already hit the keys by the time you seized his arm and the loud, jarring piano noise was released into the silent room with no chance of concealment.

The door to the library burst open.

Oh no. Oh no no no no.

You were ruined.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

#seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo angst #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #regency!au #seventeen fanfiction #wonwoo imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines

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canonicallyobserving911 · 2 months

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Buck & Eddie: They're Soulmates!

Buck and Eddie share a once in a lifetime love of each other's lives type of love that transcends space and time.

The love they share is not platonic, it's romantic and the natural chemistry they have is OFF THE CHARTS.

There are people who wish they could have one tenth of the love they share with each other and that's why over the years, the show has made it a point to highlight and compare their love interests against the other one as a way to prove Buck and Eddie are meant for each other.

Therefore, can it once and for all be acknowledged that the possible reason why NONE of Buck’s previous relationships with AC, AM, TK and ND never worked was because THEY WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO?

The same goes for Eddie because NONE of his relationships ever worked either including the one he had with Chris' mother. SD, AF and now M (who the show still hasn't given a last name and that speaks volumes as to how long she'll possibly be around) didn’t or won't work for Eddie because THEY WEREN'T/AREN'T SUPPOSED TOO EITHER?

It's interesting to see all these takes on how some people view their previous relationships with those women through rose colored glasses and saying things like they could have been great if... (_______ fill in the blank with whatever randomness you'd like). The point is they weren't meant to be anything but a placeholder until Buddie goes CANON.

Buck

There have been so many takes on Buck and TK being perfect because they were cute together but did everyone who thinks that forget she was willing to throw the 118 and their captain under the bus in 2x6? Don't even try to rebutt it with logic from that fake redemption arc that was included in 5x7 for her because in 5x17 she ultimately accomplished her goal by doing exactly what she intended four years earlier when she broke a promise she made to Buck and ran with the Jonah story then wrote a raggedy book about it exactly one year later in 6x17. It's true that Buck knew who she was but he still dated her (which speaks more to his poor decision making than hers) but they both knew it was wrong from the start. They were never going to work and they were never FRIENDS. Friends don't treat each other like $hit so they can get their way then expect for you to just be ok with it and follow it up with a half @ssed apology like, "I'm sorry you're still upset about the story" 🙄. With friends like that, Buck doesn't need enemies.

AC literally ABANDONED him but there are still people who think she would have been good for him. It appears they forgot she FOUND a man with two kids in another country and in 3x18 she came back two years later to rub Buck’s face in it. She didn't even have the decency to apologize to him.

AM was the worst of all because SHE WAS NEVER THERE WHEN BUCK NEEDED HER. Was she nice, yes but she didn't know him at all and when his leg got crushed by the ladder truck in 2x18, she dipped and ABANDONED him too. But for some reason, she's being heralded as his best relationship ever which is so far from the truth it's funny sad not funny haha. She left him in his loft with a cast on his leg because she didn't know what she wanted.

ND was/is only interested in Buck because he DIED! THAT'S IT! There's nothing else to the story. She clearly COULDN'T SEE HIM because they only knew each other for two seconds so please stop romanticizing their hookup like it was some "Gone with the Wind" love story because that's a bunch of BS since they didn't and still don't know each other.

Eddie

SD was NOT the perfect wife and mother people who wanted her to stick around and coparent Chris with Eddie have made her out to be. The show clearly retconned her character in 6x15 like she was so young and she didn't deserve to die but be clear, the relationship she had with Eddie was toxic as F%ck! All they did was argue and instead of talking, they had sex. They didn't communicate and when she was ready to leave again, she thought she would have time to come back and be "someone's wife and someone's mother" (her words but notice she didn't say Chris' mother or Eddie's wife, she said someone's) but her time ran out and she didn't get the chance, hence the title of the episode she died in, "Careful what you wish for". Trust and believe she had a lot of faults and Eddie did too but her being young wasn't an excuse for her leaving Chris and not contacting him for almost 2 years. If Eddie wouldn't have contacted her about her interviewing at Durand, would she have ever come back? Who knows but probably not since she was out there living her best life like she didn't have a kid.

AF was nice but just because her and Eddie were cute together, it doesn't mean they were soulmates. Did the people rooting for them to stay together even realize that she was Chris' schoolteacher in 3x12 but she DIDN'T OFFER EDDIE ANY SUGGESTIONS ON HOW TO HELP CHRIS SKATEBOARD? That was literally her job but she was career driven which isn't a bad thing but it seemed like she was in love with the idea of being in love just like Eddie was. She was trying to avoid dealing with the issues that were prevalent in their relationship and she didn't even ask Eddie about his panic attacks to try and find out what was causing them. But she did throw them in his face when he broke up with her.

M is IN LOVE WITH HER BROTHER! It was clear she was in 6x5 when she almost kissed him on the mouth while they were in the ambulance. Also, she's a loner, hence the meaning of her name, Marisol, it literally means solitude. When Eddie met her, she was doing upgrades on her home by herself until her brother showed up and made a complete mess of things. If Eddie does try to pursue something formidable with her in season 7, everyone knows how it will end because EDDIE TOLD THE AUDIENCE IN 6X14... he'll be performing and trying not to panic and his performance anxiety will be at a level 100.

Buddie

Who's never left Buck? EDDIE!

Who loves both Eddie and Chris? BUCK!

Who takes care of Buck? EDDIE!

Who listens to Eddie? BUCK!

The list can go on and on but the point of this post is for those who chose to see what they want to see instead of what 9-1-1 has CLEARLY been depicting for Buck and Eddie over the past six years. None of Buck’s or Eddie’s love interests were written to work because they weren't/aren't supposed to.

No one has natural chemistry with them like they have with each other and it's written that way on PURPOSE!

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morganas-pendragons · 3 months

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All My Love | Twelfth Doctor

@pompeiianbollockr

Set during the blindness arc in Season 10 because I love me some vulnerable Doctor. I don't care if it's not in Twelve's character. He gets to be vulnerable because I SAID so :D

He hasn't spoken to you since before you landed on the space station. In fact, it's been nearly a week. It's been nearly a week since The Doctor allowed himself to kiss you. To touch you.

And possibly the most devastating part.. to see you.

Self sacrificial. That was one of the best words you'd ever used to describe him in the time you'd known this face. This face. With all its quirks, and all the things he hates about it: The attack eyebrows, the lines, the wrinkles and the age... Despite all the things he'd hated about this face, the one thing he'd learned from traveling with you is that the faces didn't matter.

He truly believed you loved him for him. You knew it. He knew it. This, though... This was something he wasn't sure he was going to come back from. The Doctor had spent centuries gallivanting across the universe, running further and faster from home because he couldn't dare look back, with promises of adventures on his lips and desperation for escape in his heart.

"Tell me... am I a good man?"

You scooted closer to where he was sitting on the stairs and tentatively rose your hand to graze your fingertips across his temple and card through those unruly silver curls. He shivered at the sensation and forced his eyes open to meet yours as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, "The best man I will ever know."

He hasn't forgotten the feeling of your lips meeting the skin under his ear. Or the first time he'd kissed you of his own accord. Or the first time you'd marked him in the dead of night in his bedroom, where your lips had branded his skin. The way he'd linked your fingers together on either side of your head.

The sound of your voice calling his name. The sound of your voice in general, so soft and sweet and good...

That is something he clings to so tightly now. All the memories of the past - mere years for you, millions of years for him - that had opened his eyes to the truth: Despite all his misgivings and all his failures, he too was someone deemed worthy of loving.

You had brought a light into his life that The Doctor had not realized he'd been so deprived of. It was the light of humanity, of hope, of a heart far too big for this universe that nobody would ever thank you for. You deserved so much better than him.

And yet, you didn't want better.

You only wanted him.

He can't figure out why he's so... sad. There's an empty hole in his hearts and his mind where someone used to be, where the memory and the love of someone he cared for used to occupy, and the realization he cannot place who they are is angering him.

The Doctor has always been vengeful. The Oncoming Storm, The Valeyard, Timelord Victorious. He has rage written into the very essence of his bones and a desire to protect and save people in a way no one had ever saved him from himself.

"Hey you," You dragged your fingers across his shoulder blades as you came to sit beside him in the open doorway of the TARDIS. "Where did you go?"

That was one of the things he'd first recognized he loved about you. Despite this body having difficulties with physical affection and intimacy, he'd learned how to communicate with body language and gazes. Absent looks. Looks of adoration. Affection. Longing. That was all it took.

And you still read him like a book.

"Something's missing," He lightly knocked on his temple as you reached out and took his hand in your own. The Doctor let you. It was like he could feel the sunlight and warmth seeping from you into him. The light overwhelming the dark. "In here. There's someone who's supposed to be in here with the rest of them. I don't remember."

You did. You did, and Clara had made you promise before she flew away that you would never help him remember. That you would help him carry the weight.

"Maybe you're not supposed to. We're all stories in the end," You whisper. The Doctor softened as he lifted your hand to his lips and tentatively brushed them against your knuckles. "And maybe some of those stories become songs. Whispers of melodies and lines that hold the things we cannot remember."

All of his memories are composed in a form of music: Lines upon lines of melancholic notes in the minor key that is his endless life, with crescendos of bright notes meant to convey the optimism and light brought by the companions who travel alongside him.

And when they leave, the decrescendo extends over what feels like years, softening to a singular note that eases into silence.

Him, alone, on his own battlefield. That's how he feels right now. Battling the recognition that he may never be able to bask in the light again. That he may always be victim to the darkness.

So The Doctor lets the darkness win. He distances himself from you because it's better to face the darkness alone.

However, you are not willing to let him.

***

You know him. You know him better then you know yourself, and you have known him long enough to know his tells when it comes to how he keeps his secrets. How he lets himself lie. You are the only person who is able to truly see The Doctor.

You would be lying if you said you weren't hurt by his sudden distance. He hadn't done this since he'd recently regenerated. When he'd been resentful of his new body, of the world, and of who he was now.

You had lost count of all of the times that you had followed the sound of grief and heartache and despair into the darkness of his bedroom. All the times he'd turned you away. All the times he'd left you out in the cold of the TARDIS hallways.

All the times he'd finally given in and allowed himself to be held.

You'd been longing to do that again. To be the one being held, to be reminded that he did indeed still love you. The Doctor always went on about having ''a duty of care'' for you and for Bill.

Did your self hatred overwhelm your duty of care, Doctor? Did the coward finally win?

When Bill and Nardole had disappeared, you had stayed behind with The Doctor when he'd attempted to read the Veritas. You had been right around the corner when you were alarmed by the sound of pained groaning coming from within the cage.

"Cardinal, it worked. I can see. Not well enough. Not yet."

Dread bubbled low in your stomach as you approached the cage from behind. Hadn't his blindness been cured? What was he talking about?

"Think about the universes. Whatever you need, you can always borrow." He blinked heavily. Once, twice, three times to try and clear the haze from over his eyes. You were standing just outside of his peripheral vision. He wouldn't be able to tell you were there. And after shutting you out, after days of nothing.. This upset you. This hurt. "As long as you pay it back. I just borrowed from my future. I get a few minutes of proper eyesight, but I lose something. Maybe all my future regenerations will be blind. Maybe I won't regenerate ever again. Maybe I'll drop dead in twenty minutes, but... I will be able to read this."

He slammed his hand on top of the Veritas. You weren't paying attention anymore. The next thing you knew, the lights were going out, and you were running to keep up with him even though he did not know you were there.

You tried not to let your hurt show. Or for him to hear it in your voice.

That would come later.

***

When all was said and done, you found him in the console room. He was still adjusting to learning how to identify when people were approaching based off of his other senses. It took The Doctor a moment to recognize the sound of footsteps approaching, but he did turn from his seat on the pilot's chair nearest to the console to where he thought you were standing.

He also didn't know that you were very aware he was still blind.

"Darling? Is that you? You should know that I always know it's you. Don't be coy."

"I'm mad at you."

His brow rose at that. "And why would that be?"

You walked forward to stand in the natural part of his legs. "For all of the times you have dragged me across the universe," You begin, swallowing your fear as you take both his hands and settle them on your hips while you settle in his lap. "For all the times I have had with you, the years I have known you. I never thought you'd be this thick."

The Doctor snorted. Did you not know this face? He was ridiculously thick headed.

"You should know by now that I am extremely thick," He argued, allowing his fingers to drift under the fabric of your cotton shirt and drum lightly against your hips. "Thick headed and arrogant and a selfish old man."

"An old man who forgot the first promise we ever made." You have yet to touch him. To properly touch him. ''Tell me. When did you forget?"

He struggled to keep hold of those memories. The early ones. When one has an infinite life, you do your best to hold onto what is precious.

"You can't." The Doctor had declared. It had been mere weeks since he'd regenerated, and he was so unsure, so scared. He did a remarkable job of hiding it. "You can't love me."

It was also the first time you'd properly been able to communicate how you felt to him. Eleven had called you, desperate and longing and begging you to understand, to remember that he's still The Doctor despite having a different face.

You had never had the courage to tell his younger face that you loved him. When Eleven had helped you to recognize the fear underneath that worn, aged face, you'd walked right back into the TARDIS and declared it with all the courage of a soldier facing a battlefield alone.

"I do love you. I have loved you. It took a while for me to recognize it, but I do. It's not a lie. It's not a trick or deception. It's me." You took your hand and placed it on his chest. He winced, though briefly, because this body was not quite ready to accept more physical contact than that. "Being brave."

"Promise me then. No secrets. No tricks." He murmured. You took the opportunity to close the gap of space between you, keeping your hand in its place as his grey eyes met yours. You shivered as he brought his own hand up to cradle your jaw. Your lips parted on their own accord as his eyes flickered down to them before slowly dragging his gaze upward to meet your own. "Promise me that you will keep them safe."

"Them?"

"Those fragile, beating things you've held in your hands since we met. Tell me," His breath fanned across your face as he hesitantly leaned inward. "What does it feel like to hold a Timelords hearts?"

"I asked you to keep me safe," The Doctor remarked. "That's not your job. It was an unrealistic promise."

"You're forgetting the beginning of that promise," You finally leaned inward enough that The Doctor could feel the rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your breath against his cheek. He froze as you lightly tapped his sonic glasses. "No secrets. Take them off."

He did not move for almost a minute and a half. The Doctor knew that he should've seen this coming. He should've known you were clever enough to figure him out.

He removed one hand from under your shirt and removed the glasses willingly. Your heart hammered painfully hard in your chest as you were greeted with the familiar grey of his eyes. This time, however, they were cloudy. They were almost... dark.

"It never went away. I just didn't know how to properly tell you." The Doctor shrugged. "You deserve better. It's as I've said. Selfish old man, traveling across the universe with his best-"

He paused as you pressed a fingertip to his lips. The Doctor hummed and kissed your finger, reveling in the feeling of warmth tracing his face reverently.

"I wish you'd just told me." You murmured. You pressed yourself closer, dragging his hand up your hip until his thumb was pressing hard enough against your skin to feel your heartbeat. "You know me better than this. I love you. You have all my love."

"Even without my sight?" He asked. "I can't... I can't see you. And it's devastating."

That was a peculiar way to describe it. "What could be devastating about that?"

"You really don't know, do you?" He replied. You took both of his hands and slowly lifted them to your face, setting his thumbs against the curve of your lips. "It's hard to come to terms with the darkness winning when you've learned to love the light."

Oh.

"You can't see me," You whisper. You shiver as he drags his fingers across your mouth slowly, allowing them to travel across your face. "But you can learn how to find the light again. Darkness isn't forever."

You spent what felt like hours in silence after that. The Doctor allowed himself to drink in the warmth for the first time in ages, humming as you allowed him to relearn your face. The shape of your eyes. The sweep of your nose, the curve of your lips, the texture of your hair under his fingers.

When he was done, your breath caught as he tangled his fingers in your hair and dragged your head back just enough to expose the slope of your neck. "My love," His voice rumbled deep in his chest. "Tell me, what does it feel like?"

It took you a moment to find your voice as he lowered his head to drag his teeth across your pulse point, followed by the warmth of his lips that elicited a shiver from deep within you. "What does.. What does what feel like, Doctor?"

The last thing he says is, "Being the light." Before he's capturing your lips with his own, and the light overcomes the darkness once again.

#twelfth doctor x reader #12th Doctor x Reader #doctor who imagines #doctor who oneshots

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thefruitonyourfly · 7 months

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Just read a comment under a magireco Madoka's magical girl sequence that said "now Madoka is a badass" and I was like HUH

Like did some of you watched episode 12 blindfolded and with ear plugs? Because I don't think you guys truly grasp the scope of what Madoka did that episode: The Incubator has been on earth for a MILLENNIUM, meaning that has been thousand of girls before Madoka who have tried to outsmart his system and met a terrible fate for their attempts, but only Madoka has been able to beat him, do you guys understand that? The smartest and strongest girls have tried, but something always thwarted their plans—be it their potential not being that high or Kyuubey twisting their words so it would be in his favor instead—But Madoka had something they didn't and it was her circumstances (Homura and the timeloops), Madoka knew her wish would come at a great sacrifice, but just like Homura said in Rebellion "She rose to the occasion" because she knew it was something only she could do; No one would ever have the perfect circumstances to make that wish like Madoka. So, she did it.

When Madoka made her wish and Kyuubey hesitated for the first time in the series because he understood the implication of it, Madoka said to him: "Now, grant my wish, Incubator." When Kriemhild Gretchen was born and Kyuubey thought he had the advantage back again because this witch could literally swallow a planet and Madoka killed her with one shot. Madoka won, essentially. Like her system isn't perfect, Kyuubey isn't dead, and there's still suffering, but it was the best wish for the magical girl kind as a whole, and all improvements are only possible by what Madoka did here. She played within the Incubator's system and rewrote it. She is the most powerful character in the whole franchise and arguably one of the most powerful characters in anime. "But didn't Homucifer defeated Madokami?" Well, sort of. Homura's win is, ironically, also due to extreme circumstances, only Homura could've done that and only within this one scenario: and even when she won it's heavily implied that if Madoka even has a slightly moment of deja vu it's over for her, she can't win against Madoka on fair terms so even Homura herself can't achieve that feat again. That's just how powerful Madoka is.

Do you guys understand that?

And here's the thing: my problem with that statement isn't even that I don't think magireco Madoka isn't as cool as Madokami, I think she's badass too. Is just like, I thought we all thought Madoka was cool as herself?? Like even without being a magical girl or a fucking godess, Madoka was cool as shit. When Madoka risked her own life to save the lives of her friends and strangers at the warehouse? She had no powers, no backup, and had just watched Mami die to a witch and yet she still followed Hitomi. But people only want to see Madoka's character as what the witch showed her afterwards, her own survivors guilt and perceived weakness and cowardice over wanting to live and not be a magical girl despite what she promised Mami, and yet the scene prior to this conflicts with this idea. Madoka not only can risk her life for others and save them when the need arises, but she already has. Even without being a magical girl. It's just who she is. This, to me, is one Madoka Magica's core strenght as a show that Madoka spent the majority of it being the most "powerless" in almost every scenario and yet she still tried her best to overcome things, even when it didn't work It was never worthless, if anything it proved her own strenght of character and without it she would've never gotten as powerful how she is today.

If Madoka hadn't been kind to Homura on her first day of school, if she hadn't done the simple act of reaching out to someone she thought was kind shy, none of this would've have happened. Her kindness did this, not any other power.

My favorite thing about Madoka's character arc is that Madoka starts as a very naive opmitimisc girl and with a somewhat sheltered view of of the world, then she goes throught horrors few can understand and while she could (understably) become bitter with the world and grow to despise it, Madoka comes of it realizing...she was right. Madoka has felt the pain the world could give her in her own skin, has literally died, and she now thinks Hope is needed more than ever. And it saddens me a lot when people don't understand how strong and cool she is because of that, to be hurt and choose to be kinder and more understanding to yourself and the world in return, because the world can be better we just can't give up...

Basically what I'm saying with this that if you don't like Kaname Madoka, fuck you—

#*sees one negative comment on madoka* *snaps and writes an essay at 1am*#guys i am so normal about kaname madoka #this probably has a lot of typos but i'm gonna sleep right now and fix em in the morning #kaname madoka #madoka kaname #madokami #madohomu #akemi homura #pmmm #madoka magica #long post #pmmm analysis

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reashot · 5 days

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Red Like Roses... (It's period 🔴)

Warning: fluffness inside. Also really long.

At Beacon during a more peaceful time.

Pyrrha: Hmmm it's quiet, too quiet.

Ren: I agree. It's never a good sign. We should be ready for something.

Jaune: Ready for what?

Nora: Oh you know usually things never stay quiet for long especially when we're right next door to the main characters.

*yang burst into the room*

Pyrrha: And speaking of the devil.

Yang: Quick hide! *brace the door behind her*

Jaune: Oh Shi- okay gangs we trained for this! Quick initiate Pattern Delta Phi.

Nora: Aye, aye dear leader, let's initiate plan hiding under our bed's like cowards.

JNPR: *Bracing for Impacts.*

*Yang holding the door with all her might*

Ren: Wait what are even hiding from in the first place?

Yang: No time to explain. Here it Comes!

A large sounds resembling explosion came from across the hallway. The door starts to violently shakes and rose petals soon violently burst into the room. Even with Yang putting all her strength into the door. Some rose petals still managed to get inside.

Yang: .... I think we're in the clear now.

Pyrrha: What just happened?

Yang: Eh, promise not to freak out?

Jaune: Okay, I guess...

Yang: Good enough. *shows team JNPR the source of the roses*

Ruby: Huee~ *sniffs* huee~ 😭

Jaune: Ruby?

Ren: It seems to be her.

Pyrrha: Wait. Where are Blake and Weiss?

Nora: Found them. They're buried under all of this Rose petals.

Blake: *coughing up a bunch of petals* Eww I got some of it in my mouth.

Weiss: .... I just saw my grandfather.

Jaune: Okay, can someone now please tell us what is going on....

*Cardin burst into the room*

Cardin: Why the Fuck are there Roses all over the damn hallways!?

Russel: Don't try to lie we know it's coming from team RWBY!

Yang: Wow, wow! False accusation, much?

Dove: Well we can't help it. Because whenever something bad happened It's usually always you four.

Sky: Fucking Main characters shit...

Nora: I know right!

Pyrrha: Nora! Which sides are you on?

Nora: Oops my bad... (I mean, I'm not wrong 😒.)

Ren: *shrugs his head* Nora...

Jaune: Can all of you please stop being aggro for just one second!

You're upsetting Ruby for brother's sake.

Ruby: Wah! Wah! Wah! 😭

Jaune: Also can someone please tell me what just happened?

WBY: *looking at each others*

Yang: *sigh* (I guess I'm the one that should tell everyone.)

How do I gently put this? Ruby is in her special time of the month...

Jaune: Oh...

Cardin: The fuck does that even mean?

Russel: the month?

Dove: I see... (Maybe if I silently nod people will not think I'm dumb.)

Sky: (okay, she had her period. What does that have to with anything?)

Blake: Typical.

Weiss: Can you guys be anymore of a dudebros cliche?

CRDL: Hey!!!!

Yang: Let me put it this way. Every time Ruby has her "special month" her semblance's goes all haywire for some reason.

Jaune: Okay I get the gist of it. Team CRDL go outside and clean the hallway.

Cardin: What! Why the fuck should we clean up their mess?!

Jaune: Because I fucking said so. Now go!

Cardin: Geez... Whatever. C'mon boys, we better clean up team RWBY's mistakes. Again!

*slams door*

Blake: Thanks Jaune.

Weiss: Geez Arc, when did you grow a spine?

Yang: I gotta say Vomit Boy. I never knew you had it in you.

Pyrrha: *blush* (So manly.)

Nora: That's our Jaun-Jaun.

Jaune: Blake, Weiss. Please help Cardin & his team with the clean up outside.

Weiss: What! No way. Why should we help those dunderheads in the first place.

Jaune: Because they're right that the mess was started by your team.

Weiss: I'm sorry, our? For the record it's just Rub...

Blake: We're on it Jaune. C'mon Weiss let's help clean up all this roses. *drags Weiss away*

Jaune: Pyrrha, Ren, Nora. I also want you to go out side and help them.

Pyrrha: I understand Jaune. I will do as you ask.

Nora: Oh c'mon Jaune, why us too?

Jaune: Because they're our friends, Nora.

Nora: Well I'm about to go back to my room... *gets yoinked*

Ren: It's okay Jaune. I will get her to help us.

Nora: *grumble* (Fucking Main characters....)

Jaune: Thanks Ren. And Yang I want you to stay and find Ruby's "hygiene" products.

Yang: Wow, wow! Settle down cowpoke. I don't think you being a man is qualified to be the one to help with Ruby's "issue."

Jaune: I have seven Sisters...

Yang: Sweet brothers in heaven!

Uh, I take that back you're clearly overqualified.

At least I don't have to help clean up. But what're you going to do Jaune?

Jaune: I'm going to go back to my room to make a tea for Ruby.

A few minutes later.

Jaune: Here you go Ruby. A sweet herbal tea with plenty of honey and sugar.

Ruby: ... *sniffs* Thank you Jaune. 😢

*sips*

Jaune: It's okay Ruby you don't have to thank me.

Ruby: But I caused so much problems for everyone. *sniffle*😞

Jaune: *headpat*

There, there Ruby it's okay that what's friends are for. And you didn't troubled me one bit. In fact I'm happy to be of use to you. It reminds me that I'm still useful to someone.

Ruby: Jaune please don't think like that. You always were important to everyone.

Jaune: *kiss forehead*

It's nice of you think that Ruby. But I'm not. I'm not special like you. You're destined for great thing while I'm.... Just me.

Ruby: 0-0

Jaune: What's the matter... Ohhh, ohhh no. I'm so-so sorry Ruby I didn't realize that... I usually did that to my little sister whenever she's sad.

Ruby: *blush*

I-I don't mind it at all Jaune. It's just that if you want to do it to me again a little heads up would be nice. 😖

Jaune: I'm so-so sorry Ruby I promise that I... Wait, what do you mean by again?

Ruby: Uhh....

Yang: *clears throat*

I seems to have interrupted something here.

Jaune: Y-Yang!

Ruby: Sis!

Yang: Look Rubes I don't need to say this but remember what dad said. No boys. And Jaune please don't take this the wrong way but please for your sake please don't get any idea with Ruby. It will not end well for you.

Jaune: O-of course. I will never-ever think of Ruby like that. We're just friends after all.

Ruby: Friends... 😭

*starts crying*

Jaune: Oh, what's the matter Ruby?

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wolfjackle-creates · 6 months

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 17

Damn, how did this get to a part 17????

Here's the promised WIP Wednesday (on a Thursday)!

I had a lot of fun writing this part. The words just flowed so easily.

If you didn't notice, I now have the first arc posted on AO3. It covers the first three parts I've shared here along with some extras that I never did.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.9k

-----

By the time morning had rolled around, Tim had also signed them up for a 7:30 AM and a 6 PM TV interview. Hopefully they could do enough damage control to mitigate the worst of Walker’s bad PR, whatever that turned out to be.

Tim nudged everyone awake at 5 AM. Conner and Cassie got up the easiest.

“Morning, Rob,” Conner said through a yawn. “Time to prepare for our interview?”

“Yep. We’ll be going in uniform since this is an interview for the Young Justice.”

“Great,” said Cassie. “We’ll be ready.”

Tim went to Danny next. “Hey, Danny.” The boy didn’t move, so Tim shook his shoulder slightly.

“Wha…?” Danny blinked his eyes open. “Wha’s goin on?”

“Me and the others are going to our interviews. We’ll be back in a few hours, kay?”

Danny just blinked at him and Tim laughed fondly.

“I’ll leave a note.”

Tim skipped breakfast on their way out, though Bart offered him some breakfast bars.

“It’s too late to be up,” Tim yawned.

Conner laughed as he hugged Tim and wrapped him in his TTK. They rose several feet into the air. “You should not have pulled that all-nighter.”

“How else was I supposed to be awake in time?”

Tim could feel the way Conner shook his head. “Just tell me where to go. I’ll get us there.”

Tim pointed to an area in town. “It’s over that way.”

Bart grinned. “I’ll meet you three there!”

“We won’t be long,” said Cassie.

With the benefit of flying, they were at the radio station within fifteen minutes. Sometimes being friends with metas made life so much easier.

As soon as they entered, a team of people greeted them.

“You were actually serious!” exclaimed a tall, white man. “Thought for sure it was a joke when I got your email last night. I’m Steve and I’ll be your interviewer this morning.”

Tim shook his hand. “Good morning, Steve. Robin at your service, and these are Superboy, Wonder Girl, and Impulse.”

Then they had to be introduced to all the producers, sound engineers, and assistants. If it hadn’t been for his parents’ gala training, Tim was certain he would’ve forgotten all the names instantly.

The employees knew how to do their jobs, however, and despite everyone wanting to meet the heroes, in less than twenty minutes, they were set up in the recording studio.

“So,” said Steve. “I just want to make sure I get this right. You, Robin, have been friends with Phantom for a while now and wanted to tell our listeners the truth about him. That he’s actually a hero and not a menace.”

“That’s right, Steve. I knew him before… Well, he’s a ghost. You know what before implies. He was there for me when I first became Robin. Now I want to be there for him when he’s dealing with similar struggles.”

“That’s not what any of the experts believe.”

Conner snorted. “The so-called experts in this town want to completely destroy any and all ghosts. Don’t think they’re unbiased.”

Bart nodded. “Yeah. We may not have known Phantom as long as Robin, here. But he’s a good guy. Helped us out when we got stranded here.”

“Stranded, eh? Mind if I ask you more about that on air?”

Tim laughed. “You can ask whatever you like. But I can’t guarantee we’ll answer everything. Secret missions and all that, you understand.”

Steve sighed theatrically. “It was worth a shot. Now, we’ll be going live in about five minutes and we’ll have three segments of eight minutes separated by two minute ad breaks. For a total of thirty minutes in the studio. Anything in particular you want me to ask?”

Tim pulled a sheet of paper out of his utility belt. “I wrote some down, if you don’t mind. They should be engaging and broad enough to please your audience and personal curiosity.”

“I won’t ask only from this list, you understand,” said Steve as he took it.

“Of course not. The first three are ones I do request that you ask, however. Beyond those, they’re just suggestions.”

Steve skimmed the list and nodded. “I can work with this.”

Beyond the window, the sound technician made a signal.

“All right, everyone. That’s the one minute mark. Let me introduce you before you say anything, capiche?”

Tim gave a thumbs up and the others added their assent.

The “on air” light turned on and Steve spoke in a voice much more performative than the one he’d been using. “Good Morning, Amity Park! This is Steve Boyce here to help you bring in the day. How are you early birds doing? Have I got a treat for you today! So last night I got absolutely no sleep because at nine thirty, shortly after our newly implemented curfew, I got a surprise email. From no other than the heroes who helped us out the other night when we were attacked! That’s right! The one and only Robin from Gotham emailed my and asked to come on my small, local show. So he and the Teen Titans are here with me. Let’s give them a warm Amity welcome, what do you say?”

Cassie laughed. “Thanks for that introduction, Steve. I’m Wonder Girl and I’d like to clarify one point. The former Teen Titans have kept the name Titans even if they’re no longer Teens. So we’ve decided to go by a new name.”

Bart nodded. “Yep. We’re the Young Justice now.”

Steve laughed. “Looks like I’ve already put my foot in it. Let me correct myself, let’s give the Young Justice a warm Amity welcome.”

Tim put on the happy gala voice his parents had drilled into him. “Not at all! It’s a new change and we’ve never really operated out here before. Even back home in San Francisco or Gotham we get called the Teen Titans more often than not. We’re just on a crusade to get the name change to stick.”

“Well I’m sure all of my listeners will be sure to get it right going forward. Now, let’s get down to business. We’re all thrilled that you were around to help us out the other night, but what brought you to Amity to begin with? Mayor Montez has publicly stated he never even had a chance to reach out for help before you were on the scene.”

“That was all Robin’s doing,” said Conner. “He’s friends with Phantom, you know.”

“Yep,” agreed Tim. “We were in the area when our transport broke down. Impulse figured out where we were and I knew of Amity due to my friendship with Phantom. Since we weren’t on a time limit, we decided to pop into town for a visit. Imagine our surprise when our very first evening here, we experienced a ghost invasion!”

Cassie laughed. “Oh, come on, Rob. With our lives, it really wasn’t that surprising.”

“Yeah,” said Bart. “We’ve totally had weirder things happen to us.”

Steve leaned forward and pitched his tone lower as if conspiring with them. “Well, I’ll definitely be asking for some of the details on what those might’ve been later. But first, I have to ask. Robin, how did you meet Phantom? He’s that ghost in the black-and-white jumpsuit, right? As far as I know, he’s only ever been seen in Amity. And you’ve certainly never been here before.”

Tim took a breath, this was the moment. “Yep, that’s him. And, well, it may be strange, but I knew him before he was ever Phantom.”

“Before he was Phantom? Do you mean…” Steve let his voice trail off.

Tim let out a low sigh and closed his eyes. He really had to sell this. “Yeah.” He made sure his voice was rough. “Yeah. I knew him before he died. He was one of my best friends growing up and we’ve known each other for years.”

Conner put a hand on his shoulder. “Rob…”

When even Steve needed a second to figure out how to reply, Tim figured he did a good enough job. “So you know him when he was alive,” Steve said. “Who was he? Where did he live?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” said Tim. “He was young when he died and his family don’t need people harassing them. They’ve been through a lot. And I know Phantom’s reputation isn’t the best.”

Steve let out another put-upon sigh. “And there you go being reasonable when all I want is the hot gossip. Fine, no questions about who Phantom was. I’m sure you were thrilled when you found out he came back as a ghost, though.”

Tim laughed and was glad Steve was able to change the mood of the interview so quickly without him doing anything. “Oh absolutely. I near about had a heart attack when he called me up out of the blue to say he was a ghost now! This was my first opportunity to visit him since, you know.”

Conner nudged him. “So he brought us along for the ride.”

Steve hummed. “So for the rest of you, this is your first time meeting Phantom?”

“Yep,” said Bart. “I like him. He’s cool.”

“So, Impulse, you think he’s trying to help us. Because it seems like whenever he shows up, things get broken and we have to spend days or weeks and tens of thousands on repairs.”

“Robin knows more about it than I do,” said Bart, “but I guess what let Phantom cross back over to Earth is allowing other ghosts to cross back over. Phantom just wants to spend more time with his living family and friends. The others ghosts…”

“They want more than that,” finished Tim. “Phantom’s explained it to me a bit. They all have something driving them that can only be fulfilled on Earth. And they don’t care what they have to do to satisfy that drive. So Phantom steps in to try and prevent them from causing too much damage or hurting anyone. Then he forces them back to the dimension they come from.”

“In fact,” added Cassie. “We spent all night talking with Phantom and we got his side of the story on several of his fights since he first came to Amity. We’ve written it all up and submitted them to the local paper, so look in the OpEds over the next few days if you want to know the truth.”

“Oh, well now you’ve definitely got me intrigued! I think I will. Anything you'd be willing to share with us now?”

“Do you remember how a month or two ago, a giant robot was seen in Amity?” asked Tim.

“Not something I’m likely to forget!”

Tim laughed. “I’m sure! Well, what you don’t know is that he crossed over to Earth from the Ghost Zone about three or four days before you ever saw him. Phantom kept him from gaining a physical body for days before Technus was able to get past him.”

“Really? So you’re saying that without Phantom, we would’ve been dealing with that robot for a lot longer?”

“Yep.”

Steve asked several more questions about Phantom. Some serious: How does he plan to decrease property damage going forward? We’re coaching him on how to move a fight and deescalate conflict. And some light hearted: So I heard he’s a dog person? Oh, absolutely. A ghost dog adopted him a few weeks ago.

Then the questions turned more personal as he moved on from Phantom and asked about their lives and exploits. And before they knew it, the interview was over.

“Thanks for reaching out,” Steve said as soon as they left the recording studio. “You are by far the biggest guests I’ve ever had on.”

“Thanks for agreeing to have us on so last minute,” said Tim.

“How could I possibly say no?”

-----

Hope you enjoyed the interview! I probably won't go into detail for the TV one since it'd just be rehashing the same information.

I no longer do tag lists, but I do have a Subscription Post if you want to be notified of updates.

#dpxdc #tim excels at interviews #his parents trained him for it from the cradle #and the rest have done them before #and they actually care about making danny look good #so theyre gonna behave #steve didnt sleep a wink before this interview #he got the email and was half convinced it was a prank #had a backup show planned and everything #the staff totally made copies of this show #and everyone took home a tape #(management turned a blind eye though thats usually discouraged)

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