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hannigramficrecs · 3 years

Text

A/B/O

The One That Got Away by whatacunningboy [words: 4,694]

Hannibal Lecter had this macabre air to his name. Everyone knew who he was and in what he specialized in—assassination was his trade and no one questioned it. He could make anyone disappear with a simple trick or two. He never missed a target, he was quiet, and swift. Yet, he missed the biggest target of all.

Ethics & Aesthetics by fragile-teacup [words: 106,330]

Pride and Prejudice omegaverse AU

Beginning and Ending by LittleUggie [words: 36,888]

19 year old Will gets cornered in an alley right before his first heat. Hannibal steps into help him out and decides he wants to keep the young omega. Will eventually comes around, against his better judgement. Let the mutual manipulation and power games begin.

I Could Just Eat You Up by orphan_account [words: 32,604]

Hannibal breeds Will. A love story in bodily fluids.

Sirens Wail by Breakmybones [words: 48,495]

Will has been an Omega since his eighteenth birthday. He's been a Beta since his twenty-third. Finding a mate was never a priority - staying out of the spotlight and keeping his secret was. Enter Hannibal: dark, dangerous and keeping secrets of his own, Will knows what he is from the beginning, but he's more interested in understanding the beast than slaying it.

Bright Hair About The Bone by MissDisoriental [words: 484,669]

In a world where omegas are little more than trophies to be bought and sold, Will Graham has done the unthinkable by escaping a forced bonding. Already in high demand as a profiler, Will's determined to find freedom on his own terms.For Hannibal Lecter the outlook is far more straightforward: a slow, systematic seduction of the most uniquely captivating omega he's ever encountered.As the shadow of a new and terrifying serial killer falls over Baltimore, the stage is set to redefine all accepted meanings of passion, temptation, horror and beauty – and to discover the ecstasy of a genuine love crime.

Not Interested by Watermelonsmellinfellon [words: 64,333]

Will Graham, an Omega of forty-four years, finally finds himself interested in an Alpha. The only problem... that Alpha is not interested in him! And he can't stand it!

The Only Place I Can Hold You by snapdragonpop007 [words: 27,865]

“Hello, Jack.” These past two years had not been kind to Will Graham-Lecter. The solitary confinement that Chilton had promised would help had only seemed to make the omega worse. “I was wondering when you were gonna come talk to me.” Will hadn’t looked up from the book in his hands. He was running his fingertips across the pages, and when Jack looked a little closer he could see that it was full of photographs.

Friends To Lovers by Sirenja, TigerPrawn [words: 8,008]

When Harry Met Sally AU

Consortio by kelex [words: 23,088]

Every Omega in the land is brought to the lord on the evening of their first heat. Lord Hannibal usually doesn't choose to exercise that right, but this night's offering is too much for him to pass up. A virgin Omega in his first heat, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a spirit that can't be broken.

Sharing A Bed by TigerPrawn [words: 4,150]

Will, Hannibal, Jimmy and Zeller are sent to Butfuck Nowhere on a case and the small hotel has messed up the booking leaving them with only 2 rooms between the 4 of them. And specifically Omega Will having to share with Hannibal, the only Alpha on the trip.

Stormchaser by YouAreMyDesign [words: 6,465]

One thing, Hannibal knows absolutely; Will is empty, all the time. He aches to be filled.

Pathology by YouAreMyDesign [words: 14,129]

In his periphery, Hannibal's head tilts. "Tell me," he purrs, "how exactly does one your age come to enroll in an FBI training facility?"

There Will Be Bells by Entropyrose [words: 36,639]

In Georgian England, male omegas are very rare diamonds. Baron and Baroness Graham have a plan to build their wealth and social status by offering their son Will's hand in marriage to a mysterious older Duke, an Alpha named Lord Hannibal Lecter. Will's personal feelings need not apply.

Alpha Mart by slashyrogue [words: 63,164]

Will needs an alpha. After years of fake knots, half-assed suppressants, and his own damn hand during heats he’s reached the end of his rope. He doesn’t do dating so he decides to waste his life savings and hype with the current trend. Alpha Mart.

Enchanted By Your Name by CarnivalMirai [words: 9,207]

“Now, my husband would prefer it if I got the job done quickly.” He says, slashing down the back of each gag as he passes each man, watching as the silk falls gracefully to the floor. “However, I want to have some fun. Considering you’ve troubled my husband so much… it’s only fair, right?” One of the men whimpered fearfully. Or: The name "Will Graham" is a name you'll only ever hear once.

I've Been Building Black Ships by cloudsarefluffy [words: 8,116]

Alpha Hannibal moves to the States with his sister Mischa after being overtly done with the fancy life of a count, and his blind omega neighbor gives him an insight into love that he never quite expected.

A Rare Find by hit_the_books [words: 5,379]

Life as an omega bookseller can be quite lonely. However, as the owner of Graham’s Books, Will Graham is reasonably content. That is until he meets—long-time customer and crush—Doctor Hannibal Lecter in person for the first time. Attraction blossoming between them both, Will agrees to a dinner date with the good doctor.

We All Have a Hunger by 1ntothew1ld [words: 12,260]

Hannibal will ensure a properly slow and painful death for an alpha who allowed a beautiful young omega to go to waste as this one has. Too skinny for his own good, a stuttering and humble mess. The likes of the omega in front of him belonged at Opera houses and in million-dollar mansions, not scrounging for his next meal. Meek and afraid in some disheveled row house. When he finally looked back up the alpha had to conceal the utter punch to the stomach that meager glance was, blue eyes full of innocence but also hunger.

The Doctor Is In by Kummerspeck7

Will nearly scoffed. "You can't expect me to believe you'd want anything other than a delicate flower to adorn your side, keep your ostentatious home, bare you the exact number of children you want--No more, no less-- all while being available at your whims." "Not at all." Hannibal disagreed. "I would no more put a wilting flower in my home than in a bouquet given as a gift. Tell me, Will, is that how you are treated? Forbidden from work, cloistered inside and used at Mr Brown's discretion?" "My Alpha's discretion." Hannibal looked pointedly at the curve of Will's neck, free from a single scar. "Not yet he isn't."

Sugar by Sweaty_dogman [words: 12,659]

Hannibal finds himself hung up on his friends mother, desperate to find ways to spend time with the omega. Will Graham is a beautiful, kind and single omega. The young alpha finds himself struggling to keep his emotions hidden.

No One Falls the Way We Fell by HigherMagic [words: 9,206]

Five years ago, Hannibal's mate died, leaving him with their young daughter. He's tried to move on, but Abigail keeps interrupting his sleep and insisting that she can see her mother in her room at night. Hannibal turns to Alana for help, and Alana gives Abigail a doll, someone to talk to and help her accept her mother's passing. Once the doll arrives, though, strange things start happening in Hannibal's house. It's impossible to consider, of course, but if anyone could defy death and return to them from beyond the grave, it would be Will.

Proud of You by CarnivalMirai [words: 11,748]

Will worked right up until labour to make money, through all the sickness and fatigue and swollen ankles, he worked to bring his little boy the best life. And it has paid off. As of last week, Hannibal has sent off his university applications. Medicine at Johns Hopkins, Harvard Medical School, Stanford University, and the University of Pennsylvania. He’s applied for a scholarship at all of them, and Will desperately hopes he gets it. He knows he will. He’s Hannibal, after all. His baby can do anything.

Venus Is Bright by wolfgraham [words: 7,237]

Tomorrow, he tells himself, tomorrow he'll set new rules, boundaries. He'll tidy up Hannibal's room and give him the talk, and download Matefinder on his phone. But is it so bad? So bad to wish that the world outside the two of them would just disappear and leave them be?

Creator by Caidepgun, wolfgraham [words: 5,589]

Will and his son, Hannibal, have an unusual relationship.

My First, My Last, My Everything by TheBl00dyFl0wer [words: 14,930]

Will Graham's encephalitis gets out of control and messes with his hormones, mutates him. May I present: Will Graham, the first known Omega.

Room 205 by HotMolasses [words: 9,220]

Will is an Alpha, but in name only. He's a hotel maid at the Graham Bed & Breakfast. He considers himself a freak; an Alpha with no knot, who dreams of a powerful Omega to dominate him. He's pretty certain that because of this, he'll be alone for the rest of his life. Then he meets Hannibal Lecter.

Howl by multifandom_fanfic_writer [words: 7,083]

When omegas go into heat, they go feral. Only an alpha strong enough to subdue them is a worthy mate. Will Graham has never found anyone worthy. After all, there is only one alpha Will plans to submit to – and he doesn’t even know their name.

Careful, He Bites by maxxeoff [words: 10,328]

Will Graham is a feral child. His dad died when he was five, and he lives with a wolf pack until he has his first heat. He's found, brought to Baltimore. Dr. Lecter takes an interest in him.

Predator by eijirouN_17 [words: 7,619]

Will hasn't presented, he doesn't give off any scent at all so everyone, including himself, assumes he's a beta. Then Will goes into heat. At a crime scene. In front of everyone. And Hannibal tries so hard not to go feral.

#abo

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rebrandedbard · 3 years

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A Bard He Would A-Wooing Go (6858 words)

Gift for @valdomarx: some good old mutual pining morons. In which Jaskier courts Geralt and Geralt is oblivious. Ao3 link in title.

Jaskier wrote a song like counting; Counting the years, the steps, until one day he might count the seconds and centimeters of distance that seemed to stretch like oceans between them. Each of them were like marks on a calendar, an entry in a diary to mark the progress. At first, he hid his true intentions behind false names and romantic figures, crafting beautiful damsels for the recipients of his verses in the time when he was still uncertain, but when the depth of his love became apparent to himself, he decided the day had come to be more overt.

He sang of a beautiful man with hair kissed by moonlight, eyes of amber still hollowed with the liquid golden honey left to flow inside. This he played by the evening fire, casting shy glances at Geralt over the flames. “Do you like my new song?” he asked.

“You inflate my image enough already,” Geralt replied in his usual gruff manner. The idea was to make him a hero of monster-slaying, not the heroine of some romance. Jaskier’s verses were too pretty and flattering, bound to be laughed at by the public. Moonlight and honey—such descriptions were wasted on witchers.

Jaskier frowned and played the second verse a little louder, ignoring his response. “I would rather sing it below a balcony; perhaps the artistry of the setting would help better mold your opinion.” He took on a faraway, doe-eyed expression as he spoke, strumming the gentle melody. “I would weave a crown of clover and present it to you. Yes, I think that would suit you fine. You’d cut a majestic figure, lighted by the stars. I would pluck one from the heavens and offer it to you so that it might sit atop your head, the very jewel of the crown, so that all might better see how brightly you shine.”

“Your songs do enough as it is. No need to crown me,” Geralt scoffed. He was not some divine hero. He was a witcher working for pay, and it was crude work. “You romanticize everything too much.”

“Oh, what would you know of it? You haven’t got a romantic bone in your body.”

“First true thing you’ve said tonight.”

“The honey was more than true,” Jaskier huffed. He played the verse again, then stopped, something new glittering in his eye. It was an idea, Geralt recognized. He was far too familiar with that expression by now to mistake it, and he knew there would be a long, terrible enterprise awaiting him. Jaskier started to smile, and he took to his feet.

“Geralt of Rivia!” he proclaimed. “I’ve decided that this will not do. A simple song is not enough! Let it now be known that it is my intention, henceforth, to court you with all the trim, all the pomp, all the circumstance and bells and whistles! You must know the pleasures of romance in their many forms, and I will leave no stone unturned, no mountain unclimbed, until you have been thoroughly romanced!”

Geralt groaned and closed his eyes. He was not interested in a study of human courtship. He was especially uninterested in receiving such lessons from Jaskier of all people. Yet he knew there was no refusing once Jaskier set his mind to anything. Whether he wanted to or not, whatever protests he’d make, Jaskier would not be denied. The bastard would dig in his heels and get his way, and this—it was this game of his that would at last be the thing to kill Geralt. This farce would not be something Geralt’s heart would survive in one piece. He retired early, hoping the declaration would be forgotten in the morning if he gave no reaction. The slightest acknowledgement was all the encouragement Jaskier needed.

The next day, to his surprise, Jaskier was the first awake. He’d gone wandering in the woods before sunrise and returned with his arms laden with flowers. Geralt had awoken to the smell of the bouquet waved under his nose.

“Good morning, my dear witcher,” Jaskier said, grinning ear to ear. “Welcome to the first morning of the rest of your life! A humble offering, still wet with sweet morning dew.” He bobbed and placed the bouquet in Geralt’s hands with finesse before bounding over to relight the fire and begin their breakfast. To Geralt’s even greater surprise, there were five fish speared in the dirt beside it. Jaskier had gone fishing, it seemed. Flowers, fish—would there be a third gesture awaiting him so early in the morning? Or perhaps being first up was the gesture itself. Jaskier was not an early riser by any measure. Geralt might as well still be asleep as unbelievable as it was.

“So, you were serious about that courting thing,” Geralt said.

Jaskier waved his flints in the air dramatically. “Perfectly serious. Honestly, Geralt, you must have known this day would come.”

And Geralt had to admit, after several days spent with Jaskier giving lessons detailing the etiquette of the high courts, the more fashionable dances of the season, a history of the textile arts in which he explained how his doublets were made from the harvest of the fibers all the way through decorative pleating, and the proper forms of address for peers in no less than seven countries … yes, Geralt ought to have known that courting customs were next on the list of useless trivia Jaskier meant to impart.

At first, there was not much fuss and they were able to get on as usual. Geralt didn’t know what he expected in regards to a courtship from Jaskier, but what little thought he’d given the subject conjured images of endless smothering, Jaskier waxing poetic, arms waving dramatically, attaching himself at the hip of his hapless, adoring victim. But perhaps courtship was a one-a-day expression and that would be all until tomorrow.

He was wrong in multiple ways. Jaskier did not leap upon him with some obnoxious peacocking gesture, but he took it upon himself to pack camp after breakfast. Geralt watched him shuffle about, humming quietly. Jaskier had insisted Geralt stay out of the matter and sent him off to ready Roach. Camp packed, Jaskier tied their things to her saddle, and Geralt notice that he’d been careful to arrange the bags just as he himself might, the weight evenly distributed, potion bag furthest in front in easy reach, the rest in the order in which they’d need unpacking come evening. It was observant to say the least. Such a little thing, really, but Geralt was impressed.

“Ready?” Jaskier asked, offering Geralt his hand.

Geralt looked curiously at it, not sure what it was meant for. Jaskier was looking at him expectantly, and for an absurd moment, Geralt thought he wanted a tip like the men who kept Roach tended to in stables in town. At a loss, he shook Jaskier’s hand and turned to hook his foot in the stirrup. He startled when Jaskier took his hand again and helped him up over the side.

It was ridiculous. Geralt needed no help mounting. Yet … something about the action stuck with Geralt. It had been brief, but the way Jaskier had looked up at him as he held his hand, he looked almost as if he’d been about to kiss it.

Geralt wished he would.

After a while of travelling in companionable silence, Geralt inched his head to the side. He looked at Jaskier from the corner of his eye and asked, “What are your plans for this?” wondering just how well Jaskier had thought this silly game through.

“The courtship? Oh, flowers, sweets, dancing—the usual,” Jaskier replied with a careless wave of his hand. He played so casual, and yet Geralt saw the mischievous quirk of his lips. There was more. Jaskier was a great lover of surprises, both in giving and receiving.

Jaskier fiddled with one of his lute strings, running his nail up and down its length shyly. “I’m surprised you’ve accepted it without quarrel,” he said. “Thrilled, really. Not to imply that I’m blind to your reservations; I know how you must feel about the idea of formal courtship: a lot of fluff and unnecessary nonsense. But this is how I express my love, and it means a great deal to me that you would allow me to share the experience with you.”

“It’s not such a great burden,” Geralt replied, offering a light shrug.

Jaskier laughed. “No, indeed, I shouldn’t think so! It’s a gift—the greatest gift of all.”

Geralt snorted and argued that a new set of armour would be a much greater gift.

“Ever the pragmatist,” Jaskier sighed, smacking Geralt’s boot with a smile.

When they stopped for lunch, Jaskier offered his hand once more to help Geralt dismount. After eating, Geralt put his gloves quietly away in one of the bags, muttering to himself that is was a warm day, as if Jaskier might notice and wonder. And though the air had a leftover chill of early spring, when the time came to ride off again, his hand felt hot in Jaskier’s. Geralt soon forgot his gloves entirely, had misplaced them quite carelessly among his bags or on the road. But Jaskier never commented on their absence.

In addition to the attentions Jaskier lavished upon Geralt, Roach benefitted from a surge in care. Jaskier brushed her coat nearly every other day, and it was shinier than ever before. He braided wildflowers in her mane, styled each morning length by length. Afterwards, he would brush Geralt’s hair, braiding it to match. It was the most preposterous thing, and yet Geralt could not help feeling a silly sort of happiness. Jaskier had been feeling much bolder since the first day, and had even allowed himself to put flowers in Geralt’s braids. Geralt would wake to find them on his bedroll in the morning—Jaskier wasn’t as sneaky as he liked to imagine.

It was new, Jaskier brushing Geralt’s hair this way. He might comb Geralt’s hair after a bath or wrestle a brush through it when it had begun to resemble a feral rat’s nest, but now it was more regularly maintained. There was no excuse of necessity. Geralt could close his eyes and enjoy the moment, Jaskier’s gentle hands at work, sometimes simply scratching his scalp, the brush abandoned for minutes at a time. It was such a tender gesture, Geralt at times forgot that it was nothing more than a demonstration.

But oh, Jaskier went to such lengths so teach! He had Roach re-shoed in the city with fine new horseshoes, claiming that the shoes would clip and clop and ring out the song of his heart on every cobblestone, and that the gait of her stride itself would be a reminder of his devotion. And truly, as they walked her to the stables afterwards, Geralt heard their cheerful mocking with each step, “It’s all a game! It’s all a game!” He was glad to give her the day off to rest, and to avoid the clippity-clop of her bright new shoes.

Geralt tried to be objective. When they spent the evening at a tavern, listening to a local bard perform, he did not allow his thoughts to linger on the hand resting over his on the bench. Nor did he read into things when Jaskier asked him to dance. Dancing—the usual. It was one of the most basic aspects of courtship.

When they spun in and out of the formation on the dance floor, when Jaskier entwined their fingers, when Jaskier pulled them close together, Geralt tried in vain to blame his dizziness on the spinning steps. When someone tried to cut in for a quick romp with Jaskier, only for Jaskier to snatch Geralt’s waist again in rejection of the advance, Geralt did not let his thoughts linger on how pretty the young woman had been and how well Jaskier might look dancing with her, nor the thrill he’d felt in that instance of being so firmly chosen against such an enticing offer.

Though there were contracts to be fulfilled, Jaskier found ways to steal Geralt away for an hour or two here and there and between. He’d dragged Geralt along to see a play: something very modern and poetic. They paid for standing admission, the cheapest and, according to Jaskier, the very best way to appreciate the art up close. They talked throughout, joking with the other patrons and laughing at the worst bits in near-vicious mockery. Evidently, that was the only way to enjoy anything so poorly critiqued, and a step above throwing rotten fruit. He bought them a little parcel of candied nuts, and now and then they flicked a nut at the very worst actor for having every other line fed to him from offstage. They came away laughing with not a single guess as to what the play itself had been about.

The next week they were on the road again, and things were quieter. The city provided so many forms of entertainment, but Geralt liked it best when it was only the two of them, nestled in the calm of nature. Jaskier was lively, and the environment affected his mood. Out in the woods, his gestures were sweeter, smaller, and sentimental. Geralt enjoyed this gentler aspect of Jaskier’s courtship, for his method changed between the city and the road.

Away from the excitement and bustle, Jaskier expressed himself more subtly. As if by magic, ingredients for Geralt’s potion stock would be replenished after one of Jaskier’s morning walks. He did not make grand declarations or even show any signs of wishing to be acknowledged for the little things he did. He simply did them, waiting to catch Geralt’s smile.

“Here,” Jaskier said, tossing a coiled bit of leather at Geralt. It was a braided strap of cord, burnt black over the fire. “In your favorite gloomy color,” he teased. “Your old tie is a twist from falling apart; I thought you might like a new one to tie back your hair.”

Geralt smiled, and he was sure he’d begun to build muscle in his cheeks from how often that had happened now. He admired the tie, running his thumb over the pattern. Cautiously, he edged closer to Jaskier and handed it back to him. He turned around, offering Jaskier his back and whispered, “Would you fix it for me?”

At once, Jaskier’s hands were in his hair, swapping out the old tie for the new. When Geralt turned back around, Jaskier had the old tie fasted to his wrist, looking down at it with a gentle smile. His eyes flickered back up to Geralt, and that same shy expression softened his features from that day when he’d presented his new song. A new shine glinted in his eyes, a fresh spark that danced in the firelight. Geralt’s words of thanks died on his tongue at the sight of it. His eyes roamed Jaskier’s face, taking in the warmth of his gaze.

So loving. So deceptively close to genuine. What a fantastic actor Jaskier would make, Geralt thought. He even smelled happy. Like … vanilla. He leaned closer, breathing it in. By now he’d forgotten the smile in Jaskier’s eyes, forgot how long he’d ceased to study it. Now he’d been distracted by the smile on his lips, taking in their color, the shape of them. He wanted a better look. If he touched them, perhaps he’d learn what made them turn up the way they did—might know how much of their warmth was owed to the fire, how much was owed to Jaskier. He thought they’d come nearer now, and he could just make out the small lines in them. The scent of vanilla was stronger, sweeter, and he felt the touch of Jaskier’s hand brush his cheek.

Jaskier’s hands rose, curling back around his neck as he leaned forward. Geralt blinked rapidly, tilting his head a fraction to the side. His slow heart fluttered to life in his chest. Often he’d imagined what it might be like to be in this very moment. Once, he’d even had the pleasure of dreaming it, but living it was more unbelievable. That Jaskier might kiss him was unfathomable, yet he was here, his hands reaching out, his lips parting, the nearness of him overwhelming and gloriously true. Geralt had nearly closed his eyes when he felt a slight tug on his hair.

“There,” Jaskier said with satisfaction, pulling away. “It was a bit crooked.”

His hair. Jaskier had leaned forward to … to fix his hair.

Jaskier was up now, walking toward their bags. The wind of the motion sent a chill through Geralt and he slumped forward, feeling suddenly cold. He’d been on the flat of a mountain once, standing at the edge of a cliff, all the wide world below him. Looking down, he’d felt as if the world might swallow him up. The sky above was so clear, devoid of even clouds, and he felt he might fall into it if only to relieve the endless void. That was how Jaskier’s absence felt. The wind which had commanded the mountainside was but a puff of air compared to the waft of air left in Jaskier’s wake. Geralt turned like a dying flower turns toward the sun, longing after him.

The bedroll was made smooth beneath Jaskier’s attentive hands as he went about preparing to retire. Geralt sighed and watched, trying to remind himself again that he was reading too much between lines that were unwritten: lines like bars in a cell. His infatuation was unfounded, and this scheme of Jaskier’s to educate Geralt in the ways of courting was only fuel to the fire. What a pointless endeavour. When would Geralt ever use this knowledge? To aid Jaskier as he pursued his fancy of the month? To himself win the heart of some stranger?

Jaskier bowed playfully and motioned to the bedroll. “Your chariot awaits to carry you off into Slumberland, sweet prince of the night,” he announced. He held a blanket in his hands, his boots and doublet set by his pack. With a flourish he rose and waited for Geralt expectantly.

Geralt obediently removed his boots and crawled onto the bedding. Best to sleep and let the moment be forgotten by morning, start over with another day. He turned on his back, waited for Jaskier to cover him with the blanket, to finish his joke and set up his own roll to sleep. Instead, he found Jaskier flopped at his side, his arm flung over his chest, and the blanket wrapped around the two of them snugly.

“Goodnight, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered. His breath puffed against Geralt’s neck as Jaskier cuddled closer, hooking an ankle over Geralt’s leg. He settled comfortably on Geralt’s shoulder and closed his eyes, the most contented smile on his face. Geralt could hear his heartbeat slow down, even and rhythmic, lulling.

After some time, Geralt thought he’d gone to sleep. He cautiously shifted, rolling on his side to face him. Jaskier had long eyelashes, he discovered. This close, Geralt could see a number of faint freckles on his cheeks, the subtle wrinkles about his eyes. He rarely allowed himself to look when they were together at night, but lately that had become a temptation hard to resist. He looked now while he might steal a private minute or two without fear. There was one little hair poking out from Jaskier’s nose and Geralt chuckled to know how bothered Jaskier would be when he noticed it eventually. He reached a tentative hand out, resting it on the loose fabric of Jaskier’s chemise where it lay on the roll, too cowardly to reach out and touch Jaskier in spite of the arm Jaskier had around him. That alone was enough. That already was daring.

Geralt slowly closed his eyes, trying to lock away the memory of the moment. He opened them again for one last look as the fire died down. Jaskier seemed to shine in the afterglow and Geralt closed his eyes again so that he might trap the afterimage in the dark. Then, Jaskier shifted and there was a warmth pressed to Geralt’s forehead. A kiss goodnight.

Was Jaskier awake, or was he in a dream? Geralt’s fingers curled in a fist around the hem of Jaskier’s shirt, desperately wondering. The question plagued him as he felt himself slip away. He shuddered, the inches between them a frozen tundra, all his doubts denying him the feel of Jaskier’s warm embrace even as it wrapped tighter around him. His last thought before being claimed by sleep was a silent wish. He wished that tomorrow the game would end. And more secretly, he wished it would be replaced with something real.

The courting continued more enthusiastically than before. Jaskier broke from the conservative spending habits Geralt had instilled in him over the years. He did not skip about buying frou-frou delights for himself or wasteful fashions. No. When he loosened his purse strings, it was to buy an extra plate for Geralt at dinner. It was to stock the spices Geralt liked best and the preserves he would never indulge in on his own. Geralt did his best to object, but relented upon Jaskier’s insistence that, “It’s a part of the courtship! You cannot deny me this privilege!” And because Jaskier would not be denied, he even found a twisted paper package of caramels hidden away in his bag among the empty potion bottles.

Jaskier continued to cuddle up with Geralt even as spring gave way to the heat of summer. Geralt thought that the game would surely be over by now, but there was no end in sight. Jaskier kept finding more and more ways to surprise Geralt, and it seemed his knowledge of courtship was far more lengthy than Geralt might have ever anticipated. That such an affair could hold Jaskier’s attention for so long was incomprehensible, and with nothing in return. Geralt could understand continuing their study if Jaskier were courting someone in earnest all the while, or having one of his romps for a weekend when they were travelling, but Jaskier had not so much as looked at anyone since … Geralt could not remember the last time Jaskier had flirted with anyone. That made it so much easier to believe. And that made it so much harder to withstand.

Months passed. Jaskier’s courtship fluctuated. He was mainly reserved in his affections and things were not much changed from before they’d begun. There may have been more lingering touches, but those had always been there, since the day they’d met. Likely it was only that Geralt was more aware of them, looking for any sign, grasping at straws for a hint of truth, denying it whenever he found one in an act of self-preservation.

Occasionally the grander gestures would return, and Jaskier counted these as special days. He justified their indulgence by using the situation as evidence; usually these occasions fell on holidays or anniversaries of which Geralt had been unaware, and if they should happen upon a festival or event unaware, Jaskier would sweep Geralt along for an improvised day of fun.

“As with any courtship, one ought to take any opportunities to enjoy oneself as one may find,” Jaskier said, always happy to remind Geralt that the courtship was ongoing, no matter how many months had passed, as if he could not tire of such proclamations. “And what could be more memorable than a day together where all the world is colorful, all the people laughing? It’s so much more fun when everyone is having fun! You can pretend that all the world is right and perfect for one day: no monsters to fight, no prejudices to contend with, and no disdainful destiny pulling at strings. Just a day chasing whatever shining thing catches your eye, unplanned, unbridled joy!”

And truly those were days where it felt like anything might happen. Jaskier shined so brightly, dragging Geralt from booth to booth. They played horseshoes, tried their hand at throwing hatches and other games and tests of skill. One favorite event they’d come upon was a sort of artist’s exhibition in Oxenfurt. Jaskier had been invited to give a lecture on his composition process and he’d insisted on Geralt coming along. After his lecture, which Geralt had listened to attentively from the back of the room, they’d gone through the university and explored the other lectures and demonstrations.

There were great works on display: tapestries and steam-powered inventions, fastidiously cultivated plants with clippings and pressed blooms for sale; a perfumer gave samples of scented paper and described how the brewing was done, and a much better kind of brewing was explained by an artisan ale brewer who offered them small mugs of her product while they listened. Jaskier attended a workshop on embroidery. Fascinated by the practice after so many years of wearing finely embroidered clothes, he wished to learn a bit of handiwork himself. Meanwhile, Geralt was especially interested to watch the smelter, blacksmith, and silversmith at work, privately comparing their methods of crafting swords with those he’d studied in the keep. It was by far one of the more memorable days of the season.

Jaskier bought Geralt a small scrap of decoratively twisted iron from the blacksmith to keep as a reminder. It wasn’t useful for much apart from keeping away faeries, but he bought a strip of cord from the lecturing tanner and fashioned a charm for him, tying it to the sheath of his silver sword. Once more, Geralt chided him for wasting money on useless things, but he found himself smiling at the charm whenever he sat to sharpen his swords. Later on, Geralt had nearly lost it on a hunt and had lingered later after the kill, searching the rocky terrain until he found it.

By fall, Geralt had nearly forgotten Jaskier was courting him at all. It had become their new normal. He let himself indulge in Jaskier’s attention, taking a page from his book. Once in a while Jaskier would make some comment about their courtship to someone in a tavern when asked why he would be travelling with a witcher, and Geralt would remember and the heavy feeling would settle over him again, but the days were too busy and bright, so he soon forgot again. It was difficult to be sad long with Jaskier’s arm looped in his.

When they weren’t travelling, that is to say, when they spent a day or two in town on a contract, Jaskier had taken to spending time alone. He would spend a few hours in their room, or he’d be somewhere in town, a bag always at his side. He practiced his embroidery, following the sample patch he’d stitched at the exhibition. Sometimes he displayed his work proudly when Geralt passed, and other times he was quick to hide it in his bag. Once, Geralt overheard news in a pub that Jaskier had been present at a quilting bee, then the gossiping party fell to whispers when they saw the witcher approach. This was during the time when Jaskier was more frequently away, acting secretive and sneaking about.

The reason behind these mysterious disappearances was shortly unveiled by the end of the month when Jaskier presented Geralt with a new winter cloak. He held it proudly stretched in his hands. It was a dark blue wool. The hood and collar were embroidered with white and yellow flowers, framed by a curling green ivy. There were two metal clasps sewn on either side, and a close look revealed them to be buttercups.

“I made it myself,” Jaskier said, glowing with pride. “Well, all but the clasps. But I did design them—think of it as the signature on a great painting!” Before Geralt could take a breath to compliment his work, Jaskier swung the cloak around Geralt’s shoulders, adjusting it handsomely. “Good, it’s not too narrow. I was a little worried, but I thought if it fit me it ought to fit you fine. Had to make sure it was wide enough in the shoulder, so I measured your armour for a good estimate. Do you like it?”

Geralt blinked. “It’s for me?” he asked.

“Of course it is. Why else would I have been so secretive? I wanted to surprise you!”

Jaskier turned away, kneeling down to pull something from beneath their bed. There was only one—had only been one for a long time now. When Jaskier emerged, he had a large box in his hands. “And now to complete the ensemble,” he said cheerfully. He shoved the box in Geralt’s hands looking up at him in anticipation.

Struggling to process the enormity of the gift, Geralt opened the box mechanically. Inside was a pair of new black leather boots with heavy tread. Upon further inspection, he discovered they were lined with rabbit fur inside the cuff.

“There. Now you’ll be ready for the journey home this winter,” Jaskier declared. Then, just a twitch, there was something reserved in his expression—something that suggested gloom. He smiled through it and straightened Geralt’s hood, making it symmetrical. His hands remained a moment, poised on Geralt’s shoulders. He seemed hesitant. There he stood, looking up at Geralt, and he appeared to be holding his breath, waiting for something.

“Thank you,” Geralt said at last. He shook his head. “No, I … it’s more than that.” It was too much; he didn’t know how to express his gratitude.

Jaskier’s hands fell and he looked at the shining clasps, avoiding Geralt’s eyes. “Yes, well. You’re welcome to it,” he said.

“I’m not sure how I ought to thank you,” Geralt continued. It occurred to him that he could ask. That was the purpose of all of this: to educate him on courtship. Every good pupil asked questions. So he did ask. “How does one usually show their appreciation after receiving a courting gift? Should I reciprocate?”

Whatever cloud passed over Jaskier’s features faded and was replaced by a small smile. “Custom dictates that you should complement the handicraft and dress yourself immediately that I might admire you bedecked in my gifts,” he answered. “Go on then! On with the boots! And if you’re feeling especially gratified, you may accompany me to dinner and allow me to show you off in all your glory.”

Geralt snorted. “Long-winded way to say you’re hungry and broke.”

“Put on the boots, you ass; I’m paying for dinner.”

As soon as Geralt had his new boots on—and oh, how comfortable they were!—Jaskier twirled his finger in the air, made him turn and model. Geralt rolled his eyes but turned around graciously. Jaskier beamed and showered him with praise. He slipped on his own cloak, for it was a cold evening, and they left the little inn, headed toward the delicious smell of the pub and their dinner, following the welcoming glow of its windows down the cobbled street.

“Wait!” Jaskier cried, leaping in front of Geralt. He spread his arms wide and Geralt nearly crashed against his back. Geralt looked over his shoulder to see what danger caused Jaskier to halt in the middle of the road, only for Jaskier to sweep the warm cloak from his shoulders and drape it across a rather nasty, muddy puddle before them.

Geralt’s eyes went wide. It was a new cloak—Jaskier had bought it only a fortnight past. He’d carefully selected a cool green, saying it would remind him of spring when the winter made the world grey, and Geralt had seen him embroidering the collar of it in the evenings before bed. Jaskier had doted on it, and Geralt had never known Jaskier to wear a cloak. Ever. He was never on the road when the weather was cold enough to warrant one, always holing up in Oxenfurt or carving himself out a space in some court for the season. He’d taken such pride in the cloak, adding his own personal touches to it, making it quite his. He talked about it constantly, boasting that it would keep him thoroughly safe when the winter chill set in, that he might climb the most icy, terrible mountain and feel as though he were snuggled up by the fireside.

That was the straw to break his back at last.

“What are you doing? That will never wash out,” Geralt scolded.

Jaskier bowed dramatically and rose with a charming shrug. “What burden is a bit of mud, my dear? I’ll not have your new boots so soon sullied on their first venture. If I allowed that, what kind of suitor would I be?” He chuckled and pressed a chaste, teasing kiss to Geralt’s cheek.

Geralt flinched away, heart leaping into his throat. “You’ve taken this too far!” he cried.

“Geralt, I assure you, the fabric is perfectly sensible and there’ll be no stain. I specifically chose it for wearing on the road.” He looked at Geralt, picking at the end of the cloak still draped in his hands. He kept his tone teasing and light, but there was a nervous edge to it he tried to hide behind a laugh. “Come now,” he said, “don’t let my gesture go in vain; I was trying so very hard to be suave.”

“No. It’s not just the cloak,” Geralt hissed. “This whole charade! I—!” Geralt fisted his hands in the thick fabric of his cloak. He turned his head away, grit his teeth. “I’m calling it off, Jaskier. I can’t tolerate one more day of this game.”

“What game?” Jaskier asked. The false cheer left him. Honest worry furrowed his brow as he lifted the wet cloak once more from the puddle, clutching it as a child might cling to a blanket.

“This courtship. It has to stop.”

Jaskier turned pale. He trembled, though no breeze swept through the air. When he spoke, his voice trembled in kind, and he looked at Geralt with anxious eyes. “If this is about the winter,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry for being pushy. You’re not ready—I can wait. But we can move slower if that’s the issue, and I can give you your space until spring, just like every year.” His hands twisted in the cloak and he held it closer to his chest. “But I thought you wanted … you agreed to the courtship. And we were headed east together. It’s coming on winter, so I thought … And you’re not one for words …” he trailed. “I don’t understand what’s changed. Just this morning we—”

“This morning, you didn’t kiss me!” Geralt snapped. “I can hold your hand, I can dance with you and listen to your pet names, I can accept your gifts and gestures in an effort to understand your customs. I know you want to teach me about courtship. It’s important to you—or entertaining. But I can’t abide being kissed! Not as part of some lesson.”

Geralt’s eyes felt hot and there was a strange hollow in the pit of his stomach. “Not if it doesn’t mean anything,” he concluded. He couldn’t look Jaskier in the eye for fear of the understanding he’d find there. What pity or disgust would he see when the realization hit? What horrible expression would he find twisting Jaskier’s expression when he finally understood that his best friend, an emotionless, beastly, taciturn witcher, was in love with him?

“Oh,” Jaskier whispered.

There it was. Geralt’s head hung low. He silently braced himself. This was the part where Jaskier would let him down gently. Or he might make an awkward joke and pretend he didn’t understand, brushing it all aside and moving on as always. Geralt wasn’t sure which would be worse. He wished Jaskier would simply leave and he wouldn’t have to suffer either one.

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered. Geralt heard the splash as Jaskier dropped his cloak once more to the ground. And suddenly there were warm hands cradling his face. “My darling,” Jaskier said, “let me be perfectly clear. No, no, don’t look away—you’ve got to look at me and listen very carefully to what I say. This isn’t a game. I’m not playing at romance with you. I’m not trying to teach you anything either. No games, no jokes, no tricks.”

Jaskier pulled Geralt closer, forced him to meet his eyes. Geralt looked at last and saw nothing but raw sincerity staring back. “This is real,” Jaskier said. “All of it. Since that day I stood and swore to court you and win your heart. Every action and effort I made was in earnest.”

Geralt felt the grounding touch of Jaskier’s thumb stroking his cheek. His heart remained in his throat, still uncertain, but it beat with a fragile hope. “What does it mean then?” he asked.

Jaskier sighed, resting their foreheads together. “It means I love you,” he answered.

Geralt closed his eyes. He felt such a fool. Slowly, he brought his hands up to cover Jaskier’s, pressing them more firmly against his skin. The touch felt new. It had a weight to it now, and he felt lighter than ever before, needed their anchor to keep from drifting away.

Jaskier loved him.

“How does a happy courtship end?” Geralt asked, though he did not wish for it to end so soon, now that he’d learned it was real. He was inclined to start over again and do it properly, no shadows or clouds to hang over them.

Jaskier let out a last nervous breath and smiled. “With marriage,” he said. “Eventually. But I think that may be a bit too soon for us.”

“Then before that.”

“Generally, the first stage ends with a kiss. I think that’s about right for where we are.”

“And … will you kiss me?” Geralt asked, opening his eyes again. He looked into Jaskier’s deep blue irises, and for once he could examine them as much as he liked, he realized. So he stared, taking in every brown freckle, every fleck of gold however small, looking as he never allowed himself to before. With satisfaction, he watched Jaskier’s pupils widen. He was sure he looked much the same.

Jaskier chuckled, pulling Geralt’s hands down and cradling them in his own. “Me?” he asked playfully. “Oh no, my dear; I did the wooing. The stage ends when you take the reciprocating action and encourage me to continue. Therefore it is you who must kiss me. If you like.”

“And if I do?”

“Then by all means,” Jaskier prompted. “Kiss me!”

Geralt tilted his head to the side, no more hesitation, and pressed their lips together in a gentle embrace. Just one short, reverent kiss: the fruition of his longing. It was not studied—was even a bit skewed from lack of practice. But it was freeing. He leaned back again as they parted, and he felt Jaskier leaning forward after him. Geralt smiled, his heart fluttering with a joy he never thought he’d know. This felt right. Felt wonderful. And now the tension was gone and he had nothing left to fear with Jaskier’s hands so tightly clasping his.

“So. What comes in the next stage of courtship?”

“Another kiss, certainly,” Jaskier said, stepping forward in an attempt to close the distance.

Geralt stepped back, a cheeky smile rising to his lips. “I’m fresh out,” he teased.

“Goodness me!” Jaskier gasped theatrically, and he was grinning right back. “Thankfully, I have one spare! Many, in fact, if you’d like them.”

“I would.”

“But, ah! I’m not so cheap as that!” Jaskier cried in retribution. If Geralt would refuse him another kiss, Jaskier would make him earn the next. “I must be wooed first, Geralt of Rivia. It’s your turn, I did say, and I’ll have you know I expect a great deal after all the work I put in. Rides on Roach, dinners cooked for me, breakfasts, embarrassingly poor poetry; then there’s the matter of you holding my hand when I ask, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me to bed in the evening, fresh flowers, foot massages, the—”

Geralt stepped forward again and silenced Jaskier’s rambling with another kiss, smiling through it too hard to make good on the act. He laughed, tucking his face against Jaskier’s jaw as he tried to compose himself long enough to see it through, then he was kissing Jaskier’s jaw and cheek, his eyes, everything within reach as the giddy feeling rose from his chest, laughing all the while as though he would never stop.

Jaskier laughed and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s shoulders. “Yes, and as many of those as you can afford,” he chuckled. “You were holding out on me, you old tight-purse.”

Geralt pulled away enough to look Jaskier in the eye. “If I promise to woo you later, would you please just shut up and kiss me now?” he asked.

Jaskier huffed and regarded Geralt with sarcastic affection. “Someone has got to teach you about romance,” he said.

#witcher #the witcher #witcher fic #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #my fic #a bard he would a-wooing go fic #gift fic #gotta love some mutual dumbassery

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all-seeing-ifer · 4 years

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Greek mythology references in Ulysses Dies at Dawn masterpost

I saw a post a while back by @spacetrashpile analysing all the arthurian references in High Noon Over Camelot, and since I know quite a bit about Greek mythology I figured “hey! I should do something like that for Ulysses Dies at Dawn!” I’m just going to go through each of the songs in order and analyse/explain the references in them - hopefully other people will find it interesting!

“The City”

Starting with the title - Ulysses is the Latin name of Odysseus, legendary king of Ithaca and hero of the epic poem The Odyssey. Interestingly, Ulysses is the only character in UDAD who is given a Latin name instead of a Greek one. There’s a couple of potential reasons for this but the most convincing to me is it’s meant to reflect Ulysses’ opposition to the Olympians, who are all based on the Greek gods.

Jonny calls the story a “labyrinthine task of a twisted tale”, referencing the Greek myth of the Minotaur, which was kept in a labyrinth to hide it from the world. This reference becomes even clearer when we later learn the City’s original name.

This one’s less a reference to Greek mythology and more to like, actual history, but the description of the City expanding to cover the whole planet is reminiscent of Greek expansion in ancient times. Ancient Greece was made up of many city-states, or poleis, which established colonies or “daughter-cities”, mostly in western Asia, or “Asia Minor” as the Greeks and Romans called it.

The story opens at a “run-down gin join” called Calypso’s - Calypso is a sea nymph who plays a fairly major role in The Odyssey, keeping Odysseus/Ulysses trapped on her island for seven years.

Fittingly enough, Calypso’s apparently pays money to Dionysus, whose mythological namesake is the Greek god of wine.

Broken Horses

Ilium is the Ancient Greek name for Troy, the city that Greece went to war against, according to myth,. Part of this war is described in the epic poem The Iliad, in which Odysseus is one of the soldiers laying siege to Troy.

Much like the Trojan War of Greek myth, the siege of Ilium is said to have lasted a decade.

Ulysses’ gambit with the horse statue sending out a signal driving the people of Ilium mad is pretty obviously a reference to the Trojan Horse - the wooden horse the Greeks built as a “peace offering” to the Trojans that they used to sneak their soldiers into the City and that brought them victory in the war. Like in the UDAD version, Odysseus/Ulysses was apparently responsible for coming up with this plan.

“Olympians”

Ulysses’ wife is named Penelope, same as Odysseus’ wife in the myths

The Acheron is the name of one of the five rivers of Hades, along with Styx, Cocytus, Lethe, and Phlegethon

As a sidenote, in Greek mythology Hades is the name of the underworld as well as the name of the God of the dead - fittingly enough reimagined in UDAD as the controller of a vast network of half-dead minds (and also Ashes)

The most powerful families in the City are called the Olympians - the name given to the twelve most important deities in the Greek pantheon

Poseidon Industries is named for Poseidon, Greek god of the sea and one of the twelve Olympians. Jonny calls them “one of the architects of the Ilium War”, which seems like an odd reference since iirc Poseidon doesn’t have a whole lot to do with the Trojan War. I guess that’s just there to give Ulysses a reason to want to rob Poseidon Industries.

In the Odyssey, Poseidon hates Odysseus/Ulysses for attacking his son, a cyclops called Polyphemus. In UDAD this is changed to Ulysses stealing the diamond from Poseidon Industries’ laser, which is also called The Cyclops.

My Name is No One

The song’s title and chorus is a reference to Odysseus’ famous trick for escaping the Polyphemus’ cave. He tells the Polyphemus his name is “no one/nobody” (depending on the translation) so that when he attacks Polyphemus and the cyclops tries to call for help, he calls out “No one is attacking me” which obviously none of the other cyclopes take seriously. (There’s also a great pun in the original Greek based on the Greek words for “no one” and “cunning” being very similar, but it loses a lot in translation)

However, just like in UDAD, Odysseus messes up this plan badly by calling out his real name when he’s still too close to the island of the cyclops. (although in the Odyssey it’s motivated by him wanting Polyphemus to know his name so he can get glory, rather than just being drunk)

Odysseus bests the cyclops by taking out his eye (there’s debate around it but cyclopes are generally depicted as having only one eye). Obviously in UDAD the cyclops is a machine not a monster, so this is replaced with the diamond at the heart of the laser being called its “eye”.

Also, I’m not sure if this is an intentional reference, but there is a fun irony to the fact that in the Odyssey, Odysseus tricks Polyphemus by getting him drunk so he can then blind him, while in UDAD Ulysses steals the eye of the Cyclops while drunk themself.

“Trial By Wits”

As well as My Name is No One, the whole concept of no one knowing anything about Ulysses’ appearance, gender etc. could also be seen as a reference to the “My name is nobody” trick, or possibly just a spin on Odysseus being a kind of “archetypal hero” - they could be anyone!

Heracles is better known by his Latin name, Hercules (son of Zeus, demigod, inhumanly strong and all that jazz)!

Ariadne is the name of the Cretan princess who helped Theseus slay the minotaur

Orpheus is another of the most well-known Greek mythological figures - the main myth surrounding him says he went into the underworld to rescue his dead wife Eurydice

Oedipus is most famous as the main character of a famous tragedy. His parents are given a prophecy that he would kill his father and have sex with his mother, and so decided to abandon him. As is so often the case with Greek oracles, he ended up doing both things anyway, seeing as how he, y’know, didn’t know who his parents were. The mechs apparently chose to reference this in the most mature of ways by having Jonny call Oedipus a motherfucker. Kind of a lot.

Aside from committing both patricide and incest, Oedipus’ other achievements in myth included winning a battle of wits against the Sphinx, a monster that was killing anyone who couldn’t solve its riddle. This monster is reimagined in UDAD as a disease that Oedipus finds a cure for.

Riddle of the Sphinx

The chorus of the song is taken almost word-for-word from the riddle asked of Oedipus by the Sphinx: “What goes on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?” The answer to the riddle is “man” - crawls on all fours as a baby, walks on two legs as an adult, and walks with a cane (third leg) in old age. The Mechs being the Mechs, this is made completely literal in the world of UDAD.

“Ulysses’ Will”

Like the Oedipus of myth, UDAD Oedipus also ends up killing his father and marrying his mother without knowing. Since he’s replaced his eyes with data sockets by the time he helps kidnap Ulysses, it’s pretty strongly implied that he blinded himself like mythological Oedipus as well.

The “twenty years of sirens” could be a reference to the twenty years Odysseus spends away from Ithaca in the Iliad and Odyssey

Sirens

The sirens were half-bird half-human creatures that Odysseus encountered as part of the Odyssey and that tried to lure him to his death with promises of knowledge.

As well as referencing this story, the line “let the lotus set you free” references another episode of the Odyssey, where Odysseus and his crew arrive on the island of the Lotus-Eaters. Anyone who eats the Lotus fruits falls into a state of apathy and will never want to leave the island, so it’s a fitting episode to reference in a song about Ulysses drugging themself to escape their memories of war.

“Trial By Strength”

Heracles’ backstory is essentially the same in UDAD as in the original myths: one of the many children of Zeus’ many affairs, except in UDAD Zeus has affairs with women from “the lower levels”, instead of just mortal women.

Favoured Son

The tasks Heracles performs for Zeus are a reference to the most famous myth about Heracles - the twelve labours he performs to atone for killing his family.

The song references “the ferryman” who takes people into the Underworld. In Greek mythology the dead travel to the Underworld in a boat rowed by the ferryman Charon.

In both the myth and in UDAD there are...what you might you might call “extenuating circumstances” for Heracles killing his family - in the myth he’s driven mad by Zeus’ wife Hera (bc she’s very angy about Zeus having all those bastard children with mortal women) but since Hera doesn’t play a role in UDAD this is changed to him being framed by Zeus himself.

In addition to being king of the gods, Zeus is also the god of thunder - which is where Heracles’ nickname “The Thunderbolt of Zeus” comes from

“Loose Threads”

Heracles and Orpheus “Backing up Jason on the fleece job” is a reference to the myth of Jason’s quest for the Golden Fleece along with his crew (the Argonauts), which included Heracles and Orpheus.

Hylas was Heracles’ servant and another member of the Argonauts. While on the quest he was kidnapped by nymphs, and depending on which version of the myth you’re looking at, either fell in love with them and stayed there forever, or was murdered by them (Hylas is also the only character referenced I had to google to even know who they were lol)

Heracles telling Ariadne that “Your dad helped me out once” is presumably a reference to the seventh labour of Heracles: capturing the Cretan bull. Now the story of the Cretan bull is actually really long and ties into a bunch of other myths but essentially it was sent to Ariadne’s father, King Minos, as proof that he was the rightful ruler of Crete. However, Minos ended up helping Heracles by letting him take the bull with him to prove that he’d successfully caught it (which seeing as the bull was destroying Crete at that point doesn’t seem like a huge favour on Minos’ part, but ok)

Trial By Song

UDAD Orpheus shares the mythical Orpheus’ main defining trait: his skill at singing that he used to help him on his journey to the underworld.

Trial By Song is a lot more metaphorical than all the others so there’s not that many direct references to the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice in the lyrics - probably the most direct one is “But all the landmarks moved as I walked past/Now I can’t look back”, which references Orpheus’ deal with Hades that he can take Eurydice back to the world of the living as long as he doesn’t look back at her.

“The viper town that bled me dry” could also be a reference to Eurydice’s death from a snake bite.

“Hades”

UDAD Orpheus’ motivation is the same as mythical Orpheus - wanting to bring back their dead lover from Hades.

Ulysses, Heracles, and Orpheus all visiting the “underworld” is taken directly from mythology (although unlike in UDAD, Ulysses/Odysseus never actually speaks to Hades).

Underworld Blues

In Heracles’ confrontation with Hades, he says that “I was sent here your dog to seize/Of my tasks, of my tasks/This was to be the last”. There’s a couple of points here - the mythology reference is to the last of the twelve labours of Hercules: capturing Hades’ guard dog Cerberus. However, I do wonder whether this is meant to be literal (in which case guys, why are we not talking about the fact that Ashes obtained a pet dog while in The City?), or if this is a similar case to all the mentions of ‘horses’ in High Noon Over Camelot actually being about motorbikes.

Orpheus singing to Hades and trying to convince them to release Eurydice is also taken directly from Greek myth, except instead of being moved by Orpheus’ song and agreeing to release his love like in the myth, Ashes just tells him he’s poor for a bit and then says he should go commit some crimes.

“Trial By Love”:

The general concept of Ariadne’s backstory - her helping Theseus fight the minotaur only for him to abandon her - is the same basic idea as the myth of Ariadne and Theseus. Although UDAD Ariadne is at least a bit more fortunate in the sense that she wasn’t truly in love with her Theseus, and he also doesn’t straight up leave her on a deserted island.

Ariadne’s family creating the minotaur is also part of her character in the myth. The difference is that in UDAD the minotaur was created intentionally, while the mythological minotaur was the result of Poseidon making Ariadne’s mother fall in love with the Cretan Bull as punishment for King Minos not sacrificing it to him (I said the Cretan Bull story tied into a bunch of other myths!)

The presence of the minotaur in the City is yet another thing that makes even more sense when we learn about the City originally being called Labyrinth!

Ties That Bind

Ariadne’s family name is Minos, same as the name of her mythical father King Minos.

Ariadne describes her family’s actions as casting a “dark horned shadow” over her, which references the typical depiction of the minotaur as a man with a bull’s head and horns.

In the myth of the Minotaur, Ariadne helps Theseus by giving him a ball of string that he then unwinds as he walks through the Labyrinth, letting him find his way out again. In UDAD this is changed to “strings of code”, that shut down the minotaurs programming. (And if you think that pun’s bad, just wait until we get to Torn Suits!)

The song’s title also brings to mind string or thread, so it can be seen as a subtler reference to Ariadne’s gift to Theseus. Same for Ariadne’s line about “heartstrings long since cut”.

“The Daidala”

Daedalus, the leader of the Suits, shares a name with the mythical craftsman and father of Icarus

He is rumoured to “trade as an Olympian under the name Hephaestus” - a fitting alias as Hephaestus was the god of craftsmen and artisans like Daedalus

The rumour that he killed his son for “getting too ambitious” references the myth of Icarus, who famously died after literally flying too close to the sun using wings held together with wax. The heat of the sun caused the wax to melt and Icarus to fall into the sea. The story is often interpreted as a warning about the dangers of ambition.

Interestingly, it could also reference another myth surrounding Daedalus - one in which Daedalus kills his nephew Talos because he was jealous of his achievements.

Daedalus is also apparently the architect of The City, which was originally known as Labyrinth. This once again references the labyrinth which held the minotaur, and which Minos forced Daedalus to design. Considering the labyrinth’s purpose in myth, it seems like an appropriate name for a city that keeps all its inhabitants trapped with no way out.

Presumably the Daidala in the title refers to the City: Daedalus’ finest creation. In Homeric Greek, daidala is a word that refers to finely crafted objects such as armour.

This track also has another reference to the Orpheus and Eurydice myth when Orpehus offers to sacrifice himself to open the vault - “But he can’t see it through can he? Flinches, looks back. And it doesn’t work.”

Torn Suits

This song is notable for having quite possibly the worst pun in Mechanisms history - “Ulysses pulls out their snub-nosed laser and fires the last shot, splitting the beam across twelve axes”. This references one of the climactic scenes of the Odyssey, where Ulysses/Odysseus wins an archery competition against his wife’s suitors by shooting an arrow through twelve axe heads. (get it, axes as in the weapons becomes axes as in the plural of axis do you get it?????)

Another, marginally less bad pun is Heracles getting “the lion’s share” of the beams, referencing the popular image of Heracles wearing the skin of a lion he killed as one of his labours.

“Sunrise”

The code to Ulysses’ vault: Elysium, is another word for the Elysian Fields. In certain Greek religions, this was an afterlife separate from Hades’ world where heroes and those chosen by the gods would go after they died.

Ulysses’ vault is revealed to contain the “sole surviving oak tree”, under which Penelope is buried. While it’s not as direct a reference as some of the others, this is pretty clearly inspired by the way Odysseus proves his true identity to Penelope at the end of the Odyssey - by telling her that he carved their bed from a tree still rooted to the ground, something only the two of them know.

The track ends with an homage to Homer’s use of similes in the Odyssey: “And as the weary hound, once more at its master’s feet after so long, lays down with the sunlight warming its fur, breathing its last – even so did the eyes of Ulysses close forever.” Not only is this stylistically identical to Homer’s similes, it also doubles as a reference to Odysseus’ dog Argos, who waited for him for twenty years and finally died when he saw Odysseus again.

Elysian Fields

This is possibly a bit of a stretch but the image of Ulysses lying beneath the last tree, next to where Penelope is buried, especially with how they say they’re “with my beloved” and “beside my wife” really brings to mind the scene in the Odyssey where Odysseus and Penelope lie in their tree-bed together for the first time since Odysseus’ return. Which, incidentally, is theorised by some to be the “real” final scene of the Odyssey and everything after that was added on later, but that’s another story.

That’s everything I’ve picked up on but it’s possible there’s more I’ve missed so let me know if there’s any more! I’d like to thank the Mechs for giving me an opportunity to put my useless and extremely niche knowledge to good use!

#the mechanisms #ulysses dies at dawn #udad #ifer rambles

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Ducktales Della Arc Reviews: The Spear of Selene or THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES, GOD OF HOMEROTIC SUBTEXT OUT OF MYTH!

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to my coverage of the Della arc! It’s our last 2017 episode before the Finale, and it’s a huge one as we delve into a fan faviorite that introduces a pair of fan faviorites, a drum of tzatkiki sauce worth of gay, an asshole so odious getting sent to the bowls of hades and laughed at for all enternity after being cast out by eveyrone he knows really was getting off light, and at last some plot progression on this arc. At the time it aired mind you at this point Dellas been a beloved cast member for three years, and we’ve known what happened to her for longer than that.

At the time though.. it’d been 8 MONTHS since the Great Dime Chase. Let that sink in. The Della reveal was the biggest hook of an already exceptional pilot: It not only promised to flesh out a character who’d had all of one story in the comics at this point in present day, but solve the mystery of why she was gone. Not only that but Scrooge and Donald’s feud clearly stemmed from this exact moment. And the first full episode in the arc confirmed it: Della had taken whatever “The Spear of Selene” was and apologized to Scrooge for it. So why had she taken it, why did Donald blame scrooge, why did Scrooge not blame himself, at least outwardly, where was she, what was the spear of selene...

As I pointed out last time airing order didn’t help and due to airing the arc episodes really close together, gave the impression the arc would not only move fast but take up more of the season than it did. In practice both arcs take up a fourth of the season not including the finale, which would take both up to about a third. The expectation on how much of the season would be taken up by the arc.. was on Disney for airing things badly. I will give credit where it’s do as they moved this episode up in the order to try and make up for it (and give themselves a huge mid season opener).. but then for some reason shoved the last episode before last crash, ie. the only one they coudln’t move, way back to right before that episode. “ Here’s an actual photo of the person who made this decision

As I said they did get better next season with only a few swaps and only for good reason. So props.

HOWEVER.... this episode still has some flaws with pacing and revealing info, with or without Disney drunk driving the schedule. The wait between episodes in this plot is an episode LONGER in production order... and dosen’t move the plot forward by much. I will get to that when the time comes.. and that DESPITE this treatment of the fans.. this episode is still one of the seasons best. How are both things true? Join me under the cut to find out.

Thunderstormy to be precise and the Sunchaser is natrually encountering loads of turbulence with Launchpad barely holding int here while Donald’s buffeted around the back. Why Donald’s with them...

But it’’s one of his only five starring episodes in the season, out of 9 appearances total the rest of which are cameos. Yeah now seems as good as time as any to talk about Season 1′s Donald Duck problem.

See Donald was promoted as a major part of the series, rightly so since he was reduced to a guest star for the 87 series due to a combination of Disney not wanting to overexpose the characters, people possibly not being able to understand his voice and thus making plots hard to understand, and Tony Anselmo being new to the roll at the time. So the reboot went all out promoting the fact Donald would be in it, front and center and gave him TWO character shorts to the rest of the casts one. Disney really went out of their way to show he’d be in there so as a certified Donald Fanatic, I was sure he’d actually be in the show a lot and on the adventures a lot. The crew were not blameless as both promotional arts featured him. Launchpad and Beakly conversely were asbent, so the impression given by all of this was that Donald would be central to the series and in a lot of episodes, given equal focus to scrooge and the kids.

This.. didn’t happen as you all know. Instead as stated he’s up front and center for 5 episodes, and makes cameos in others, but generally is hardly around. Now there is KINDA an excuse to this as he doesn’t want to adventure, be in the mansion or any of that.. but it’s a REALLY weak one. He still at least could’ve made more cameos, the fact he was working on the boat all that time isn’t made clear till last crash, and his two spotlight episodes both have him dragged along on the adventure anyway, so it’s not like his not wanting to be there meant he woudln’t be forced to join in anyway. There were ways to include him, still have him in a supporting role instead of leaving him back at the mansion.. and even the second episode proved there was still comedy to be mliked from that.. and pathos don’t forget the pathos. So yeah this was easily the biggest mistake of the season and one season 2 largely corrected: He got four dedicated plots, and was around a decent amount in the first half of the season and while he DID get shot up to the moon... it was for valid reasons. They wanted to focus on Della and the kids, give her room to breathe as a brand new major addition to the show, and thus him being around and the elephant in the room of his and scrooge’s feud that was never dealt with on screen, would’ve distracted from that. And even with that they still gave him a focus episode that somehow added more depth and MASSIVELY advanced the main plot, and a sizeable roll in the finale. Season 3 likewise had things better: while he shows up as much as in season 1, the episode count is lower by one, and he’s a major part of the plot in every one BUT Last Christmas, with four of those having the spotlight on him in some way. They eventually did figure out how to use him far more ballanced. So yeah credit where it’s do it got MUCH better, but he still felt like a recurring character in his own series, that was still bad, and I still needed to give out about it.

But Webby and Dewey have a mission even if Dewey dosen’t quite get what’s going on so they flip a switch to turn on a warning light of some kind forcing Launchpad to make an emergency landing on a gorgeous tropical island. To Huey’s amazement, as the place was apparenlty only a myth, though naturally the guidebook did have it’s aproximate location listed... Ithaquack, home of the gods. Naturally Scrooge and Donald want to leave as soon as possible for reasons we’ll get into but Launchpad , for once is being a responsible pilot “Better safe than.. something right? Scrooge is of course irate that Launchpad picked NOW of all times to be safe, and the Kids.. don’t listen because Huey sees a beautiful realm of myth, Louie sees a beach vacation and Dewey and Webby.. have work to do. Webby eventually fills Dewey in on why their here, having wrongly assumed he got why they were going to a mythical greek island. As Dewey delightfully puts it later “Don’t assume I know anything. “ So she pieces it together for him: Selene was the greek goddess of the moon... Della took the SPEAR of Selene. Ergo this island is the best place to find the Spear and failing that, Selene herself to get more info on it and Della.

So we have our two plots. Scrooge and Donald dealing with their pasts and the gods, and Dewey and Webby diving into his mom’s past. And unlike the last review where a genuinely unsettling story about an abuse victim forced to manipulate her girlfriend not going into a murder vault was paired with Louie having to deal with a Sasquatch while Huey catches a case of Dewey’s stupidity somehow, these two plots are perfectly paired: Their both perfectly thematically connected, both dealing with the past, Della’s absence and Scrooge and the Twins past encounters with the gods.. but both being self contained outside of that, entirely unconnected but stilll necessary to be in the same episode. THIS is how you do two plots. But since they don’t really synch up again till the end, let’s cover each one at a time shall we?

“What if My Mom was a Bad Person?”

The plot is pretty straight forward but expertly done: Dewey and Webby first check your standard Zelda dungeon which apparently has a cursed weapon at the end. We also get an utterly adorable and sweet shot of Webby comforting Dewey after he’s clearly shook from it. Awwww. Turns out it’s the SWORD of Selene. and quickly turns into a game of put the Cursed Sword back before we all die.

Next up is a monster who nearly kills both protecting it’s spear.. the spear of POSIDEN. (Look at meeeeee). And since they aren’t going to be on a boat that isn’t a house boat anytime soon, they don’t need that and the monster cheerfully redirects them, with Dewey apologizing for calling it ugly.

So all pretty standard stuff for the show and really good stuff.. but it’s the building tension underneath that truly makes the episode and leads to one hell of a climax for this plot. All the while Dewey is DESPERATE for some explination for his mom’s disapperance that isn’t her betraying Scrooge, maybe returning the spear because it was cursed or getting eaten by a monster. Just ANYTHING but the mounting and horrifying suspicion.. that his mom was a bad person who destroyed her family and betrayed her uncle and laughed all the while. Webby.. does not help, backing that side of things and constantly voicing hte idea Della betrayed Scrooge, so obsessed with solving the mystery of her life.. but so unfamilliar with people she dosen’t see the very real toll this is taking on her best friend. To her she’s just making a logical counterpoint.. to him it’s just another idea in his head about the way his mom could’ve betrayed everyone she cared about.

So that climax is where it explodes. Our heroes find a scale model of ithaquack (Complete with Tiny Maniticore! It’s so cute Webby just wants to slay it) and an opening.. with an ominous message about incurring the wrath of the god seemingly conforming the worst. So Webby prepares to find out the whole story.. only for Dewey to stop her. No one’s finding this out, whatever it is, no matter how far they’ve come. And given this is the biggest mystery of her life and she simply dosen’t understand WHY Dewey dosen’t want to know.. both sides are ready to fight for this. And Webby DOES try to back him down, pointing out he really can’t beat her in a fight. But Dewey’s already grown leaps and bounds form the pilot and is working smarter not harder. Beat Webby, who spent a good chunk of her life being honed into the most badass child on the parent, one who can take on several of scrooge’s worst foes one on one? Not on his life. But hold her off long enough for the gate to close? He can do that.

So the result? One of the best fights of the series... and given the sheer amount of great ones we’ve gottten since this one it still says something it holds up THIS well. It’s an even, furiously paced fight, with Dewey using every advantage he has including tossing said manticore to keep up, but not slowing down one bit. It’s heartbreaking to see the two come to this but it’s an delight to watch. Webby DOES win eventually, though time’s running out to get in and she finally asks WHY. And while the stakes have been crystal clear for both this whole time.. we get them laid out in the most painful way for both.

Webby: We're so close to the truth! Why won't you let us find it?! Dewey: Because...*his voice cracks* what if my mom was a bad person?

It hits VERY hard. For Webby this has been a puzzle something to solve the greatest achivment of her life, her chance to make her mark... and her best friend just wanted to abandon it. But in one swift response, he disarms all of that.. and makes her see how insnstivie she’s been: He may not know his mom.. but he can’t bear the thought she was a bad person. That she left or WORSE, because she didn’t care about him, or scrooge or ANYONE. Knowing nothing is better than knowing she was a monster.

Webby realizes what she’s been doing to her friend and is horrified and offers to back out. The answers.. aren’t worth destroying her brother. But her willingness to back down.. finally gets Dewey to see the light. His fear was valid.. but at the end of the day, it’d never go away. it’d just keep eating him for the rest of his life, every time she was mentioned or he found something else out he’d just wonder if it was a lie and wonder wht he COULD’VE learned this day. And if Webby’s willing to sacrifice THIS MUCH to give him peace of mind... then he can sacrifice that peace of mind for the truth, for her, and for himself. So he pulls them inside.

Inside they find Selene who suprises them.. and is then confused. Their not della. Also I guarantee mentally she’s thiking “Thank me I didn’t do it naked this time. “. After some confusion as to who this is, Webby explains that IS Selene, and Dewey begs for answers about the spear... only to find out she dosen’t have one. Nope. The sword seen before and a SPHERE, yes.. but no Spear. So the poor boy breaks down, back to square one. It’s hard not to see why... all this effort, all of this sacrifice.. and he’s no closer than when they first set down.

Selene does help though... giving him an idea of who his mom WAS: one of her closest friends (And let’s face it Della named the ship after Selene and Selene casually uses Della’s shower. If they didn’t go out at least once, I am an outer god. And I very much am not and they very much banged hard. Goodnight. ) , a good person who brought fun to everyone, and loved her family more than anything. Wether she betrayed Scrooge or not, she wasn’t a bad person. And her own orb shows it showing Della in her prime, brightly smiling next ot her family. Selene encourages the boy not to give up, that his mom always loved a mystery.. and he can solve this one and gently hugs the sobbing child.. with Dewey quickly pulling webby in. It’s genuinely touching and a satisfying ISH ending.

The ish... is because while this is a VERY good plot, i’ll gush more about it at the end, it does have one supreme flaw: the mystery dosen’t progress. And with the huge gaps between this episode and hte next one, in BOTH airing orders... it’s unforgivable to not have EITHER plot give us any hints about what happened. I don’t ask for much, but they could’ve found a clue in the sphere Dewey got, or saw a memory of her that brought up the next place they look, just something a little. While it’s still a very fine story, the main plot suffers a bit by having one of the ONLY three episodes delving into the della mystery before it’s fully revealed in sunchaaser have almost no progress. Della was probably a good person, which comes from her ex who clearly still loves her so that’s not really reliable, and the spear isn’t literal. While the lack of progress works for the story in the episode itself.. it comes at the cost of any actual plot progression. We end up exactly where we started and have to wait SOME TIME before we get to the next spot on the tour. Well we did, you guys will find out Monday or Tuesday depending on if the finale goes up in the morning or Disney holds it till the actual airing. Please don’t you bastards. Point is it’s VERY good plot, but it’s hampred by not really progressing the arc.

The arc progression for this storyline is painfully slow, and tha’ts not on disney. In either order there’s a MASSIVE gap of 15+ episodes between what we learned in the great dime chase and what we learn in castle mcduck. It’s sloppy writing and I expect better from this team, especially since the Lena plot the same season is far tighter paced: each one builds a bit, both on Lena as a character (Why she’s doing this etc), her development as a person, her relationship with webby growing and Magica and her growing more and more spiteful with one another. They could’ve had at least ONE MORE subplot to build this up, especially since we really dind’t need the sasquatch episode but just.. didn’t for whatever reason and it’s still frustrating. But as always credit where it’s due.. the next two seasons were better about it.

Season 2 while not perfect, and we’ll get to it’s plots someday.. and I do say plots as not alternating between the two plots for season 1 was a mistake if a well meaning one as not to drive up the price for Kev but for future refrence if any of you want me to cover an arc for something I WILL have to cover all of it or any adjacent to it that flow into it. Point is they move faster and both Glomgold and Louie’s are pretty lowkey and low stakes so while enjoyable, their not moving incredibly fast dosen’t hurt the show. And the Moon plot has the best pacing of the three and possibly of the series plots period: We get filled in on Della fairly quick, getting answers on her WAY faster, get introduced to the moon and it’s people right away, get a whole episode on them, and the most importantly in sharp contrast? She returns HOME halfway into the season.

I will probably go into this again when I get to nothing will stop della duck but Season 1′s pacing and general wisdowm made me think she wouldn’t get home anytime soon and she’d return in the finale. Instead? We get a whole half a season fleshing her out further, seeing her connect with her kids, all that good stuff, WITH an episode advancing the moon arc, without that arc feeling unimportant, but still having the slow pacing.

Season 3 meanwhile while again not without bugs, the last few episodes before the finale having no real build up to it really wasnt a good idea and I question why these two episodes were the ones leading into it, has two seemingly barely related plots.. that EFFORTLESLY merge into one, with one hell of a huge twist in impossibin that ratchets up the stakes. I don’t know how it’ll payoff.. but we’ll see.

So they did get better, i’m still hard on it because it happened.. but I will never stop stressing how this crew usually corrected a mistake. If they fucked up, they LEARNED FROM IT, course corrected, and made it better and they listened to US. IN the good way, not letting fans run the series but listening to valid concerns and adapting to them. And given how fucking rare that is and how hard it must’ve been with the tight schedule, I.. I really appricate it and i’m going to miss it. And I can’t think of a segue so enjoy this picture of a turtle hitting a trapper in the face with a bat instead.

“Someone Always Gets Hurt”

So let’s take it back a few hours. Hit it boys!

Donald tries getting the boys back on the ship, clearly fearing something coming for him.. and we soon meet that something. Yes it’s the hero of legend, the stork out of myth, the star of a LOT of Donald Duck Slash FanFiction only half of which he wrote, STORKULES!

In case I didn’t make it clear when I reviewed New Gods on the Block! I love this guy. He reminds me a LOT of the marvel version: Boisterious , horny (if in a far more pg version), Gay (Pansexual for the marvel version), flawed but still immensley likeable. Stork is a bit diffrent, a bit more naive, a bit peppier and entirely blind to the fact his father is a terrible person. But my love of the marvel herc means Stork was an easy sell for me and Chris Dimatopolis’ performance is second to none, only topped in this series by his later work as Darkwing where he got a bit more range than “Joyous ham who wants to bang”. Also I’m 100% convenced he’s made this memetic expression to donald at some point...

If someone hasn’t redrawn that with Storkules yet, we have failed as an internet. And if someone has please show me.

His crush on Donald is also endearing even if I don’t ship the two. And if your curious as to why it’s simple: Storkules is attracted to a version of Donald that no longer exists. Storkules craves a Donald whose a brave daring hero who loves adventure. And while still a brave hero when the situation calls for it as this episode will bare out.. he just.. dosen’t have the passion for adventure he did as a kid. While a LOT of that is loosing his sister for a decade, even once he makes peace with that and later gets her back... he just wants a normal life. His greatest wish was for one. He apparenlty “wishes for this every day”. He dosen’t hate adventuering anymore and by season 3 has come to terms with the fact he’ll never get everyone else to stop.. but I also think it’s always been obvious he clearly wants to one day. To have a normal life, settle down, find a girl, and if she wants to get married. Get old , fat and happy. I honestly think that’s the direction the finale’s heading in judging from the previews. I don’t think he’ll ever stop entirely, his family life’s too insane for that.. but he just dosen’t want to keep going forever and Stork, being an immortal hero does. They want diffrent things entirely and that just won’t work. Though that’s also JUST me and if you ship them or have a way around that, feel free. This is just my opinon.

Anyways Donald’s not happy, the kids are confused and Scrooge. has problesm bigger than simply not knowing how to say i’m not into you.... aka Zeus, king of the gods and of all assholes. He was originally supposed to be a swan due to a certian myth.. but they realized since that myth is both really fucked up and really not for children to not do that because why the fuck would you. Point is Zeus in myth is an asshole, a rapist, a cheating husband, and a vengeful, petty dick and that’s with barely any knowledge of Greek Myth on my part. He’s played by Micheal Chiklis whose famous for The Comissh and the Shield.. but whose famous to me for playing the ever loving Blue Eyed thing in the Tim Story Fantastic Four movies.. and honeslty, at least till marvel takes a crack at it soon, is the best screen version of the character. Look the film is flawed and I don’t remember a lot of it.. but his stuff in it just NAILS the character perfectly, at least the first one, and while the look is.. eh, he was the perfect casting. He just wasn’t in the right movie. So he’s naturally awesome here as history’s greatest douchebag.

As for why Zeus is pissed at him unlike say Donald (The whole Spear of Selene fiasco) or Magica (Who while even worse than Zeus still lost her brother because of his callousness), or others he’s wronged.. Scrooge did absolutely nothing wrong here. During a beach party Storkules intiates, he reveals he used to be king of the beach and loved and worshipped by the people of ithaquack, which last time the adult ducks visited was a lovely hideaway for heroes. Scrooge naturally did a bunch of heroic and cool stuff, and upstaged him, and then bested him in various games and what not. Zeus claims they ran off because of this and because they didn’t want to party with a god bested by a mortal.. but scrooge reveals pottery showing it’s because Zeus threw a temper tantrum aka “a year long lightning storm”. So yeah for once all Scrooge did was just upstage someone who was already objectively horrible and who brought all of htis on himself. Scrooge even points it out perfectly “They didn’t leave because they liked me, they left because they didn’t like YOU. “

Pissing off the god who already didn’t like you for stupid reason goes about how you’d expect and when Storkules tries to cool things down by suggesting a game, Zeus turns it into a contest. His son against Scrooge’s nephews. Because he uh dosen’t want to lower himself. Yeah that’s it, totally not that Scrooge would kick his ass and then fucking kick his ass. Yeah that’s the ticket.

So our boys don Toga’s, and gear up for the first challenge: grabbing the bag of winds. In case you thought Spongebob just made that up. Zeus of course opens it so Donald can’t just leave, but Huey simply thinks his way out and wins , Zeus demands best 2/3 and we soon get a montage of various events from chariot racing to sculpture where we get our title picture, lest you thought I was kidding abotu Storkules obession with donald. I mean there’s subtextually having a character have a crush on another and then ther’es making a naked muscular statue of him. I.. I don’t even have a joke here. He made a naked muscular statue of Donald. The only way they could be less obvious without just coming outright and saying it was if hte statue was of hima nd storkules making out. And i’m 100% sure Frank, Matt and Dana, yes Dana Terrace was involved in this one i’m as unsurpised as you are, only didn’t do that because Disney said no.

Zeus declares one final round because he’s tired of this..e ven though he CLEARLY won the last one while Donald once again tries to just leave and Storkules finally calls him on it wondering why he’s given up adventuring and wondering what della would say if she could see him like this, having just given up and not caring anymore about any of ths stuff. “Well she can’t! Someone always gets hurt....”

And that one very sharp and painful line both outlines Donald’s arc here, and for the season, and makes it VERY clear why he retired and why I felt like he was already on his way and the spear of selene was simply the final straw. He gave up.. because he was just tired of it. Tired of being the one who got hurt.. and devistated when it wasn’t him that time. When he lost his sister for what he felt was NOTHING. Sure hte stars would be great but they’d done everything and gone everywhere..w asn’t.. wasn’t that enough/ Couldn’t they just be done? Couldn’t he just stop. The spear gave him an excuse to do what he always wanted, but it also caused him to harden up and view EVERYTHING about his old days of adventuring as bad when like most things i’ts not that simple., There were good times, sunshine, giant sized gay men obessing over you.. okay maybe the last part isn’t a plus in his book, but point is there was good and his arc is seeing that and realizing he can’t just cling to his pain. He has to let go so he can move on heathliy.

As for said final challenge Zeus tasks the boys and Storkules with stealing the golden fleece from a little girl. While this is part of a whole scheme... he undereistmaed his son’s valour and Storkules is naturally sent spinning over having to steal from a child and is sent into a crisis. Louie however has no such qualms, as he is a children.. and he’s also louie.. but as he tries to the child starts singing. As Scrooge puts it “nothing good happens when creepy children start singing. “ Very true, it’s usually a sign freddy kruger’s about to show up or your about to be taken by a miltiary orginzation obssed with The Doctor.

The boys plug their ears.. and Zeus’ plan becomes horrifically clear. Turns out he had no real interest in an actual contest this time, and has the child take control of Storkules to murder them. And gives the doucheist shrug imaginable when his OWN SON IS BEGGING HIM NOT TO MAKE HIM MURDER SOME CHILDREN.

Scrooge naturally gets involved. Meanwhile Donald is trying to escape the lightning cage Zeus is using to make sure no one leaves... when he hears the boys cries of terror. He may hate this kind of thing.. but there’s one thing and only one thing that can make him snap back into who he used to be like it was yesterday. And that’s harming his boys. So Donald snaps into action and it’s a glory to see as Scrooge snaps back with him “Just like old times”. The two once again get a little closer to reconclisation by wrestling a golden pansexual to prevent him from brainwashdely murdering two children. God I love this show and this job.

Huey however is more of the aim for the head sort and Louie simply uses his natural talent to talk the siren into working with him, with him as her agent. As he puts it Zeus just wants to use her.. he wants to use her too.. but to make them BOTH rich. She agrees, Louie wins, and Donald finally accepts storkules is his friend. Scrooge TRIES to use this to mend fences with Zeus.. but Zeus being a petulant dick wants another game and Scrooge simply throws a game of billiards or something like it to get this over with.

So we get our wrapup. Dewey and Webby return, and Storkules and Donald say their goodbyes. Donald finally admits he’s his friend.. and in that one act finally admits he can’t just bury his past because parts of it are painful. And as Storkules puts it he may be done with adventure.. btu adventure’s not done with him. He’s got more of his old self in who he is now than he thought. Dewey also accidently wins and our family finds launchpad took the plane apart. There.. there’s no real ending. I can only assume Selene said knock this shit off when she found out or beakly later came in guns blazing. I don’t know.

Final Thoughts: This episode is excellent. It has it’s fault: there’s no plot progression, and the ending is just stupid and is the only one of the series that feels like nothing was resolved. That being said.. the rest of the episode makes up for it. It’s filled with great gags as usual.. but the real meat is the character work. Dewey’s worries about his mom, and Donald’s attempt to literally leave his past behind, it’s really amazing stuff that elevates the episode past it’s flaws and into one fo the series best. Wheras revisting Other Bin reminded me it had a bad subplot that drug it down.. revisiting this one showed me just HOW near perfect it is with only a few things holding it back. Even with the dispaoitnment factor.. this one’s still excellent, with Ben, Kate and Tony all at the top of their games. Great stuff.

Next Time on this Arc: Dewey has to face the future when the truth comes out. And Scrooge.. bitches with his dad for half the episode. Sure beats his dad sadly btu sweetly passing on to be with his wife huh?!

Next time on this blog: Amphibia time! Speaking of facing the consequences of lying to your family, Hop Pop’s FINALLY forced to face hiding the Box from Anne, and we also get an ivy episode. Super fuckin shooters.

If you liked this review, consdier joining my patreon, link’s in the blog and next stretchgoal is a darkwing duck episode a month. Until the next rainbow it’s been a pleasure.

#ducktales #the spear of selene #delene #della duck #dewey duck #donald duck #storkules #zeus #scrooge mcduck #huey duck #louie duck #webby vanderquack #ithaquack #reviews #della arc

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buckybarnesbingo · 3 years

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Titles Game

Tonight I'm Going Back to My Old Ways - suggested by @steverogersnotebook

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky didn’t usually go for straight guys. Not since Brock in college, anyway. But tonight, all he could see was the blond across the bar. He was laughing with his friends, and he was gorgeous. Muscles for days, a body Bucky wanted to climb like a tree, and a wonderful smile that was a combination of Hallmark wholesome and downright dirty that shouldn’t have worked, but did. The piercing blue eyes just sealed the deal: Bucky was going to get him in his bed. (there would definitely be a tag in there about how they need to communicate and how Steve's not straight)

@wolfnprey - Bucky had settled down after he started a family. Everything told him he didn't deserve happiness, but he was beyond listening. Until some old ghosts showed up. Literal ghosts, and they were hellbent on making sure Bucky's life was upended. He'd buried the necronamicon in the basement ten years ago, but now he was digging it up with the help of his old partner. If only Steve was forgiving.

@steverogersnotebook - (Early recovering Bucky) finds it hard to come to terms with the modern Brooklyn, seeks out night clubs and smokes like a chimney in an effort to feel the way he remembers feeling.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Their relationship had been strained in a way that Bucky was pretty sure couple's therapy couldn't fix. Not that he had tried. He wasn't about to unload all of his trauma concerning not being his old self anymore on some poor middle-aged Brooklynite mother of three even if she did have a degree that supposedly helped. There was no way she was prepared to help a brainwashed assassin with a fault list from Coney Island to hell and back again. So instead he'd unloaded all of that on Natasha. As a best friend, she was legally obligated to listen to him anyway. And besides, she was cheaper; she could be bought with a whine and a wine. However, talking to Natasha also meant he got the cold, hard truth that his relationship was suffering not because he'd forgotten who he was and became a brainwashed assassin for decades, but because he'd forgotten who Steve was and hadn't spent a lot of time figuring it out again. So per his therapist's (Natasha's, whatever) advice, Bucky's getting back to his roots and rebecoming the man who knew everything about Steve Rogers and hoping that maybe somewhere along the line, he can figure out what it was that made the two of them work so perfectly together.

More under the cut!

Down the rabbit hole - suggested by @liquidlightz

@phoenixgryphon - MCU Nat going down the rabbit hole that is pre Cap2 TWS information

@steverogersnotebook - An edgy Alice AU where bucky meets the OUAT version of the mad hatter.

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky wasn’t sure how, but he was constantly seeing the same figure out of the corner of his eye. A tall, muscular blonde, who seemed as though he wasn’t quite there, which was why Bucky was sure he was imagining the man, or confusing multiple tall muscular blonds. They weren’t as uncommon as one would think, and Bucky was so tired, so he decided not to worry about the blond. Until the day he literally fell down a rabbit hole - in Brooklyn, of all places - and ended up in another version of New York.

@wolfnprey - Stripper AU. Nat drags Bucky to Down the Rabbit Hole for a particular stripper named Alice who is a beefy blond with bright blue eyes.

@bookdragon13 - Or alternatively: Steve goes to Storybrooke during his quest to find Bucky and meets Jefferson. Steve immediately goes “Bucky?” And Jefferson, in his sassy way, says “who the hell is Bucky?” But proceeds to use his hat to help Steve find his Bucky, if only to meet his lookalike Whether or not this becomes angsty, I’m not sure

@psychiccatpanda - Bucky In the 21st Century: After spending too much time on the internet trying to figure out what some of the things he’d been hearing about really were, Bucky wishes he’d trusted Tony when he said, “Snowflake, there’s whole swaths of the interwebs you don’t want to know. Trust me, please?” Now, six and a half hours later, he knew that there was Avengers fan fiction (and what that consisted of) and Avengers cosplay porn. He wasn’t sure what to do with this information. But maybe he just needed to do some more research. After a snack.

@liquidlightz - Alpine was very protective. Bucky loved gardening and he'd planted many different flowers, but there was a fat rabbit that kept popping by and eating all the best tulips, daylilies, you name it. Bucky was hesitant to harm the creature, but Alpine was having no more of it. She chased said rabbit down its hole and Bucky had to dig her back out.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Bucky’s family owned a farm so he'd had a plethora of pets his entire life, but when he'd moved to the big city, Bucky had stuffed Top Hat the white rabbit in her carrier and told her they were headed for the adventure of a lifetime, no looking back. And truth be told, sometimes New York was lonely. But the other truth was he didn't miss Indiana at all. He loved New York, but he'd never regretted his move more than the day he came home to discover Top Hat not in her enclosure. He had to go door to door on the entire floor and maybe the floor above and below his. Everyone had to help find his missing long-eared, fluffy-tailed best friend. Cue everyone in Bucky's apartment complex searching the entire building for one white rabbit trying to pull her own disappearing act. And cue Bucky searching for a rabbit, but finding maybe a little more along the way.

You pull hope from defeat in the night - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@steverogersnotebook - After a terrible loss on a mission, Bucky and [strained relationship/preferred pairing] are nearly wiped out themselves. One has to get out and get help for the other before it's too late for them too. In dragging the injured party to safety, promises made in supplication reignite hope for a resolution.

@somesortofitalianroast - (pre-serum!steve/Winter Soldier!Bucky) After exhausting missions, there’s nothing Steve likes better than hooking up with a guy at a bar, preferably one who would believe him when he said he wouldn’t break. Tonight, he chose the guy carefully, a big, beefy brunet with thighs for days and something about him that made him look gentle. One night turned into another. And another. And another…. Who said hookups couldn’t lead to love?

@bookdragon13 - Just when Bucky was feeling his lowest, walking around Brooklyn at night, he hears a faint meowing. Bucky finds the white kitten and takes it to the local vet. Afterwards, he couldn’t just leave the white fur ball behind, adopting her and giving her the name Alpine. With Alpine around, Bucky couldn’t help but start feeling like he could climb out of the hole he’d dug himself in. He can’t help but laugh at Alpine’s antics and when he’s having a bad day, she cuddles with Bucky as he rubs his fingers through her fur

@liquidlightz - Bucky had written off more cheques than his body could cash, yet again. Losing badly at poker and getting beaten down for failing to pay up. This night was turning out better than the last, as he found himself in the hands of a gorgeous Doctor with gentle hands who seemed to enjoy his attempts at flirting through bloodied teeth. Things might be looking up, he was going to go all in and take another chance tonight.

@wolfarrowepz - (Winterhawk, hockey AU)The Avengers were eliminated in the second round of the playoffs.... less than a third of the team had been with them when they won the championship 3 years ago. Now all Bucky wants to do is go home and sulk and ice his knee in peace. Clint has decided he needs to come to dinner with the team to show all the rookies and new guys to show them that losing isn't the end of the world. Fuck it all if Bucky will do whatever Clint asks. Bucky he liked him since they joined the team together as rookies. Clint is 100% oblivious to every move Bucky makes but if Clint asks him to do something he will. Clint on the other hand is convinced Bucky isn't into him. Cue pining and the inevitable "of course I Like you, you dope!" moment.

With Steel and Silver Burning Heart - suggested by @ibelieveinturtles

@steverogersnotebook - Dragon trainer AU, Steve goes to slay the dragon, Bucky's the dragon trainer. They meet, they clash, they enemies to friends to lovers.

@phoenixgryphon - big beefy bucky the blacksmith. who builds broadswords to bring in the bills

@somesortofitalianroast - (Regency!AU) James Barnes was well aware that he was the Marquis of Buchannan in name only. With no money left in the estates coiffers and three younger sisters - the oldest a mere year before her official debut - to support, he was desperate. Desperate enough to approach the new Duke of Brooklyn - a known rake with a history of getting in duels - with an offer: he supplies the cash for Rebecca’s debutante and in return, he gets James. But what happens when the purely financial relationship is no longer purely financial?

@liquidlightz - Bucky was not amused when the blade pierced his heart. Fuck, that hurt! "You asshole", he berated his not-looking-so-hot-now date on the other end of that dagger, "I thought we were having a good time." Bucky had to thank his lucky stars, and not his wits, that this hunter was a moron and that blade was cheap metal and not silver. He should, maybe, start being a little more discerning in his hookups.

@bookdragon13 - As a Knight of the Realm, Bucky was sworn to protect the royal family. He didn’t mean to fall in love with the Princess in the process. Neither did Bucky realize he was a jealous man, until he saw another knight, Brock, try to kiss the Princess, with her unwilling. Bucky immediately called Brock out, challenging him to a duel. When Brock was wounded, Bucky threatened that if Brock tried anything with Her Royal Highness again, he wouldn’t be so lenient.

#buckybarnesbingo2021 #bbb2021 #bbb discord party #titles game #party game

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stelliferia · 3 years

Text

So yknow my kobold arcane trickster rogue, Kitt? She has a familiar now! His name is Mugwump (after the Canadian cryptid) and he is the best familiar I could ever ask for. What a beautiful good boy.

The process for this little boi was probably the best way I’ve seen find familiar done. The DM’s an absolute legend. I keep thinking about it, and it just make me cry. Process/backstory dump under the cut. It’s a little long, be warned

I’m so sorry in advance, this became something of a writing exercise for me - if you read it, I really appreciate it, and feel free to send me a PM if you want to chat!

So in addition to the usual components for the spell (10 gp worth of charcoal, incense, and herbs, and a bronze brazier) Kitt was required to collect a few other things. As someone who casts through her mind (intelligence) she needed to find three objects that represented mastery over three parts of her mind, in order to to have a familiar that represented it.

First was what does she want. Second was what would she do to get what she wanted. And the third was what does she fear will happen if she doesn’t get what she wants.

After much deliberating (on both hers and my parts), Kitt settled on the following things. A feather, some rope, and a set of charred wooden dice.

The feather represented freedom. Freedom from the slumbering ancient red dragon she used to collect shinies, and the threat of the terrible things it is capable of if it wakes. She wants for the rest of the kobolds to be free too. To explore the world and see the wonders it has to offer, no longer bound to endless servitude, just like she is now. The feather itself came from a hawk that used to belong to a very unpleasant man who had since been drowned, freeing it - something Kitt would want for herself and the other kobolds.

The rope represented Kitt’s willingness to explore to the ends of the earth(?) to find the Great Blade that is said to be capable of slaying the dragon for good. If the Blade isn’t the answer, she intends to keep on looking. Her dragonborn companion once told her rope was the most important thing an adventurer could have. So if she’ll be travelling a lot, Kitt figures she’s going to need quite a significant amount.

The charred dice represented everything she’s come to know and love being destroyed. This expansive, scary, beautiful world that she still has so much to learn about, would be ripped away from her if something wasn’t done about the dragon. She’d never see them again - her beloved Priestess telling stories with the shimmery pictures, or her friends and weasel running about, calling her to play. And while she hasn’t known them for quite as long, the crew, no, friends she’s made, she wouldn’t want them taken from her either. They still have stories to write write, quests to complete, and she wants to help see them through to the end. The dice, before they were charred, had delicate gold lettering etched onto each of the faces, and finished with a rich mahogany varnish. They were the first shinies she had ever found, and her first exposure to the outside world. She has fond memories with these dice, of her and her friend sneaking off during rituals to admire and play with the pretty shinies, delighting in the clickity-clackity noise they’d make as they hit the ground. As she went to put them in the fire place, her eyes started welling up, watching her precious reminder of home going up in flames. She quickly wiped them away, as the dice burned and blackened beyond recognition, and she started the ritual.

Falling into a meditative trance, visions surrounded her. She’s standing on the ship deck, nothing and no one else around, except the hawk, soaring above her. She blinked, and suddenly, she was seeing through the hawk’s eyes. It flew over the various islands, some of which she had visited, some of them soon to be. The scene shifts again, and she’s standing again, but this time, its somewhere hot, ashy, and dark. She’s home again. As her eyes adjust, her heart sinks to the floor. All of her friends. Dead. Reluctantly, she looks around. And it’s not just them, but all of the crew, the people she’s met along the way, and her clan, scattered like ragdolls. Looking away from the bodies, she comes snout to snout with a familiar face. A face she spent her life fearing, and hoped never to see again, and not like this. The Great Dragon Viskelaer was awake.

Waking with a gasp, she found herself back in her quarters. Her heart was pounding, and her face was wet with tears. She curled into a ball, shaken by what she saw. There was a tug at her scarf, and when she looked, bright blue eyes looked back at her. The small mahogany creature pawed its way into Kitt’s lap, and its rope-like tail curling around as it settles in for a nap. Tentatively, the kobold reached out her claws to pet it, like she did the weasels back home. This one felt a little different though. The fur was more like soft feathers, somewhat reminiscent of the hawk. Realizing what had happened, Kitt’s cracked the tiniest grin. This weasel, Mugwump, is her precious shiny, and she was going to make sure she worked to protect it.

RIGHT SO THAT WAs BASICLALY WHAT HAPPENED for Kitt to get her familiar, and nearly everything about it I attribute to my incredible DM. I think he’s the first DM I’ve had who’s given me a world I absolutely adore, and he handles my character (monster race) so incredibly well. He’s very much all about the creative reflavouring, and I live for it. Gahh I have so much to say about this DM. They also handle Mugwump (in-game) very well, and it makes me so unbelievably happy. (i’m going to start a tag for myself for things Mugwump does/things I headcannon he does, called Mugwump Ventures)

So because of Kitt’s love of shinies, Mugwump has an inherent need for them as well. He doesn’t quite understand why though, so his natural response is to bite shinies he finds. He’s always actively seeking them out, eyes glittering whenever he sees one. He melts my heart. The forge cleric (one of my good friends in the group) had just gotten an upgrade to his armour, and didn’t know what to do with his old chain mail, so he ended up giving it to Kitt/Mugwump as a gift. Mugwump was overjoyed, and it’s his new toy now. It was so so sweet, and we are all crying.

Tangent, but everyone in the party has gifted Kitt with something at some point. I mean, makes sense, you want to appease the captain >:). The druid gave her little daisies whenever he went to get her, the carpenter made her a little boat model, and the forge cleric not only gave her the armour, but he also forged her a proper rapier to replace her pointy stick. It’s just so sweet and wholesome. The crewjust wants to keep this little Kobold child happy

Gosh, another thing, when i first thought about casting Find Familiar, I just assumed it would be a regular weasel, but when the DM began describing Mugwump’s appearance, I began squealing from joy. Every aspect of the familiar’s appearance reflects the items, and what they mean to Kitt. So the eyes were meant to be the seas they were sailing, the rope tail was... the rope, the colouring was supposed to be the dice and the charring, the feathers for freedom/the hawk, and the form (though predetermined) was home. I was legit so happy about it. I love this DM. It’s been a great time.

Anyways, long post over thanks for reading, hope you stay tuned for more wholesome content!

#dnd #find familiar #kobold #weasel #pirates campaign #mugwump ventures #stelliferiarts #stelliramblings

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flightfoot · 3 years

Text

Dragon Falls Ch. 9

AO3

Kagami was testing out her gliding ability when it happened.

Gliding didn’t require as much wing movement - and thus not as much aggravation of her injury - as fully flying did, so it was a good way to monitor her recovery. The valley she’d fallen into when she’d first hurt her wing was an ideal testing ground, what with the shortness of its cliffs.

The first time went pretty well, some slight discomfort as she opened and then after landing, folded her wings, but that was it. They held her up well in the air.

She didn’t really NEED to do a second test.

...It’d been a week since she was in the air. She was doing a second test.

Her muscles tensed.

She sprang into the air, unfurled her wings, enjoyed the wind rushing past her wings.

Raid the humans

Startled, she couldn’t keep her wings steady, causing her to roll over and crash.

Luckily she was able to avoid landing on a wing joint and injuring herself further.

But she had greater concerns.

There was no more waiting. No more delay.

Her friends had better be done with their contraption.

The Queen had spoken, and Kagami’s people had no choice but to obey.

She gauged the position of the sun.

They still had a couple hours until sundown, when the attack would likely occur.

Since her people’s minds were dulled by the Queen, she had to execute strategy FOR them. Attacking at night was advantageous most of the time, with humans’ pitiful night vision. But the Queen’s call to attack had to take into account travel time, so she often called to attack a few hours before night fell.

Rolling briefly in the dirt to dull her scales (as much as she prided herself on her presentation, camouflage was more important right now. She didn’t need the flash of sunlight on her scales to give her away), she raced off to Berk to warn the others.

---------

Why did there have to be so many humans?!

Steps raced past.

She retreated into the shadow of a nearby house, hiding underneath some sort of wheeled contraption.

At least she was on the smaller end. If she’d been bigger this would have been far more difficult.

Giving the air a few sniffs, she raced off towards a certain house.

An awfully BIG house, as it happened. Bigger than any others she’d seen.

She shook herself, circling the building (well, as best she could without getting caught).

How to get inside? There weren’t any obvious entrances-

A rope hung down to the ground.

And above it-

An opening!

Far off the ground, and it’d be dangerous to try to fly through such a small opening anyway considering her wingspan (though if her wings were at full working capacity she could probably manage it, diving in and folding her wings at the last second).

But right now that wasn’t really an option.

She looked again at the rope.

Then a nearby tree.

Then back to the rope.

Hm…

Taking the rope in her mouth, she wrapped it around the tree, forcing the end of it back through the loop to create a knot.

Or at least she HOPED it was a knot. Damn humans with their damn hands and their ability to easily manipulate objects.

Holding a breath, she tested the rope.

It bent a little under her weight, but held.

Carefully, using her wings for balance, she walked the tightrope to Adrien’s bedroom window.

-------

Adrien unlocked the door to his home, closing it behind him.

It’d been a loooong day at Dragon Slaying training. He just wanted to lay down and collapse on his be-

Wait.

What was that?

“Uhhh…”

The rustling, banging noise came again.

Gripping his staff tightly, he inched closer, careful to duck behind cover.

More scrabbling.

More footsteps.

He tensed, rounded the corner-

“Adrien we have to prepare NOW!”

“AHHHH!”

He stumbled backwards into some furniture, knocked over a chair, collapsing in a heap on the ground.

He stared at her, heart hammering. “Ka-kagami?!”

She nodded. “The Queen has called. The raid will start. We must prepare.”

The Queen called…?

He frowned. “Are you okay? If you heard that call, her voice…”

They hadn’t known how effective her control would be at such a distance. Nightmares of Kagami’s pupils shrinking, her speech, her mind being stolen from her once again kept invading his sleep.

She shook her head. “I could feel it, but it had little power. It was just words, little else.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

A smirk slowly spread across his face. “Then let’s go free the others.”

-------

“I haven’t gotten a chance to test it yet, though the prototypes worked well-”

Adrien nodded impatiently. “I guess we’ll have to test it now then. What better way than out on the field.”

“There are lots of better ways,” Max told him, adjusting his glasses. “But I see your point. We can’t afford to wait. Have you set up a way to retrieve the dragons?”

“Alix is doing her thing. She’s good at distracting people; hopefully she can redirect the rest of Berk away from what we’re doing. Alya, Kagami, and I will try to retrieve the dragons, keep them sedated until the Queen’s orders wear off.”

A booming craaaack ripped through the air.

Adrien and Max looked at each other, nodded, and wheeled the contraption out.

Fires burned, people yelled - but few right where they were. Alix did her job as a distraction well.

Taking aim, Adrien looked around, following the noises of the dragons.

It being dark out was a hindrance. He couldn’t see the dragons themselves well-

But he could see where they covered the stars. For where he could only see black.

Moving it from side to side, he looked carefully, gauged the trajectory-

And fired.

Once.

Twice.

And a third time, a tell-tale thump-screech ringing out in each instance.

He winced.

He hated doing this, potentially hurting them, but… well… it was even LESS safe for them to be caught by the other Berkians, or to be around the Queen.

At least, he hoped it was safer here.

For several more tense minutes, he and Max looked around, trying to spot more dragons.

But no more appeared. They were either out of range or already on the ground.

Gradually the noise started dying down. The raid was ending.

He just hoped the others had done their parts.

--------

Slinking around the edges of the battles, Alya and Kagami tried to stay hidden.

Alix had been doing her best to keep the other Berkians attention away from the dragons falling from the sky, and for anyone else Kagami would assume that would be near impossible but…

Well…

If anyone had told Alix that, she was pretty sure the girl would have flipped them off and then added in about three stunts along the way just to say ‘screw you’ to so-called “common sense” and “sanity”.

Now she kinda wanted to tell her that just to see what absurdly impressive feats Alix could pull off…

She shook herself. No. Bad Kagami. She could egg Alix on later, when her people’s lives weren’t in jeopardy.

AFTER her people shook off their mind control, THEN they could try and see what kind of awesomeness they could pull off together. Especially with how her wings were healing.

Once she could fly? All bets were off.

Though Alix wasn’t the one she most wanted to show the beauty of the skies…

A screech ripped through the air.

Kagami winced. She knew this wasn’t going to be pleasant, but it still clawed at her to hear one of her people in pain.

She’d heard it too many times over the years.

Alya looked at Kagami and nodded. Together they raced over to the first dragon.

---------

Kagami stared at the downed dragon.

He was a little bigger than her, being closer to four and a half feet long at the torso, though with a shorter tail, only maybe two feet long. The shell-like, domed structure of his back made him look bigger than he was.

People, humans or dragons, usually knew better than to try and attack a dragon of his type from above. The modified scales may have been less flexible than regular ones, but they were a hell of a lot tougher, and it wasn’t exactly like dragon scales were easy to break through even under normal conditions.

Not that many people would want to attack Nino. Between his easy-going, but determined demeanour, how hard he worked to reach out to others, to help them, he’d befriended most dragons he’d had the opportunity to talk with.

But now?

Now Nino snarled, pupils constricted, showing no emotions more complex than anger and fear.

That part of him, of his self, had been stolen from him.

She bit back a growl. It wouldn’t do any good. The one she felt like attacking wasn’t here.

“Do you have it?” She asked Alya.

“I’ve got it right here,” she moved to pull it out of her bag.

Kagami rapidly backed up.

But it smelled so good, so nice…

NO. THIS WAS NOT THE TIME.

Alya slowly approached Nino.

He snapped his teeth, hissing.

But as she got closer and closer, the dragon nip held out in front of her like a talisman, his anger, his fear, his tension started dissipating.

His pupils widened slightly.

He leaned forward for a good sniff-

And gave a happy purring chirp before collapsing on the ground.

Kagami let out a sigh of relief, hearing Alya do the same.

Then looked at the situation and groaned.

“I’d really hoped we’d have to move a smaller dragon.”

--------

Dragging Nino took some work, but at last they got him into the woods. They’d need to carry him further in of course, but that could wait until they had more time. Right now they were on a clock.

Kagami fidgeted. It’d been several minutes since the last dragon was shot down. They shouldn’t be able to move much, but if a Berkian stumbled across them…

She shook her head. ‘What ifs’ wouldn’t help. Best to just work as fast as possible.

“You remember where the other dragons fell?” Alya panted, looking like she’d rather lay down and nap for an hour than drag a dragon around.

“Assuming they haven’t moved, yes.” Yet another way in which excellent hearing was an advantage; she could easily pinpoint where even a distant sound came from.

Now if only that hearing acuity wasn’t being commandeered for mind control…

She turned around, leading the way to the nearer dragon-

And froze.

She could smell dragon - admittedly, that also helped with locating - but that wasn’t all.

Her eyes narrowed. “We have company. Human company.”

Alya shot up. “Where?!”

Kagami didn’t answer, electing to race off towards the dragon - and the humans - instead.

There wasn’t a moment to waste.

--------

Four kids surrounded the dragon, holding their weapons uncertainly.

A bit of tension left Kagami’s shoulders. The adults would probably have attacked already, but the kids? None of the people in Adrien’s class had ever killed, or even seriously injured a dragon before. And considering her experience with Adrien’s classmates so far…

“Back away from Juleka,” Kagami called out.

The four of them whipped around.

Their eyes widened.

“ALYA! LOOK OUT!” the short blond girl yelled.

Alya put up her hands. “Don’t worry, she isn’t a threat,” she told them. “And under normal circumstances, that dragon over there,” she pointed at Juleka, “wouldn’t be either.”

The four kids looked puzzled at that.

“She’s under mind control,” Kagami explained, “All the dragons who attacked Berk are. We’re working to incapacitate them long enough for the mind control to wear off, for my people to return to their senses.”

The kids stared.

Looked at Alya.

Then at Kagami.

And finally to Juleka, lying still, growling slightly.

The red-headed boy shrugged. “Okay.”

Kagami blinked. “Okay?”

Admittedly it hadn’t been difficult to persuade any of the people she’d run into about the plight of her people, but that was still awfully quick.

“This dragon fell out of nowhere, the adults are nowhere to be seen, and now you, a talking dragon, are right here in front of us,” he explained. “At this point I’m ready to just go with it. I’ve been around Kim and Alix my whole life. This isn’t the strangest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Kagami opened her mouth… then promptly shut it. Now was not the time.

“We need to get this Dragon nip close enough to Juleka for her to sniff. It’ll knock her out,” Alya told the blond girl.

The girl looked at Alya. Her lips thinned, pressing together into a straight line. “Not you.”

Alya blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You look exhausted. Let me do this.” Her tone brooked no argument.

Alya handed the Dragon nip over to the small girl. “Just… be careful Rose.”

Marching forward, Rose held the Dragon nip out in front of her, much like Alya had with Nino. Juleka growled, attempting to back up, seeming almost scared.

Rose’s expression softened. “It’s ok,” she murmured, “this’ll make you feel better. You don’t have to be scared or angry anymore.”

Kagami blinked. Was it her imagination, or did Juleka’s pupils actually widen slightly at that? And was she actually relaxing?

Juleka leaned forwards, her long neck straining to reach Rose. She sniffed delicately at the plant, relaxed completely- and passed out.

Rose stroked her head. Juleka purred in her sleep.

Kagami tore herself away from the (extremely adorable) sight. “Rose? We have to move her now.”

-------

Ten minutes later, they’d hauled Juleka over to Nino. Unfortunately Juleka was even bigger than Nino, and a lot longer. Everyone (except herself of course) was sweating and panting by the time they were done.

“Are *gasp* all *wheeze* dragons that heavy?!” Nathaniel (she’d gotten to know all the kids names during the struggle to move Juleka) asked incredulously.

“No,” Kagami told him. “Some are much bigger.”

He groaned.

Kim grinned. Unlike Rose, Nathaniel, or Mylene, he didn’t even look winded. “I hope the next dragon’s larger,” he said excitedly. “Alix and I have a bet on who can move the heaviest thing we can find the furthest.”

Nathaniel shot Kim a dismayed look. “You can’t even move Juleka by yourself, how do you expect to move a bigger dragon without help?!”

“Well I’ll have exercised more and become stronger by then!”

Nathaniel just shook his head.

A crashing sound interrupted their conversation.

Kagami sniffed, then tensed.

The sound came from the same direction as the last dragon.

She took off, the humans hurrying in her wake.

---------

Great. Just GREAT.

It HAD to be Ivan.

Don’t get her wrong, Ivan was normally fine. Not the best at words, but a nice enough guy. He reminded her of herself sometimes; he struggled in social situations like she sometimes did.

Unfortunately, he was big.

Like REALLY big.

Juleka had been pretty long, with her measuring eight feet from nose to tail tip.

Ivan was ten feet long.

And unlike Juleka, most of that was torso.

“You HAD to wish for a bigger dragon!” Nathaniel groaned.

Kagami grimaced. They’d struggled enough transporting Nino and Juleka. Lugging Ivan over to the two of them in a timely fashion just wasn’t going to happen.

Plus…

Ivan turned around.

The bolas they’d used with the other dragons had worked ok. But it was geared towards dragons more Kagami’s size, not Ivan’s.

Which meant that while it had been able to knock Ivan from the air, the rope hadn’t been able to wrap around him and constrict his movements to the extent that it had with the other two.

Which meant a pissed off very large dragon was lumbering around.

“Stay back!” Kagami hissed.

Unfortunately, Ivan heard her.

His eyes narrowed.

“Alya,” Kagami told her, keeping her tone as steady and neutral as possible, “Give me the Dragon Nip.”

Alya blanched. “But you know what it does to you!”

Kagami let out a breath. “I’m the only one who can take his attacks, and he’s less likely to attack me in the first place.”

“But…”

Ivan stalked towards her.

“There’s no time!” she snapped.

Alya held the Dragon Nip out to her.

She took it in her mouth.

Oh.

OH.

She felt like giggling. What’d she been worried about again?

Oh look at all her new friends gathered around here! Were they up to playing a game?

A large movement caught her attention. Ivan ran at her.

Oh how fun! A game of chase! She’d heard about this kind of thing, but had never gotten to play for herself.

But where was the finish line.

A flash ran through her brain of Nino and Juleka sleeping in a heap nearby.

Ah yes! That’d be perfect!

She bounced off, Ivan hot in pursuit.

He couldn’t catch her of course, while he was big, he wasn’t particularly fast or agile - unlike her.

She actually had to stop a few times, wagging her tail, for Ivan to catch up before bouncing off again.

A few minutes later they reached the dragon pile.

“I win!” she mumbled as best she could without letting go of the plant in her mouth.

Huh.

Why DID she have a plant in her mouth.

She was supposed to do something here, wasn’t she?

Hm…

Oh yeah, she needed to give him the plant! It was a nice consolation prize for losing the race.

Ivan ran over to her.

He must want to receive his prize!

She threw it into his mouth.

He swallowed it, stopping dead in his tracks.

Then keeled over, snoring.

Looking at the sleeping dragons, Kagami felt her own eyes drooping.

Climbing into the dragon pile, she curled up and let herself drift away.

#dragon falls #adrigami #adrimi #kagami tsurugi #adrien agreste #ml fanfic

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deliciousscaloppine · 4 years

Text

16. A cruel king asks to marry you. Which three impossible dresses do you ask for in exchange for your hand? (Wen Chao, Wen Xu & Nie Huaisang)

Meng Yao entered the room with small coquettish steps, looking down bashfully.

“You are wanted in the main hall.” he said and shuffling all the way to the closet, he opened it wide and started throwing out in the room his finest evening wear.

“Ah! These are delicate, Meng Yao! Don't toss them like that.” Huaisang said wrestling an outfit out of his hands.

“You have to dress nice, there are two gentlemen to see you tonight.” Meng Yao effortlessly said while grabbing a comb and taking it to Huaisang's hair with all the rancor of a former street urchin who had to use twenty four different products to make his own hair less frizzy.

“Two? What do they want from me?” he said trying to get out of Meng Yao's vindictive ministrations.

“To marry you, silly. What else?”

“Does Da-ge know?”

“He is the one who sent me to fetch you. You see the two gentlemen happen to be lord Wen Ruohan's sons.”

“The Twin Dipshits of Qishan are here to ask my hand in marriage!? And there are still alive!?”

“Well.” Meng Yao said as he brought over the box with his exquisite selection of jade pendants. “As guests, your brother has to honor their request to state their intentions before you, but after that I am pretty sure he is going to behead them both. So don't wear white.”

“Eugh!” Huaisang said as he rummaged for something equally appropriate for both a marriage proposal and a public execution.

“Oh, tell me about it! I tried advising your brother to just slip a little something in their tea, but he grrrrrrr'ed at me. And it was not even a sexy grrrrrrr. It was more like a stop talking now grrrrrr” Meng Yao said with an air of terse exasperation.

“How am I not going to wear white? White is my color.” Huaisang said as he exchanged his little flat coronet, for a bigger one – to look taller of course, life was meaningless without its little vanities after all.

Finally decked in his finest crescent moon, hazy river in the mist pattern robes, and his fringe tastefully brushed with a touch of unkemptness, he and Meng Yao made their way to the main hall, after agreeing that Meng Yao would enter with his head bowed and at least three steps behind him so that Huaisang could appear taller.

The twin dipshits, er, the twin esteemed young lords of Qishan were sitting at a small distance from each other emanating some really cursed vibes, sporting what seemed to be last seasons' red under the falling maple leaves fashions, while Huaisang's own big brother in all of his I grew a moustache when I was fifteen lordly dignity was silently qi deviating on his throne, his knuckles turned completely white as he clutched the armrests of his seat.

When the two lords, Wen Xu and Wen Chao saw him, they elbowed each other for who would sit closer to him. Meng Yao intercepted them both in full bodyguard mode.

“Gentlemen, please. Allow my lord to display his many talents first, then tea. At any given moment, you are not allowed to come within ten paces of him. People's respiration hazes up my lord's complexion.”

Huaisang settled before an elegant study set before the princes, and right below his own brother's dais. He straightened his fringe, did a full profile, three quarters, full face, face posing twice, so the two princes could admire his looks. Having his sleeves arranged elegantly around him on the floor by his beloved manservant Meng Yao, the latter vanished to prepare tea.

Huaisang took out his brush and gave it a lick. Today he was going to do a scroll with a depiction of pines in soft snowfall under the glow of the midwinter moon. And while at it, he would get a good look at those two princes of the Wen, whose eyebrows were doing some weird interpretive dance right now at being told off.

That Wen Chao was serving evil prince who plans to kill his own father looks, while Wen Xu had that aura of I slay children, but if I had a little sister I would dote on her lovingly.

“So, I heard the two of you, gentlemen, came to ask my hand in marriage.”

“Marry me, lord Huaisang!” Wen Chao said passionately. “My brother Wen Xu barely leaves the house! He is totally under my father's thumb. You'll be locked in every weekend for family dinner.”

“Eugh!” Wen Xu said disgustedly. “Don't marry him, lord Huaisang! He has lost count of his girlfriends. Also he is already married, you wouldn't even be his first!”

“Are you bragging about being a virgin!” Wen Chao yelled.

“At least I don't have twelve different stds. Nor do I trash innocent people's homes and then fall unconscious from doing drugs!”*

Huaisang heard wood splinter. It was his brother's hand slowly digging into the armrest.

“You don't even have a bodyguard. I have Wen Zhuliu. All chicks love Wen Zhuliu. You listen here closely, lord Huaisang, Wen Zhuliu can do benchpresses with you sitting on the bar.” Wen Chao bragged.

“You don't even love him! The only reason you came was because you found out I was interested first. I am going to tell dad!” Wen Xu said shoving his brother. Soon they were locked in what seemed to be a sequence of wrestling headlocks, while Baxia behind him was rattling madly in its stand.

Thankfully right at this moment Meng Yao came in with the tea.

“Stop clenching your jaw.” Huaisang heard Meng Yao whisper to his brother. Mingjue's jaw immediately popped. Since when did the two of them were on such fond terms that his brother did everything Meng Yao said? This was too suspicious.

Meng Yao served him next. “For the love of my mother's bones, please stop licking the brush. It is both gross and unhygienic. Use this cup right over here. I can't believe how anyone would want to marry you!”

“Jealous because you are pressing thirty and no one has ever asked you to marry them?”

Meng Yao silently scoffed and moved on.

“Gentlemen” Huaisang addressed the two evil princes. “Please, settle down. I would love to marry either of you, but Qishan is notorious for its yesterday fashions. So to my great disapointment I can't choose any of you, unless you pledge to do something about the pitiable condition of your clan's fashion state.”

“What are you talking about? Have you seen my designer belt? This is bespoke!” Wen Xu said lifting himself.

“Yes, and it would have greatly impressed me, hadn't it been a KNOCKOFF! Check the decorative hoops at the sides for holding jade pendants. This designer is known for their uniquely constructed ridged hoops. These are plain, not ridged. So do not insult my intelligence. Do you think we are some backwater village up in the mountains we the Qinghe Nie?”

The two princes remained with mouths agape.

“I could be persuaded to choose one of you, if only you abandon your wannabe fashionista who only shops in a bazaar sale ways, and both of you go on a quest to bring me three of the most exclusive, the most discontinued, the most bespoke items in existence!”

“We accept!” Wen Chao said forcefully. “There is no thing Wen money can't buy.”

Huaisang squinted evily. “Oh! Well then, I want each to bring me a semi-cloak cut on a circular pattern, with pleats, made of the finest fur of Gusu Cold Pond bunnies! And I don't want it in white. I want it in black!”

Wen Chao made a choked sound in his throat. “This is a suicide mission!” he said. “The Lan will skin anyone who tries to skin their bunnies.”

“Only for someone as cowardly as yourself!” Wen Xu said elbowing him.

“Secondly, you must bring me the elegant two fiber fishbone weave stripe pattern sari that Madam Yu Ziyuan head of the Yunmeng Jiang produces and distributes exclusively to her most trusted handmaidens once every season. And I want it to be in the colors of the last fall season! A most tasteful contrast of purple, yellow, red ochra and beige, hemmed with the finest muslin silk money can buy, and a tasteful silver bead trim.”

“Than can be done! I am really close buddies with old Yu.” Wen Chao said.

“You mean after you trashed her place last summer at the pink lotus gala!” Wen Xu said.

“And third! I want a penannular pendant made exclusively from the shell of the Turle of Slaughter, Xuanwu, with its accompanying beads, five of them on each tassel and a sixth in the shape of a buddha sitting on lotus flower design. And I want them to be so finely carved that light passes through them!”

“These things are impossible to make and you know it!” Wen Xu said, chugging some of his tea. “You are just stalling because you can't make a decision. You know what? My father will hear of this. See what he has to say. Come on, brother, we will not be ridiculed in here anymore” Wen Xu continued and lifted his brother, who was also finishing his tea.

The two princes glared at everyone in the hall swearing retribution with their eyes, before sauntering towards the door. But before exiting the hall, they both collapsed on the ground out cold.

“Ooops. I couldn't help myself.” Meng Yao smiled naughtily.

“Meng Yao! These were foreign dignitaries! Brother, tell him something, he killed our esteemed guests. I was going to marry one of them!” Huaisang pouted.

“Meng Yao!” Nie Mingjue finally said after he recovered from his tenth consecutive mini stroke.

“Oh, relax, they are not dead. I just gave them Chifeng-zun’s special relaxing bedtime herbal tea blend.” Meng Yao said, shuffling towards the snoring suitors to sweep them out of the room.

#meng yao #nie huaisang #wen xu #wen chao #wensang #nie mingjue #the untamed #the untamed prompts #the untamed fic #qinghe harem stories

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silly-nonny-fics-are-for-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Impossible Happiness

Note: This is a gift fic for @angiezstuff! This is the last of the gift fics so I had to go big or go home, so this one is about 5.5k words! It’s based on the Jaystosuh AU with a little baby Gavin so hopefully you’ll like it.

Small TW bullying, and TW for stuff at the end. Nothing graphic but there is some sorta dark stuff, which is mostly angst and not that bad.

Gift fic 3/3, Jaystosuh.

Summary: Gavin was known at school as the weird kid. Maybe it was his blue hair, maybe it was because he was really smart for only being six years old. Or maybe it was because he had three caretakers and none of them were female. He didn't know. What he did know was that if his family knew, they would be very upset, and they had enough to deal with without knowing that their little bear cub got hit in class.

Read on Ao3 or keep reading

Gavin was a good kid, by all accounts. Of course, he had a very unorthodox life, but he never minded. He loved his family. Sure, his brother and his brother's boyfriends being his parents was something that most people didn't understand, but that was life for him. They loved him, he loved them, and his life was fun! Hosuh always did his best to make sure he had what he needed, Jay always helped him with his schoolwork, making sure as well that he didn't do anything too dangerous even though he really wanted to, while Stephen was tons of fun.

He didn't know why he lived with them, but he knew that an older woman came to visit them once a week. He didn't know her name, nor did he know what the reason for her visits were, but he knew she always talked to the 'adults' and never wanted to talk to him. He'd overheard, once, something about an orphanage, and came to a realization.

If he was a bad kid, the woman would take him away. He didn't want to go away. The other kids at school, the older kids, always called him weird and other names, one even kicked him, but he never hit them back! Hosuh always told him that he should not hit other kids! Stephen and Jay said something about an ash haul, but Gavin didn't understand what they meant.

"Gavin?" Hosuh asked, one morning after the woman left, "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Okay..." Gavin mumbled, staring down at the ground. Had he been bad? He followed the rules, he'd did his schoolwork, he could almost neatly! He could count to a hundred by tens or twenties, do addition and subtraction, he was the best reader in his class, he'd done everything his teachers asked, why did Hosuh look so serious?

Why did Jay and Stephen look so mad? Were they mad at him? Tears came to his eyes, and he began sniffling, face red.

"A-Am I in trouble?" He asked, staring up at his caretakers as he climbed onto one of the big kid chairs, "Did I do bad?"

"What? No, no. Little cub, you didn't do anything wrong." Hosuh said, helping the little six-year-old into the chair before he knocked it over, "We need to talk about school, that's all."

Gavin always loved it when they called him their little cub. He had a onesie, a bear, which used to be white until a laundry incident happened, thanks to Stephen, and the white onesie turned blue. He was their bluebear. Hosuh was their bunny. Jay was their fox. Stephen was a cat. He really liked when they gave in to his begging and all wore onesies with him. Those were the nights when they built pillow forts in the living room, watched movies, and all fall asleep in one big cuddle pile.

It didn't look like one of those days. Ever since school started again, those days had gotten lesser and lesser, since they all needed to do schoolwork all the time. Gavin liked the weekends, they did their shopping on the weekends, they took him to the park on weekends and he wasn't stuck in their house. Though, running through the woods and playing in the mud, pretending to be a prince slaying a dragon was always fun. He liked the mud too.

"Why about school?" Gavin asked, looking around the table. Jay looked scary, biting his lip and glaring at the table, while Stephen's hands shook in clenched fists on the surface. Hosuh had his normal, soft smile, but Gavin knew the look in his eyes. Sadness. Worry.

"Gavin, do you know Ms. Alice?" Hosuh asked, "The woman who comes to visit us every week?"

"You mean the scary lady who wants to take me away?"

Jay and Stephen's heads snapped up, eyes wide as they stared at the child. What did he just say? Why would she want to take him away?

"Why do you think she wants to take you away?" Hosuh asked then, raising his hand to keep his boyfriends from yelling. Gavin squirmed under their gaze, trying not to cry even more than he already was.

"Sh-She said somethn bout an orphanage. I don't wanna go away..."

"Gavin, you're not gonna be taken away!" Stephen exclaimed, reaching out for his brother's hand. "If someone tried to take you away, they'd have to go through me first."

"Hey, don't forget me!" Jay interrupted, "No way are we giving our cub away."

"Mhm, but that's not this conversation."

"Con... Conversition?"

"Conversation, Gavin. It means to talk with someone," Stephen said, giving Gavin's hand a little squeeze.

"Right. Now, Gavin, We have something to ask you. Are the other kids in your class nice?"

Gavin paused, thinking about the kids in his class. There were a few girls who really liked to make fun of him, ever since parents day last year when he had explained that if Stephen, Hosuh, and Jay took care of him then they were like his dads, though brothers fit better. He was a really bright kid, Mr. Bell always said he should be in the second or third-grade classes, but maybe that made the other kids upset? The other kids liked to tease him, some kids pulled his hair, but he tried not to think about that. There was one kid, a girl who entered the class later in the year named Anne, she liked to play with him. She had a little unicorn plushie which she carried in her backpack, but only Gavin knew about it.

"Mhm. They're nice." Gavin said, after pondering the question for a few minutes. The other kids were nice, they just weren't nice to him.

"Okay... Do they ever call you names? Or hurt you?"

"If they do hurt you, you hit back, right?" Stephen interrupted again, obviously worried for his little brother, "Don't let them push you around!"

They hurt. Their words hurt. They really, really hurt. But the kids who hurt him didn't understand, and he was confused; why didn't they like him? Why did they call him a gay? What even was a gay? They liked to make fun of his family, but he didn't understand why. It hurt when they were mean about his family.

He saw how worried everyone was, how upset they were, and he didn't want to make them more upset. He didn't want them mad at him.

"N-No, uhm. No one hurts me." Gavin lied, staring up at his family, "Why?"

The three teenagers sighed. All tension seemed to leave Jay and Stephen's bodies, while Hosuh just smiled. They were always honest with him, and Gavin knew he'd probably be in trouble for his lie if they ever found out, but he didn't want them to hurt because he was hurting.

"Ms. Alice was told by Mr. Bell that you were crying in class yesterday, so she wanted to know if everything was alright here. She was worried about you being bullied because, uh... How do I put this..."

"Because you have three caretakers." Jay said simply, "And we're all guys. "I'm pretty sure you've realized that isn't normal."

Gavin nodded. He'd never questioned before why he had three caretakers, no 'real' dad or a mom, because that was always how it was. For as long as he could remember, it was just the four of them, with the scary lady showing up every once and a while. And Gavin wasn't going to question that now, when everyone was already upset.

"Can I go now?"

"I dunno, can you?" Stephen asked, smirking as he did. Both of the other teens chuckled softly at the response, the question Stephen always asked whenever Gavin asked if he could do something.

"It's okay, Gavin. You can go play outside. Stephen, go play with him." Jay decided.

"Don't tell me what to do!"

Even though he protested, Stephen walked over and motioned for his brother to follow him. He wouldn't give up spending time with his brother for the world, even though he had lots of things to do. One day, he knew Gavin wouldn't want to spend time with him, and he didn't want to let that be his fault. Gavin grinned and ran out of the kitchen to the front door, being careful to open it so he won't get hit in the face, he'd done that one too many times, before running out into the front yard. He missed Hosuh's yell of 'Put your shoes on!', of course, and headed straight to the back yard.

There was a sandbox there, and a big pretty wooden ladder with vines creeping up the side of the house which Gavin liked to climb. It went all the way to the roof, and he hadn't managed to break it yet. So the rule, Gavin knew, was that if Gavin was going to play in the backyard, someone needed to watch him.

So he didn't end up on the roof again.

"Wait up a second, Gavin!" Stephen said, quickly picking up his brother before he could get to the sandbox, "We're putting our shoes on."

"What? Whyyyy?" Gavin whined, looking up at his brother and squirming in his hold. He did not want to be picked up! He wanted to play!

"There's acorns everywhere, do you wanna get your feet stabbed? Absolutely not!"

"But Stephen!"

"Nah, nah nah, don't you 'But, Stephen' me!" Stephen insisted, bringing him back inside and setting the six-year-old on the tile floor. "That's Hosuh bun's territory."

"What did you say, Stephen?" Hosuh's voice called from the kitchen, and the scent of him beginning to fry up some beef cubes for shish-kebabs, their dinner, wafted into the doorway.

"Nothing, Hosuh!"

"He said you say- mff!" Stephen covered Gavin's mouth, chuckling awkwardly to himself.

"Shush, Gavin, or you're gonna get us all in trouble. Do you want Hosuh to get upset?" He asked, and Gavin shook his head. He absolutely did not want Hosuh to get upset. "Good. That was called sarcasm; I didn't mean what I said."

He pulled his hand off Gavin's mouth, grabbing the child's shoes and handing them to him.

"Isn't that lying?" Gavin asked, sitting down before taking his socks out of his shoes. "Jay! Stephen's lyin-"

"I am not lying! I'm trying to teach sarcasm here and- Oh my God bro what the fu-"

"Don't finish that sentence, Stephen! Child!" Jay yelled from the stairs. There was another rule, which Gavin didn't understand, in their house. Sometimes, one of them would begin to say something, starting with sh or fu, and suddenly one of the others would shush them. Gavin sometimes wondered what they were going to say, but the act was often enough that he didn't think anything of it.

"We'll talk about this later, Jay!" Stephen groaned, but as he saw that Gavin finished getting his shoes on and was standing up, ready to run out of the door at the first sign of being allowed to, he decided to be lenient and shutting up about the whole manner. Their earlier conversation had probably put Gavin under a lot of stress, so it would be for the best to let him play. At least he wasn't crying anymore, thank God.

But they had seen a few bruises here and there on Gavin without a good explanation. None of them really believed that Gavin wasn't being bullied, though there was a chance that he just didn't understand what they meant when they asked if he was being mean. They were just kids, trying to raise another kid to the best of their ability, and Stephen was grateful that his boyfriends were willing to help him with his brother. He could never repay them for that kindness.

Sure, there were plenty of adults who were willing to help them; Ms. Alice, in particular, had helped them ever since the incident happened and they had to move in with Jay when Gavin was only two years old. Hosuh moved in two years later.

Stephen smiled as he helped Gavin to build a sandcastle, watching him play in the mud and poke at bugs, even joining in on the fun once his little brother threw a small amount of mud at him. Even as a little melancholy hole opened within his heart.

_________________

The next morning was a lot less serious. Today, they had a short to-do list before school tomorrow, including grocery shopping and a few supplies for one of Gavin's take-home projects. That meant they had to take the car. Gavin liked when they got to take the car, because he got to look as the world zoomed by. It was like the bus, but more fun!

Jay always drove the car, with Stephen in the front seat, and Hosuh always sat next to Gavin. If they were taking the car, that meant they were also probably going to the toy store.

Whenever the three of them had a little extra spending money, they always let Gavin pick out a toy or an activity. With both Stephen and Jay working part-time jobs after school, on top of Jay's family paying for the house and all those bills, it was at least once a month that they could take such a trip.

The toy shop was their first stop, it always was, in the case that Gavin couldn't decide what he wanted. That had been the case over the summer, and their ice cream had melted in the car, which was a nightmare to clean up.

As it was a weekend, the store was moderately busier than usual, with parents being dragged around by their kids. Gavin looked around excitedly, eyes sparkling as he held Hosuh's hand. In public, they all decided it was best for him to stay with Hosuh or Jay, as the chaotic energy the brothers had together was too much for their bank account or sanity to handle. The last time Stephen had watched his brother in one of these stores, it had ended with Gavin climbing one of the shelves and falling from six and a half feet up as Stephen laughed. Not an event any of them were ready to repeat.

Hosuh looked down at Gavin, smiling softly at the child. "Okay, Gavin. Pick one toy that you want, but there's a rule this time." As he spoke, Gavin seemed confused, furrowing his eyebrows in curiosity.

"But why?" He asked, his voice verging on a whine.

"Because, bluebear," Jay sighed, patting his head, "You have a nasty habit of throwing your toys. So the rule is simple; if it's soft, you can get it."

"Hmmm... Okay!" Gavin smiled, "I can go now?"

Hosuh nodded, walking off into the store properly with Gavin. Stephen and Jay stayed back towards the front of the store, with Jay gently taking Stephen's hand in his own.

"You've been awfully quiet. Something wrong?"

"Nah. I'm fine, just tired. You didn't have to study all night for homework."

"Ha! Maybe if you'd done it after getting home from work on Friday, it wouldn't have been so bad. Or you could've asked for help."

"Absolutely not! No way is Stephen asking for help!" The purple-haired teen huffed, walking off towards Hosuh and Gavin who were looking at the stuffed animals. Gavin seemed particularly interested in a giant teddy bear the size of his brother, the perfect size to curl up with next to the couch.

Stephen laughed, pointing at the bear, "Hey! That's bigger than you are, Gavin! You can't even pick it up."

Gavin pouted, "I can! Watch me!"

"Don't goad him, Stephen." Hosuh sighed, watching as the child attempted to grab the bear only to find himself unable to reach it. By a lot. Considering it was on top of the shelf, not even Jay or Stephen would be able to reach it without issue, and Hosuh realized it was probably designed that way to keep kids from grabbing at it.

"I can't get ittt..."

"See? I told you!"

"Hosuhbunny?" Gavin turned to the silver-haired teen and the two teenagers choked on air, drawing the attention of a few other customers. That was the nickname that Stephen called Hosuh whenever he was in a very, very cuddly mood, though it was usually shortened to just the animal title. "Help?"

"I'll go get someone to get it down- Uh, Stephen? Don't let Gavin climb on the shelves again."

"I got this Hosuh, I don't know what you're talking about, I'm awesome."

"Riiiiigght." Hosuh rolled his eyes, exiting the aisle and heading off to find an employee. Stephen sighed, looking down at his little brother, then smiled again.

"C'mon, let's go to the play area." He suggested, and Gavin beamed. There was a little play area at the back of the store for kids to play in while their parents walked around the store, so that they didn't bother them while they shopped or in the case that it was a gift. So Stephen walked with his brother to the play area and sat on one of the few benches they had for adults. The urge to grab for his phone was strong, and he was just a person, who soon found themselves staring at the screen. Every once and a while he glanced up at the group of kids to check on his brother.

The first thing Gavin noticed when they got to the play area was that there were quite a few kids from his class there. Not Anne, of course he wasn't that lucky, but instead there were his main bullies. A girl named Vivian his own age and three boys, the eldest of which he had a large bruise on his stomach from. With dread in his heart, he walked up towards them.

They couldn't hit him, not with the adults watching.

"It's the weirdo," They whispered to the other kids, "He's got three dads! The one with the purple hair is one of them! They're sick!"

"Sick? What? He looks nice..."

"Don't play with him, or you'll get sick too! Then you'll get your mommy sick, and she'll leave!"

Gavin was used to overhearing these kinds of talks. It happened every day in class. He walked over to the toy chest and grabbed a little cat plushie, worn from love and use, then sat down on the carpet. He usually had so much energy, so much want to play, but these kids always stole it from him by their words.

"Look! The weirdo has a kitty! Save it!" Vivian said, pointing at the cat plush, and Gavin held it close. No way! That plushie was his!

The three boys walked over to him, one of them grabbing at the cat.

"Give it!"

"No! It's mine!" Gavin huffed, holding onto it tightly, only to yelp as one of the kids gripped his hair and yanked Another took hold of his wrists and twisted, digging their nails in, causing a searingly stinging sensation across his wrists as he clung to the cat. "Ow! You're hurting me! Stephen!!" He didn't want to hurt them. He didn't want them to hurt him. He didn't want to be bad, he wanted to be good and not hurt anyone.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" He heard his brother say, and Gavin felt them let go. These kids knew better than to hurt him when the adults were looking, and they backed off. "Who the hell taught you that bullying was okay?"

"You're one of the weirdos! The sick ones!" One of the kids exclaimed after realizing who Stephen was. Immediately, they ran off to the other side of the play area, leaving Gavin and Stephen standing there. Gavin had tears streaming down his face, the pain still lingering. He hadn't wanted to be bad, he didn't want to make Stephen upset.

"Woah, Gavin, it's okay," Stephen said, kneeling down and wiping the child's tears. He looked around, seeking any of these children's parents, and saw Jay coming down one of the aisles. "Jay! C'mere!"

Jay was over to them before Gavin knew it, being scooped up into his arms protectively. It helped to stifle his cries, keeping them down so as not to get a noise complaint.

"Stephen, go look for Hosuh, then get their parents. They should be told."

Stephen didn't even bother arguing, instead just giving his brother a kiss on the head and walking up towards the front of the store. He'd expected something like this to happen eventually, if they kept coming out to this area. Of course, he enjoyed seeing his brother having fun, but he hated the looks they got whenever they walked around the mall. Because everyone knew the Ng boys.

He found the parents before he found Hosuh. Literally, bumping into them. A small group of the parents had gathered together at the front of the store, making small talk, while their kids were in the play area. He saw Hosuh talking with one of the employees, who he recognized as someone from their class, and walked up to his boyfriend.

"Oh, Stephen! Do you know-"

"The kids in the play are were bullying Gavin," Stephen interrupted, "They were pulling his hair and made him bleed." He watched as the color drained from both of their faces, horror crossing it.

"Is he okay?" Hosuh asked, his voice filled with worry, "I have bandages in the car but I don't- Who?"

"Jay's taking care of him. Talk to the parents for me so I don't end up screaming at them."

Hosuh nodded, "I got this. Stay with me?" He asked, reaching out to take Stephen's clenched hand in his own. They walked over to the group of parents, and once Hosuh started talking to them, Stephen noticed how they were more focused on him. Once Gavin's name was mentioned, before Hosuh had even brought up the idea of bullying, most of them lost the color in their faces.

Yeah, everyone knew the Ng boys. No, they didn't know them. They knew what happened to them. Stephen would never be able to forget the night which resulted in their current situation, and he was glad that Gavin did not know of the tale from that night. Of course, he'd been too young, barely even a year and a half old. He'd only recently learned to walk before that night.

"Stephen? Stephen?" Hosuh's voice broke through his thoughts, leading him back to the real world. "We need to talk to Gavin."

Stephen only nodded, taking a deep breath to find his voice. He could tell there would be a crash any day now, then he'd be back to normal. All the stress from school, of caring for Gavin, and remembering the sight in the living room- He needed to breathe. Right.

Gavin was still sniffling, hiding his face in Jay's chest. His wrists were lightly bleeding, likely from where one of the kids had dug their nails in, and an employee was explaining what happened to the kids. He couldn't help but overhear what the parents were telling their children, who were saying that he was a sick weirdo because he had three dads.

"No, sweetie, he has a brother. Their parents are dead. Sure, his brother is weird and maybe sick, but he isn't. You're going to apologize on Monday when you see him in class."

Dead? They were dead? He just had always thought he didn't have any. He had Stephen, Jay, and Hosuh. That was what he needed. He was so confused.

He felt himself being carried back out to the car, set in his booster seat, buckled in and he heard the car being locked after the others climbed in.

"Gavin, you said the other kids were nice. Is that... Normal?" Hosuh asked, "For them to be that mean to you?"

With a sniffle, Gavin nodded. "Ye-es..."

"Is it because you have three dads?"

"That's wh-uh-t they say." He felt a soft tissue being pressed against his face, and he quickly blew into the tissue.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Stephen asked, trying not to yell in the car, "We could've done something! We- We could've- We could've helped!"

"Stephe-"

"No, Hosuh, I love you but Stephen's right here." Jay sighed, "We are responsible for Gavin, so we need to make sure this isn't happening. I only have three questions."

"Yeah, and what are those?"

Jay and Stephen turned in their seats, facing the six-year-old in the backseat. Gavin was fidgeting in his seat, with Hosuh gently holding his hand for comfort and bandaging his wrists. They each had very different ways of raising Gavin, with Stephen usually being the fun one unless it came to his education or when he was under a lot of stress. Jay tended to be very strict, with his fun moments, though those would likely shine through more as Gavin got older. The blonde wasn't exactly known for being good with kids, but he certainly wasn't bad at it. Hosuh was gentle, soft and sweet and loving. He could be strict if he needed to, especially when someone messed with the few rules he had in place or when people were being lazy, but he loved to just spend time with them.

He was probably trying to make up for what he lacked when it came to his own upbringing, Stephen realized.

"One. Gavin, how long have these kids been picking on you?" Jay asked, his voice deceptively calm as it held the rage underneath.

Gavin reached up and wiped away his tears, sniffling softly. "Since last year... Parents day."

Right. Parents day. Stephen, as Gavin's legal guardian, had gotten an exemption on going to school that day to instead attend Gavin's, where he'd needed to explain that he wasn't raising Gavin alone. That his boyfriends were helping. It was their fault Gavin was being bullied.

"Right. Next, why didn't you tell us yesterday?"

"They're nice... But not nice to me. I didn't wanna worry you all about me. You're all so busy, 'nd I-"

"Alright. And finally, Gavin, you know we're never too busy for you, and that you can tell us anything, right? It doesn't matter if you're hurting, if you're scared, or if you did something really bad. We'll get through it together. If you're sad, then we'll smile until you can again."

"I know, Jay. I'm sorry. I love you all."

"We love you too, little cub." The three teens said in unison, Jay and Stephen sitting properly as Jay started the car. Grocery shopping went by fast, faster than it ever had before, and before they knew it they were safely home.

Sure, their living situation was a little odd, but it worked for them. They all had different ways of getting to this point in their lives, with Jay's only technically being voluntary, and they wouldn't change it for the world.

________

Someone was in their house. His mother handed him his baby brother, pushing him into the closet. "Stay here, Stephen. If I don't come to get you in ten minutes, please, run. Take your brother and take him away from here, take care of him."

"What? Mom, I don't understand," Stephen said, looking sleepily up at his mother. Gavin was asleep, his yellow pajamas a little messy as he clung to his brother, "What's wrong?"

"Just listen for once in your life, and stay quiet. I love you." The doors closed. He could see through the slits in the wood, he could see his mom carefully exit the bedroom. From down the hall, he heard gunshots. No one was supposed to have such easy access to guns, not that he knew, and he heard yelling. Clinging to his brother, he counted out the minutes in their closet, taking deep breaths to keep from waking up the infant in his arms. If his mom didn't come to get him, where would he go?

He could go to Jay's. Jay lived mostly alone, with his rich adoptive family being off across the country for the majority of the year. He had a few rules, including that their neighbor would check in on him at least once a day until he started high school, that he was never to get below an A in any class, and once he got into high school he would need to pay for his own food. He would also need to pay for his own college, but they would help if he actually needed it.

But Jay wasn't good with kids. Hosuh was.

Three minutes left.

He heard his mother scream, a foreign voice demanding something. Stephen covered his little brother's ears as carefully as he could, adrenaline running through his veins.

Someone was going up the stairs. He could hear the telltale creak of the third step, the shuddering moan of old wood of the top hall. Stephen knew he needed to move. He needed to move and he needed to move now. He opened the closet as carefully as he could, tiptoeing out, grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand before continuing out of his carpeted room as he heard his heart beating in his ears. He caught a brief glance of the living room doorway, a pool of red seeping out towards the hall. His entire body jolted as he remembered his mother's words. Run. Take care of Gavin.

He ran off towards the back door, which was unlocked from the inside, and he carefully opened it. There was ringing in his ears, he didn't stop running even as the acorns pressed onto his feet, fumbling to stay balanced. He could hear the police sirens, but he couldn't think, he could only move and hold Gavin. The loud noises had awoken him, and he was crying loudly as Stephen attempted to dial Hosuh's number. It was only nine, he should still be awake, why won't he pick up-!

"Stephen? It's so late, what's wrong?" Hosuh's tired voice came over the phone.

"Hosuh? Thank fuck! Meet me at Jay's house, no time to explain, I promise- Please!"

"I'll be there. Do you need me to stay on the line?"

"No, just go!"

Hosuh hung up the phone without a second question. He'd likely heard the panic in his voice, heard Gavin's unstoppable crying and decided it best not to argue. He lived closer to Jay's house than Stephen did, anyway.

Stephen didn't stop running until he got to Jay's house, his friends meeting him at the door with a shocked expression. He quickly handed the crying Gavin to Hosuh, who seemed quite perplexed as to why he was holding his best friend's little brother.

"Watch him, calm him down." He said before running into the living room and fumbling to turn on the television.

"What're you doing, Stephen? What happened?" Jay asked, walking into the living room behind his friend only for the television to ring out over the local news.

"I'm standing here at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Ng, who have been dead in their house."

Stephen jolted awake with a shock, tears streaming down his face. He hadn't dreamed of that night in at least a year, since the last big crash of stress and anxiety. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, and he felt the gentle hands of his boyfriends holding him. Hosuh was in front of him, wiping away the tears and holding his hand, whispering soft words of comfort to him. It always left Stephen in awe afterward, how someone who'd been disowned by his own family had so much will to stay calm and not get upset at him.

"It's okay, Stephen, you're here. You're safe. We've got you. Gavin's okay. It's all gonna be okay," He whispered as Jay wrapped his arms around Stephen and kissed his cheek, then his forehead, humming a soft song. He knew how much they enjoyed listening to him singing, be it a small hum or a full ballad, they loved the sound of his voice.

Stephen wasn't able to form words through his sobs, holding onto the sheets even as he felt something was missing from his arms, but their actions helped diminish the loss of sleep before it became too much. They did have school in the morning, after all. By the time he was calm, nearing twelve-thirty in the morning, the three of them were ready to fall into sleep's sweet embrace once again.

The door creaked open then, and Stephen's nerves filled him with a short burst of adrenaline. Quickly he turned to the doorway, seeing a small figure scuttling into the room.

"I- Uh... I had a nightmare. Can I stay with you three?" Gavin asked, sleep slurring his words, though the tear marks on his cheeks proved his words true.

"Sure, buddy. C'mon, you can be in between Stephen and I," Jay said, motioning for Gavin to climb up onto the bed as he let go of Stephen so he could turn over. Hosuh instead wrapped his arms around his waist, nuzzling against his neck as the child climbed into their bed. Stephen quickly pulled his baby brother into a hug, the feeling of being lost fading away. This was his family, the four of them together.

#Actuallyoddplan #Jaystosuh #Happy ending #TW: Bullying #TW: minor death #Angst #Fluff and angst #Gavin is a baby #Gavin Ng #Stephen Ng #Hosuh Lee #tw: nightmare death #My writing #Gift fic #I really hope this is okay #For every ounce of angst there is a pound of fluff

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fanpom-imagines · 5 years

Text

Imagine telling Jon about your people’s past and why they’re known as dragon slayers before the Battle of Winterfell. (Part 3)

Masterlist [Part 1] [Part 2] (Part 3) [Part 4]

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Words: 2372

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gifs aren’t mine.

If you want to be tagged in my taglist send me a message

(Female Reader)

I heard a knock coming from the door to the room I had been given. Thinking it was the Queen I sat up and stood tall, putting the book I had been reading down, but I hear one of my guards, Robert Vadin announcing Jon Snow’s arrival. I sighed in relief at not having to face her and sat back down in my seat and told the guard that Jon could enter. As I see the door open I see Robert give a cold glare to Jon while he walks in to enter, and his gaze did not leave the Northerner till he closed the door behind him.

We looked at each other for a moment before Jon started off, “He doesn’t seem to like me much, does he?”

“Ser Vadin is like that. He, just like you Northerners, do not take so kindly to outsiders, but if you show to him you can be trusted and that your heart is in the right place he may not glare at you so much.” A slight smile came to my lips as my words earned a slight huff of laughter from him.

“Why do you call us Northerners? Aren’t your people northerners as well?” Jon asked curiously. I motioned for him to sit down upon the seat in front of the one I was sitting on which he gladly accepted.

“This may take a while to explain,” I told Jon in a warning like tone.

“Well, the White Walkers may be arriving shortly at our doorsteps so might as well tell me a story because it may be our last day,” he told me as he leaned slightly backward in his seat to get comfortable as his eyes glowed in wonder at what I had to day.

As I was not sure where to start with my explanation; so I started at the beginning.“It is true that just like most Northerners my people were also descendants of the First Men and we lived in the North along with your folk in the northeast part of the North before the time of the Andals and Aegon the Conqueror. We had sailed the seas up far north even past Skagos, which is where it is rumored that they have unicorns and the island that is closest to the one nearest to where we were exiled, as you know.

“When the Andals came they never came up north because the First Men and the Children of the Forest had kept them from there and as you know that is the reason for why there are still weirwood trees in the North. Just like you my people stick to the beliefs of the Old Gods rather than adapting the Gods of Old Valyria that Aegon the Conqueror and his people brought over.”

“How did your quarrels with the Targaryens came to be? How did your people even slay dragons?” Jon asked curiously and I could see his eyes becoming more clouded with curiosity as I went on.

“Well there was a family from Old Valyria before Aegon’s time who had also been exiled from their home and needed a place to stay and they had ended up on our shores. My people ruled the lands above Karhold and around the Bay of Seals reaching all the way up to the East Watch. These people who ended up on our shores were of two houses, or what was equivalent to a house in Old Valyria, called Suvion, which in High Valyrian means ice, and Perzys, which means fire. Our people welcomed them as we took pity upon them and then later on our people married into each other’s bloodlines, which is why I know Valyrian as well. So then during the rule of Ronnen the V of House Daishar, which as you know is my house, had heard a rumor of ice dragons up north past the Wall. So in search of these mighty beasts he went. He had sailed off leaving his wife, Vaehra Suvion, and three children at home with the promise of returning with a dragon’s scale, and though Vaehra believed in dragons since Old Valyria at the time was still thriving with dragons; yet she did not believe that a dragon such as the ones in the tales are true. She begged him not to go, but the Daishar are known to be stubborn and he ended up going nonetheless and left her to rule over the land till he returned. So then after a year around the moments of where not just Vaehra, but also the people started to lose hope in the return on their lord yet that’s when they heard the large booming sounds coming from the skies and the Valyrian’s knew those sounds all too well. There were four young dragons all white with blue eyes. They were the sizes of hound dogs and Ronnen V had walked off his boat with the fifth dragon on his shoulder. Yet, sadly only one ship out of the seven that had sailed off had returned. Some say the gains of the battle against the Ice Dragon outweigh the losses others on the other hand disagree.

“When Ronnen V returned with his dragons he gave one to each of his children, Brann, Seiera, Laegor, and gave one to his wife and the one that laid atop his shoulder was his own, and from then on my people had dragons. Then during the reign of Aegon the Conqueror where our people revolted against them. We had many battles with the Targaryen’s lasting till the The Dance of Dragons, but they were the rulers of a vast kingdom and had endless supply as well as their dragons were larger and bred for battle while ours were raised to be more gentle even though the nature of ice dragons are more ferocious than those of the Targaryens were s they have never had contact with humans, well that we know of, till my people came across them, while the dragons from Valyria have been living amongst and bred by those people for centuries.”

“So they had banished your people after killing your dragons?”

“They did not only kill our dragons they also killed many of our people, about two-thirds, and exiled us to the island a little ways from Skagos and past teh Bay of Seals. When we had gotten there it was only wilderness and we had to start from the beginning, and the ones who got our lands were the other houses of the North, like the Karstarks and such, who were too scared to fight the dragons which is understandable because there seems to be nothing more terrifying than dragons it seems.”

“You Grace I’ve seen the dragons Daenerys has and I’ve been across the Wall to what we know as the End of the World and a White Walker will always cause more fear in me than a dragon.” Jon said looking solemnly out the window. The poor man has probably been through more than most would have in five life times.

“I cannot argue with that. I still have not caught a glimpse of them yet. I think they’re the only things I looked forward to when coming here.” I said giving him a reassuring smile.

After a long moment of silence I started to contemplate why I he was so curious about my people, but it does make sense we are not well known to the people on the mainland and probably are only remembered in song and by books in the Citadel and Winterfell, and tomorrow may be our last day.

“The dragons are a magnificent sight,” Jon sighed out in remembrance.

I tilted my head at him curiously, “Have you ridden on one?” Jon replied as he gave me a Humble nod in reply. My eyes widened in astonishment, “What? You must tell me how it was like.”

“Yes, I have and it was quite exhilarating yet fascinating at the same time” he once again smiled at the memory, but it turned into a frown as he seemed to zone out.

“What is bothering you, Your Grace?” I asked him, using his kingly title, which had definitely got his attention and caught him off guard as his head whipped to me.

“What do you mean?” Jon asked perplexed. Surprisingly, he didn’t correct me when I called him that yet while I traveled with him he had insisted on me calling him ‘Lord Jon’. What has changed?

“Something seems to be on your mind that is bothering you. What is it?”

Jon let out a sigh, “It is true that something has been on my mind as of late, yet I cannot tell you. I am sorry, Your Grace.”

“No need to apologize, I understand, but you may want to get it off your chest before the White Walkers storm through the gates because it may be your last chance. Maybe not to me, but I’m pretty sure you have many people here who are willing to listen.”

Jon didn’t reply and just looked thoughtfully at his hands.

“Why do you refer to me as a king? I have bent the knee to Daenerys yet you still refer to me as King, why is that?” Jon asked as he swerved the direction of the conversation..

“Why do you refer to me as Your Grace if you already see Daenerys as your queen?” I asked him, but yet I still answered him nonetheless with a sigh, “I refer to you as a king because even though you may not have the name and you may be a bastard I see you as a king, even though I have only known you for about a week, I see you as a man who is worthy to be a king maybe not by name or by blood, but by heart and soul.”

At my reply Jon stared at me wide eyed, but then nodded as he contemplated my words.

“But it’s also to see the irritated look on the Queen’s face.”

That got Jon to let out a bubble of laughter.

The two of us sat in silence for a couple of more moments before Jon stood up ready to take his leave.

“I shall take my leave now, Your Grace,” Jon said as he bowed to me and I did so inreturn.

“Where to, or whom to?” I asked curiously.

“To get something off my chest,” He smiled at me sadly and made his way out the door.

I watched him leave and almost burst out laughing at his awkwardness as he tried to avoid the eyes of Ser Vadin when he passed by said man, but it is understandable as Robert Vadin was a large man who stood at a height of six feet and six inches with bright red hair and dark brown eyes that just seem to stare through your eyes and straight into your soul. Though a terrifying man, Robert was only cold and terrifying to ones who he does not know of or understand. Poor man has been through a lot through his life yet still remains one of my closest allies and friends besides the man who I had deemed as my Hand, Robin Darath, who has not just served my House loyally, but has also been a close friend to my late father whom had passed away from an unknown illness leaving me by myself to rule since my mother had passed away in my early years of childhood leaving me to be the last of the Daishar bloodline.

Robin Darath came in with a wine bottle just as my mind started to slip into deeper thoughts.

“Your Grace this may be our last day here on this earth and I do not think anyone should spend it alone.” Robin said as he placed down the two goblets on the table next to my seat. He filled them up to the brim and handed one to me and then sat down.

“By the powers of Ice and Fire,” Robin and I said in unison. I chugged down my wine as did Robin and then proceeded to refill our goblets once more. It was tradition for my people to chug down the first filled glass or goblet that they’re offered as to not seem rude and to show that they appreciate the hospitality and that they trust the honesty of the alcohol giver in drinking it as fast as possible instead of suspiciously staring and contemplating if it is poisoned or not.

I looked out upon the night sky and without even thinking voiced my thoughts, “Summer brings fire and winter brings ice, the time of winter is upon us, and it seems like this time it will stay.”

“Wise words, Your Grace.” Robin nodded to me as he poured me another glass.

After taking another drink I turned to him once more, “You know after my father passed you have been the only person I could call family, and I appreciate that Lord Darath.”

“No need to thank me (Y/N), I see you as a niece and sometimes as if you were the daughter I never had so you’ve already given me your thanks by allowing me to be your Hand.” He stated simply after once again taking another large gulp.

I just smiled slightly, but it quickly faded as I heard shouts coming from outside.

“Well it seems the time has come,” I said as both him and I stood up. I took up my sword and fastened its sheath around my waist.

“So it would seem,” Robin said as the two of us made our way through the halls with Ser Vadin in tow.

“Ser Vadin, gather our men and make sure everyone is at their stations.” I commanded as Robert went off to find them.

“Are you sure you are ready to fight, Your Grace, we may die?” Robin said as he looked down on me and I looked out towards the dark night to see for the first time in my life, the White Walkers.

“At least I will not die alone, but rather side by side. Together.”

Talglist:

@bee-wrecker @boogiebunnies @precious-bands-love @supernaturaltrashy @immortal-imagination @mikariell95 @saoirsewhittle @jinx-is-fire

#jon snow x reader #jon snow #got #got x reader #got imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #sansa stark imagine #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen imagine

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youremypride · 5 years

Text

Of Games & Sex (M)

➤ your wonderful boyfriend tells you another way he could enjoy playing games even without his precious gaming consoles and computer.

↳ character: jungkook x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff, gaming! au

↳ warnings: fingering, squirting, comparison to gaming consoles

↳ word count: 2401 words

↳ a/n: i just had this sitting in my drafts, might as well finish it since i was playing way too much of sims these past few weeks.

The living room was blaring with constant sounds of fire arms and bombs going on every five seconds and not once had it been peaceful ever since your boyfriend had returned home to your shared apartment. His hobby of playing video games was bearable for you until he decided to hook up the new audio system he bought a week ago.

He had argued that the both of you could take advantage of it – you being a movie fanatic and him a video game addict. You would have agreed with the idea if it weren’t for him hogging the entire entertainment system for the past few days now.

Instead, you end up using his computer game setup to watch all your VODs since it streamed faster and you had the 32-inch monitor all to yourself. After your third movie for the night, your stomach started rumbling – hunger and the craving for pizza starts crawling up your throat.

You head out of Jungkook’s office and walk towards the fridge to find that the leftover pizzas from yesterday was gone and on the coffee table – your boyfriend scoffing down every slice of those meaty dough pies.

Thankfully you were smart enough to buy a third box and hid it in the secret compartment of the fridge – one where Jungkook would never be bothered to bend down to search for food. Grabbing a plate, you put three slices of them pepperoni pizzas before cracking a cold cola to pair with it.

You plopped down on the couch beside Jungkook – whose eyes had not been away from the screen for hours it seems. You could see the whites had now been painted in light pink almost turning red.

Finally, the ‘game over’ sign appeared on the screen and Jungkook sighed and groaned in defeat, throwing the controller aggressively on the coffee table.

“Hey!” You patted his thigh. “Be careful with them! Do you remember how much that cost?! We wouldn’t want another incident like before to happen again now do we?”

Jungkook smirked. “Well, if that incident happens again,” He grabs your hand with the pizza slice in hold and leads it towards his mouth. He moaned in delight when his tongue came in contact with sweet dough. “There’s always another way for me to play my game.”

“Yeah? And what’s that? Your PC? Not a chance, old man. You promised me a week with that bad boy when you wanted me to stop complaining about you hogging the flat screen.”

“And when did I promise you that?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“When you were too busy with your precious game and you just said anything to get me to leave you alone.” You clicked your tongue and shot him a playful wink. “Can’t break a promise once promised, Jungkook. Your words.”

“Oh baby. All the more reason for me to play video games with you.” Now you’re the one who’s confused. “You see baby, there are three things in this world that I love the most. Three things that have the same functions and the same features.”

“What does that have to do with me?” You asked.

Jungkook leans in with his arms resting on the back of the sofa. “One of the three things include you of course. The game console, my superior PC and my adorable little girlfriend, Y/N.”

You laughed, appalled by the answer your boyfriend just gave you. “Me? You must be joking. How do I have the same functions and features as your entertainment friends?”

“All three of you have buttons – buttons in which every button I press enables me to defeat my enemies and win my gaming arounds, control my player to go where I want them to go and even increase or decrease the sound of my game – whether I want it soft or loud. It goes the same for you, baby.” He explains but it only leaves you in a loop of confusion.

He groans and rolls his eyes when he looks at your expression. He grabs the plate in your hand and puts it down on the table, standing up and tugging you up with him as he leads you towards your bedroom.

“Well since words can’t explain it, how about I show you instead?” He pushes you down gently on to the bed as he crawls on top of you, careful not to crush your delicate body under his weight.

He takes your right hand and licks off the remaining crumbs from the pizza, sucking them clean with his mouth as he moans in delight. “Mmm...pizza does taste good on you, baby.”

“As much as I like to thank you for cleaning me up, that’s really unsanitary, Jungkook.” You complained. He chuckles, “You weren’t complaining about unsanitary things when I clean up your wet dripping pussy the last time we had sex. Now, stop talking and let me play my game, beautiful.”

He pulls your arms away from your chest and slides his hand up and down the sides of your hip – goosebumps forming on your skin when in contact with his cold hand. It was his way of keeping you calm and relax before having sex. Slowly he begins unbuttoning your pyjama top from the bottom until it reveals two beautiful hills and a valley in between.

One thing to note, Jungkook was a breast kind of guy and he loves marvelling and reeling in the beauty of your perky little tits resting on your chest. He tells you how your areola looks like the shape of a heart which you think was stupid and cute in a way. The best part of it all was that they fit so perfectly in his hands – sometimes playing it like a mould of clay, as a stress ball and even cupping them at night when he couldn’t sleep.

Using his thumbs, he pressed them against your nipple and rubs them in circles. You moan at the wonderful feeling as your sensitive nipples begin to harden under his touch. “Jungkook...mmm....” Suddenly he starts to flick them quickly using his index fingers and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, the friction increasing the heat of your pulsating pussy.

With your nipples in between his thumbs and fingers, he pinches them and pulls them like it was the tip of a balloon. “Look baby, look how hard your nipple got.” He giggles. “Just by controlling your nipple, your entire body is shaking. That’s how it functions, your nipple works as a joystick that lays on top of the controller – known as your breasts. See, it made you all good and horny. I bet that last combo got you leaking so much already, isn’t that right?”

Jungkook cups each of your breast in his hands again – squeezing them as he moves your breasts in all sorts of direction – up, down, left, right. “You know this one time I went to an arcade, I found this unusual strange machine that had balls for the controller. I don’t know what it is but as soon as I placed my hands on it, it reminded me of your soft breasts.

Fuck, I almost got a boner from a machine. Thank god my brothers didn’t notice the little tent forming in my jeans.”

You whined from the pain of your breasts but it felt so good that you begged Jungkook not to stop. He starts chanting out combo moves and mumbling weird things he always does whenever he plays his game.

“Fuck, yeah. I’m gonna slay this. I’m a fucking champion, that’s right. I’m gonna win this, I’m gonna win this.” He stutters over his words after that, quick to notice that he had started to grind hard cock against your clothed pussy. The material of his sweats was so thin you could see it almost tearing up – begging to be release from the discomfort of the clothing.

You sneakily slit a hand towards his cock without Jungkook knowing. Unfortunately, a hand had grabbed your wrist away from it. Jungkook was staring at you with a grin on his face. “No, no baby. Not yet. The time will come soon, just not right now.”

“If not now, then when? I wanna play with your joystick too, pretty please.” You begged, noticing the Cheshire smile he sends you after calling his cock a joystick. “Ah, so my dick is now your controller?”

You nodded, “Yeah, if my boobs are a controller, your dick is a controller too.”

“Fair enough.” In one swift movement, he pulls down your shorts along with your panties, showing off the glistering sweetness pouring out from your honey pot. “Oh my god, would you look at that.” He lowers his head at the same level as your pussy. Jungkook spreads your pussy even wider with his fingers, gawking at it like it’s the prettiest flower he had ever seen – even when he’s seen it numerous times.

“Jungkook, please.”

“What is it, baby?”

“I want your fingers inside me. I need your pretty fingers, please.” You hated how he’s been inspecting your pussy for the past few seconds and hasn’t even done anything to it yet. Jungkook once explain to you that it takes time to appreciate art just like his brother, Taehyung had taught him. He even called your pussy a masterpiece, craved with such details and perfection. You didn’t know how to react to his compliment of your pussy but could only mutter out, “I like your dick too. It’s beautiful and pleasing, just like you.”

“Oh no.” A shock expression appears on Jungkook’s face.

“What? What is it?” You asked.

“My coin, it’s stuck.” Before you could comprehend what he was saying, he enters two of his fingers inside you, curling them up like he was trying to grab the “coin” inside your pussy.

“Fuck, I can’t reach it. Y/N, your pussy’s so tight, you’re breaking my fingers.”

“But it feels so good.” You retorted as you busy your hands with your breasts.

“Oh yeah. Maybe if I press her, your pussy would give me my change back.” You felt his thumb pressing against your clit – pressing it harder and faster until you started squirting out your juices on him.

His sweats were now wet and stained and you could see an angered look on his face. “Baby, I didn’t say you could cum.”

“But I can’t help it, you made me do it. It’s your fault for losing your change.” You smirked at him. You pondered what he was going to do next until he settles his hands on your thighs and rubs them softly.

“I think...I think I need a drink to quench my thirst.” He sighs. You pouted as you sit up and leans towards him. “You’re leaving? Don’t go, I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your permission to cum. Please don’t leave, Jungkook.” You tugged on his shirt.

“Who said I was leaving?” He pushes you down on the bed and enters in his fingers again. This time round, he angles his head near you pussy and presses your clit like before. With a strong curl of his fingers, your hips bucked upwards – Jungkook quickly placing his mouth against your pussy and drinking in your juices you had squirted out.

You see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down – drinking every last drop of your milky cum to satisfy his thirst. Once he was done, he licked the remaining juices that were leaking out.

“Mmm...tastes so much better than Gatorade. Alright time for our next game.” Jungkook takes off his shirt and pulls down his sweats and boxers so he was now naked like you. He switches position with you as he places you on top of him.

“In this game, you’re going to race with the others towards the finishing line. So, ride them up, cowboy. Or should I say, cowgirl.”

“You want me to ride you?”

Jungkook nodded, “Of course, I’m your horse.” He holds his cock for you and wiggles it. “Insert coin to start the game.” Signalling his cock to your pussy as a coin slot.

“Oh my god, how do I even put up with your bullshit, Jungkook.”

“You love me, that’s why.”

You eased down, taking his cock inside of him as you get comfortable with the feeling. Jungkook groans deeply, “Mmm, fuck. You feel so warm. We should do cockwarming more often. My cock get’s super cold from the air conditioner these days. I think your pussy makes a good heater for him; don’t you think?”

“Stop talking and pleasure me already.”

“Oh, no baby. I’m just a horse. You’re gonna have to pleasure yourself on your own. Come on, ride me. Ride me into the sunset, to that finish line. Yee-haw!” He slaps your ass and buckles you forward for a head start as you do all the work – grinding faster against him to get off from his cock.

“Faster baby, faster. You’re losing. You gotta keep going if you wanna catch up, if you wanna cum. You’re in third place now. You can’t cum if you lose this race, baby.” He motivates you.

“How can I win if my horse is slacking and I’m doing all the work. Now faster dammit. Is this how I train you to be? All those long nights of training aren’t working if your stroke game is weak as hell.” You mocked him just for the hell of it.

It seemed to work because now the pace was going twice as fast then before and slowly increasing in speed as you screamed and whined into an uttering mess. You could feel Jungkook’s cock hitting against your walls and the slowburn to release.

“Almost there, almost there.” Jungkook exclaims. “Ah...ah....ah....” With one strong last thrust, he creampies you, filling you up with the sweet vanilla cream until your pussy leaks from the overflow.

Harsh sharp pants were the only thing that was heard in the room. Tiny beads of sweats had appeared on both of your foreheads from all the exciting games you had played.

“That was fun. Let’s do this again.” The both of you laughed as you fall beside him – Jungkook wrapping an arm around you as he pulls you closer to him.

“What game do you suggest we play next?”

“How about, blow wind blow?”

“Blow wind blow? Blow what?”

“Blow my dick of course.”

#jungkook #bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #smut #fluff #bts oneshot #jungkook oneshot #jungkook scenario #gaming!au #bts scenario #jungkook x reader #x reader

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marixpedition · 4 years

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5 Risks That Gave 2019 a 180-Degree Turn

It is almost the end of the year, and here we are trying to look back at what basically happened in the year that is yet to end. I am guessing that it will either be a trip down to memory lane or a flashback of regrets. It is undeniable that we are all rooting for the former though.

2019 embodies a different personality for every person. I have scrolled through Instagram looking at people’s 2019 stories - travel, success, milestones, relationships, reconciliation, breakups, enlightenment, coffee, and more coffee. Some would say it is a year to be thankful for; some would say it is something they have to let go of. I am thinking each year boils down into two options: make or break.

I have known people who got married this year, had their first child, graduated from college or graduate school, got back with their ex, traveled a lot this year, just got promoted at work. Others I have known of lost a family member, ended a long time relationship, got cheated on, lost an opportunity they have been waiting for so long, was rejected by a person they liked so much or friendzoned, had a friendship gap because of little things that got out of hand.

Disclaimer lang puu: ‘di ako nagbablind item or nangchichismis.

Each year that passes for us is a mathematical problem that just got solved or just left us even more puzzled than we were in this life. If I were to assess my 2019, I choose the latter. There are so many things this year that got me asking myself, “ What the heck was that?” or “What on Earth just happened?”

I am about to share to you 5 personal things that happened in my year and what I learned from them. These are not just 5 personal issues or drama or whatever you would call that, but they are “risks” I took this year that made me tell myself, “Damn, girl! Ano? Rebel ghorl?”

1. Pixie Cut

Christmas of 2018 was when I finally had a short haircut after 3 years of having a long hair, but 2018 was yet to be shaken. It was because I finally decided, middle of this year, to get a pixie after a year of push and pull conflict with myself. I was too excited to get my hair chopped real short that time and also nervous. Why was I nervous? SIZT! I was about to get the shortest length of haircut in my entire life (so far). Who knows I might sport myself a baldy some day?

Do I consider it a risk? ENTIRELY. It was a huge risk because I was not fully confident that I will be able to pull it off after the magic of the salon blower expires. It turns out to be true. Reactions of the people I know were mixed. “Omg! You cut your hair? I love it!” “It suits you! How I wish I can do the same!” “What happened to your hair?!” “Why did you cut it?” “What are you doing with your life?” (Oo besh may ganun nagtanong, “Ano ginagawa mo sa buhay mo?”)

How did my family react to it? My brother - no comment. My mother - at first she was confused as to why I would cut my hair very short but she eventually accepted my decision. After months of having my pixie, she also got the same hairdo. Idol talaga ako ng nanay ko. ‘Di bale idol ko din naman siya. My father - he did not like it. He thought I looked like a “tomboy” in Filipino context. Jake Zyrus ganorn daw. Even my relatives from the province was not a fan of it especially the titas. I still love them, but I was on the verge of blaming the culture for what it has imposed on women with short hair and glorifying those with long ones. But I said to myself, WHATEVER.

That is when it hit me.

That is how it feels when you defy the norms without actually violating any rules. Cliché man pero EMPOWERED tayo mga mamshies. It was following my heart’s desire without compromising my faith and principles nor any relationship. It was a great leap for me - doing something new and beyond my comfort zone.

It reminded me of the day I put my life in the hands of the Lord. Many people would say it is very risky and scientifically unstable based on human calculations, but never in my entire life did I feel like I have done the right-est thing until I have surrendered everything to Him.

But why did I grow my hair again? P350 monthly haircut maintenance at Bench Fix Salon. Mahal, besh. Pulubi na ako.

2. 2nd Pair of Lobe and Helix Piercing

The second thing I will talk about is indeed RISKY. I admit that I have compromised few of my principles and relationships here. Example would be the promise to keep the body pure for it is the temple of the Holy Spirit, which means that having tattoos or cuts/wounds do not make the Lord pleased. Also, because I am an educator who is to be a role model in the academic institution, I must not have gotten a piercing that could push my students to do the same which obviously is not allowed in school.

Second best question is do I regret getting those piercings? Kind of. I am not the type of person who breaks the rules because I detest any form of hassle if it can be avoided. Now, having these piercings is so hassle when I am at work because they have to be removed then put on again at night to make sure the holes do not close.

Hassle talaga, mga besh. Wala eh. Priorities. I love my work more than my nice earrings and piercings.

Kathryn Bernardo made me get the piercings. Haaayy. I still love her though.

Do I recommend piercing? Yes, one pair only for girls. For boys, nah.

But to those who are wondering where I got them (hehe), I’ve had my first pair of lobe since I was a child. I don’t exactly remember where I got them. My second lobe piercings are from Unisilver which used an ear gun. It was more painful compared to needle piercing. My helix piercing was done by Iggy Boy Palma, a professional tattoo and piercing artist, at Whiplash Tattoo in BF Aguirre. Popular question: Which is safer and less painful? Definitely, needle piercing. I give it a 2/10 level of pain.

3. Bleaching my Hair

It was only this December that I finally decided to give my grown pixie a new look. I had the back part trimmed and gave in to the highlights club. At first, I was troubled by how it looked like after having it bleached. IT WAS SUPER LIGHT AND BRIGHT #ManokNaDilaw (yellowish orange). I got nervous because it looked bad on me, and I do not want to be called out again for another violation. So, I had the stylist layer the color with another coating which is gray.

Many people have asked how it was done. Let me share with you how simple it was. First, the stylist tied my hair in half pony tail. The loose part (untied) was the one that got bleached and colored gray. Finally, if you put the pony down, the light dye will be covered but is partially seen which is actually the idea of the style.

Was I happy about it? SUPER. I think this hairstyle is actually cool-subtle kind of rebel. It is not loud obvious, but it shows and stands out. Thank you, Pinterest.

Do I recommend it being done in a salon? Yes! Less hassle, and the stylists know better. However, if you have been coloring your own hair for years now, I guess you could do a DIY not to mention that it will be cheaper.

4. Getting Darker

What is wrong with being dark? NOTHING. But is there something wrong? Yes, many in this country believe that those who are fairer look better. Am I angry? No, but I am sad. Ganda ko kaya, char.

This year, I was blessed to have visited Boracay with my church friend. Despite it being crowded, it was a real paradise (Kala ko nga nasa abroad ako eh puro foreigners legit). The white sand was so fine just like flour. During the trip, I did bring with me sunscreen but not to make myself not get dark but to avoid sunburn. Yes. I was super ready to dive into the sea and just get all that rays on sunshine on my skin. When going on a beach trip, getting a tan is a must. I think tan looks pretty. To cut the long story short, I got darker intentionally lol.

Why is this a risk? I believe I have never been as dark as that in the past four years. After some time, our family went to our province in Quezon. Many of our relatives were like, “Ang itim mo!” “You got dark!” (Ano pa po? Keep it coming!) Well, it’s true, but what is saddening is the facial expressions that accompanied their remarks. Am I mad? Of course, not! It is a risk I do not regret at all. I do not mind getting dark as long as I get dark while on a beach trip and not here in Manila heat.

5. A New Work Responsibility

Now is some serious talk. (Kabado me sa part na ituu) What has changed this academic year for me? First, I got new additional tasks that are more challenging. Second, I am advising both students and teachers already. Third, I’m doing OTs again.

What exactly is this that I am talking about? It’s hard to explain, but let me put it this way. I used to be just an extra in a scene. Now, I am a some sort of a minor character who is tasked to help the protagonist achieve the goal and slay the enemies.

Am I happy about the opportunity? BIG YES. Is it mostly fun doing the job? No (nako nako talaga). There are more emotional heartbreaks, mental breakdowns, and sleepless nights. I have learned things in a not so easy way like how words could mean differently to the company and to the customer and how honest and transparent I must be to our clients. There were moments when I think I knew better, and it was so difficult to submit to authority. In those times, I was able to prove again that only God will remain consistent by my side. He is my constant help and supporter who encouraged me to choose what is right rather than what is convenient.

Did this opportunity put me in a better situation? Triple yes. I admit that the journey is an uphil climb. There is absolutely zero shortcuts (hirap kung hirap mga kapatid). However, God surrounded me with people who helped me mature, be graceful under pressure, control my emotions, laugh despite the hurt, and clearly see the beauty of being a teacher.

To end this post, I would like to just praise the God Almighty for His faithfulness in our lives. Getting through the 365 days is no joke. There were nights I thought of not going to work the next day because I had so many doubts and insecurities. Fortunately, I have only had one absence because I was sick. It was an ironman race to finish 2019. There were several curves and confusing directions which stressed me so much. Even though it was exhausting and tempting to give up, God pushed me to not stop moving until the end of the race (which of course I have not reached yet).

My 2019 is not as extravagant or controversially interesting as others’, but what I can say is that in those motivating experiences that happened in my year, I have earned a bigger faith in Him.

Philippians 4:4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice!

v. 6 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

v.7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

#2019 #yearend #goodbye2019 #yearendlearnings #reflections #newyear #thankyou #grateful #inspirational #spiritual #Christian

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veridium · 5 years

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the good, the bad, and the dirty

GET ON YOUR SUIT & TIES YA’LL BECAUSE WE’RE HEADING TO BEST-DRESSED HELL! IT’S GOING DOWN!

the start of this all // the previous episode

Special thanks to Panic! At The Disco for this segment song title reference. Oof.

The weekend is as it’s always been whenever she goes home: a brain-washing initiative for a Neo-Stepford Wives way of life. While she hides in her childhood bedroom playing “Beverly Hills” on blast to drown out the noise on the other side of the door, the night of the gala rolls around whether she likes it or not. If it wasn’t for Ellinor’s text updates about her weekend with Rutherford tol and Rutherford smol, she probably would have swan dove into her family pool from her second floor mini-balcony just to scare the shit out of her parents. Again.

She gets ready on her own, much to her Mother’s taste for opulence. A red, strapless velvet gown is her piece meal: not nearly her style, but not completely out of left field. When you can’t go black, you go red. Its ruching onto one side gives her a good illusion of a hourglass figure...or so Josephine recommended. She curls her hair and pins it to fall on one shoulder. Red lips and eyeliner sharper than her stiletto heels, and she’s done for caring. Traffic will be hell anyway, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t have her own way of escaping the evening. When she arrives and hangs up on her bluetooth call with Ellinor, the first presence she encounters is her Mom’s of course, because they had spent so much time apart. A whole hour.

Her Mother spends the brief time they have convened on the sidewalk in front of the doors to do the following: side-comment about her dress, wonder why she did not ride with them, and tell her not to do ‘unideal’ things since she is running for Mayor in the Spring so the family has to look presentable. Her step-father, Fred, comments that she cleans up nice, but it too scared of her wrath to do more. She will enter in after they do, to not risk an over-attached link; her preference, not theirs. While she stands off to the side of the main entrance and security detail, she can hear the music: smooth jazz, live, by the echo of it. Which means people will pretending they like jazz, know jazz, go see jazz. Fantastic; as if she wasn’t striving to puke into a ficus during the event anyway.

Then, as if her Champion on a shining Honda bike, Theia pulls up to the valet. She’s wearing a perfectly fitting pair of black straight pants and a matching blazer with a white pressed button-down shirt on the inside. A deep purple pocket square and black matte dress shoes cap off the outfit.

“Josephine work her magic on you, too?” She says with a laugh on her lips when she jogs up.

“Pff, yes, thankfully. You look...like you’re about to buy the entire gallery and tip the man...shit.”

“Yeah well, I gotta polish up once in a blue moon, right?”

“Ugh, a Blue Moon. That sounds so good right now.” Olivia slouches and leans against the cement block planter behind her, full of tropical plants that were undoubtedly planted mature rather than grown. Everything pretty and worth time was purchasable like that.

Theia smiles, and leans next to her. “Hey, come on you fembot. It’ll be over before you know it. Let’s go before we’re not fashionably late anymore. I have a beautiful woman in a pretty dress to see and feel undeserving of.”

The place is a madhouse. Whoever said “little Board gala” was lying out their ass. Oh, wait, it was her Mom. They enter on the first floor, but the locus it down a central, rather wide staircase made of glass and metal. People walk down is as if they’re floating down from on high -- and they probably believe it. At the base is a couple of photographers for local press, and a red carpet. A corny, overdone red carpet.

“God,” Olivia mumbles as they come down the walkway towards the stairs. “I match the carpet.”

Theia chuckles. “No, you out-do it. Come on, keep up the pace.”

“Theia, I’m in heels, and I’m tiny. Your step is four of mine, okay?”

“Then chop chop, miss!”

She elbows her in the side a bit, before rounding the open corner. The lights shining down from the tall ceiling up three floors are yellow and warm, but it doesn’t smooth over the icey, artificial feel of it all.

Elbowing through a few groups of people they stand at the top of the stairwell.

“Ready?” Theia sighs under her breath.

“No,” she responds. Then, with futility, they both start descending. Slow, not for the sake of her enjoyment, but for her shoes and gown skirt. Everything is bad as it is, until out the corner of her eye, a certain head and face flag her vision down like nothing else. Black hair. Pointed, strong nose. Oh God. Oh no.

“Shit,” Olivia curses low, veering in close to Theia. “Theia, I have to get out of here.” They’re still walking to save face, but she wants to run in the opposite direction and never return.

Theia looks out, searching. “What, what’s going on?”

“She’s here.”

“She?”

“She...she who--”

“Oh, shit. That’s her, isn’t it. Here, take hold of my arm.” She doesn’t wait for Olivia to do it, and takes her hand and hooks it under her arm, now looking like she’s escorting her. Olivia pulls back but then, as if on tragic cue, the woman she believes to be the one woman she never wants to see again looks up.

And then their eyes lock. Her heart stops, and her weight falls heavier onto Theia as she gets them down the stairs. It’s like she’s out in the open for a sniper to take her out, elevated above it all on her way down from the bullshit, wealthy heavens. It is a horrible, agonizing few seconds, before she breaks her stare and gazes down at the remaining steps. She’s too far away to see details, but her pristine, but slightly sullen complexion is enough.

People stop and stare up at them, and photographers pine mindlessly. They’re beautiful, well-dressed, and daughters of prominent families. Both rejects of the silver-spooners club, though, for different reasons. They stand together respectfully and wait for the fanfare to pass as it always does after a half minute; afterward, it’s a swift pull to the underside of the stairs and out of sight.

“Fuck! She wasn’t supposed to be here!”

“How did you know? Did she say as much?” Theia follows and stands tall while Olivia paces. Steady for her, as a friend would want to be. But in the moment she wishes Ellinor was there to match her pitch of over-worrying.

“I did--well, like, okay,” she pivots around, “the game was this weekend. The jocks party like heathens. She should be there. Ellinor said--” she stops herself. Ellinor did not say, either way, for sure. She just took the conversation for granted. She pulls out her phone and starts texting like a mad-woman:

--SOS. Cassandra is here!!!! I am losing my mind!!

Theia takes her phone just as the message sends, intervening. “Olivia, get yourself together.”

“No! No no, this is not ‘get together’ time. This is panic ti--”

“It is not! You are going to walk out there and mingle, and be hot, and not back down! Come on, you look dressed to kill. Now is the time, if there ever was one.”

A half-second of deliberation, then… “Nope! Running! Gonna--gonna r-r--”

“Liv!” her hands go to her shoulders. “You have been given a golden opportunity. The queers above have granted you this one fleeting moment of brilliant karma. You, alone, have the power to slay your demons once and for all. Are you going to cower and hide, or are you going to own it?”

Shit, that was a good speech. Olivia holds her breath and bites her lip, trying to man-up. Woman-up. Person-up. Literally anything at this point would help.

“Ugh, fuck,” she continues breaking her promise not to cuss excessively. “Okay.”

“Good. Now, take my arm again, and let’s go.”

As they re-emerge, Olivia can’t help but scoff. “You’ve been watching too much Downton Abbey with Josephine, haven’t you?”

“Agh, no! Just work with me. I have to find a way to challenge her to a duel, anyhow.”

“Jesus. You have been watching it.”

They disburse into the crowd, and Olivia does her best to mingle with meaningless manners to everyone she rubs shoulders and elbows with. Some County Commissioners, a few old people, and some young. It was exhausting, but by the end of the first hour, she had hope. Only one more, and she could free herself. Eventually they did run into good company: Josephine, in a dress just as, if not more beautiful than expected. Purple, matching Theia’s pocket square, and sequined mermaid style.

“My dear,” Josephine said coyly, as Theia left Olivia’s arm for hers. “Traffic wasn’t too much, I hope?”

“Not at all,” Theia kissed her politely against her cheek, hand gentle on her bent elbow, “I just had to persuade Olivia not to run away before she could leave her glass slipper.”

Josie giggles, and turns her attention to their third-wheel. “So, has it been bearable?”

“Not really,” Olivia says as she snags a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and his tray. It’s her third serving in the last hour or so. Theia turns to Josie and whispers something in her ear, all discrete and sexy. Fuck it all, they look so good together. When Josie’s happy face adjusts, she can only hope for the weak alcohol to start kicking in.

“I see,” Josie muses, “I should have known something was afoot when Lelian--”

“Who, now?” Olivia looks and interrupts, more on edge.

Josie raises a brow. “I...uh, nothing. Nope. Nothing.”

“Josie…” Olivia dreads, “what haven’t you told me?”

“I have not kept anything from you! But I am not responsible fo--”

“Josie!!”

The voice that could summon Olivia’s wrath comparable to a thousand suns comes from behind her. In an instant, she evaluates the surroundings for potential sharp objects to use. But it’s not fast enough for darling Leliana, as she appears. They grow their mingling circle to accommodate her.

“Leliana,” Theia nods tenuously, “so good to see you.”

“Theia!” Leliana smiles, before bending forward and kissing her on either cheek. Theia looks nervous, but humors her Parisian attitude. “You look stunning. I am so glad you could make it here.”

“Yes, well, I don’t miss an opportunity to support Josie, or her sister. By the way, Josie, where even is Yvette? She owes me my CDs, still.”

Josie folds her arms and snorts. “I’m afraid she is somewhere flirting with a classmate. Something Lucian, Lucas, I have no idea. It is her night to peacock.”

“So it is,” Leliana adds, before she looks at Olivia, blinking and shaking her head as if she had just appeared out of thin air. Maybe it was her quiet brooding. “Olivia, my goodness! I didn’t even notice you, you are stealthy in a crowd.” She’s wearing a knee-length, black dress. Chanel, maybe.

“Yes, I am, Leliana. Thank you for noticing.” Not stealthy enough, evidently. She isn’t safe from the same double-cheek-kissing, and she survives it with less grace than Theia mustered. But, when it’s over, it’s nothing but glee for everyone else.

“How wonderful. These events can be so boring.”

“They can, indeed,” Theia takes Olivia’s glass before she can knock it back like the inner bar blonde she is. “You are flying solo tonight, Leliana?”

Theia I am going to murder you in your sle--

“Hah! Oh, no, not this time, actually. She’s...hm, let me see!” she looks back over the crowd behind them. At this point, Olivia is praying for the rapture. Something, anything apocalyptic. Or a guy. A guy Leliana has brought as arm candy, named Cliff, who studies kinesiology and loves snickers. “Oh, yes! Hey, over here!” she waves.

Olivia, who has had her shoulders and chin tucked for self-preservation, locks eyes with Theia. She has that same look on her face as she did when she was giving her the pep talk: carpe diem, bitch, it’s time to handle it. Josie also looks at her, more sympathetic than motivational, but they both look away as the person Leliana’s flagging down like a plane draws closer. And so, with a deep breath and raised head, Olivia peeks back over her shoulder to behold her undoing.

A black, long-sleeve jumpsuit, with a plunging neckline that goes to the top of her ribs. Simple, fitted well, and so flattering on her figure. Black oxford-style shoes with a slight heel. Her hair is shiny and soft-looking, so much so she wants to run her fingers through it the second she sees it. For the second time, they lock eyes, and it’s in passing again. But when Cassandra looks at her the whole room becomes abysmal.

“Ah, there you are,” Leliana’s voice echoes from miles away, as if Olivia is underwater. It’s too much. It’s too good. She looks away fast, back to her friends, while Cassandra arrives between where she stands and the redhead ruining her life.

“Theia, I’m unsure if you’ve met Cass--”

“Cassandra Pentaghast,” Theia says, vaguely threatening as she holds Olivia’s champagne to her own lips, “no need to say.”

Leliana doesn’t miss a beat, glossing over the interruption. She places a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder and it inspires Kill Bill sirens in Olivia’s mind that are near-deafening. “Remember I mentioned her? Josephine’s girlfriend,” she adds.

Cassandra’s chin lifts, her tone changing, becoming more interested. “Oh. Yeah?”

Josephine bunches her shoulders all cute and clever, “the one and only, finally in the same place at the same time.” At that, Theia grins and nudges her with affection. Easy, and complete. They fit together.

“Nice to meet you, Theia,” Cassandra finally says, calmer in tone. “I have heard good things about you.”

Theia gives a pointed look back. “Wish I could say th--”

“Yes, I’m afraid I’m too much of a bragger,” Josie, again, softens the blow. “Uh, Theia, why don’t you and I go see about the chocolate fountain I hear is in the east lobby? I’m starting to get hungry, anyways.”

Olivia feels herself go pale, and she looks up, like a light bulb goes off. Her way out is granted, or so she thinks. “Good idea--”

“Oh, I can bring you back something!” Josie smiles, taking Theia in her arm and turning away, “you do not worry about exerting yourself in those stilettos!”

Olivia gives a pained exhale, thinking she’ll just follow anyway. Fuck manners. But then, she’s called by her temper.

“So, Olivia!” Leliana catches her mid step. She turns back to see them both standing to themselves like tall beams of rich snobbery, Cassandra looking reticent while Leliana’s enthusiastic as all hell. “I hear your Mother is running for Mayor in the Spring?”

She swallows hard, and straightens up. Think tall, be tall, take the chance. Make Theia proud before you kill her for all this. “Yes, she is. She’s very excited about it.”

“That is impressive. Running against an incumbent in her own party, no less.”

“Well, Republicans do love plurality of choice, do they not?” she clutches her bag with both hands.

“That’s true. Interesting times. Did you know Cassandra’s cousin will be running for the Democratic seat?”

Cassandra speaks, but is interrupted. “Leliana, that is--”

“It’s all rather hush. Your family is so reserved with their plans. It’s a wonder how they have so much going on.” An awkward half-pause, before Olivia turns more to Cassandra. Their eyes lock, and she softens.

“That is exciting, I’m sure. Congratulations and good luck to your cousin, Cassandra.”

“It..it’s no big deal. Political offices are common trappings in my family.”

Olivia fakes a grin, but her sheepish response is usurped. “Modesty,” Leliana remarks, hands going behind her. “Even with such a recent victory under your belt, no less.”

“Leliana…”

“No,” Olivia interrupts, trying harder, “I heard from Ellinor. You won the game! That is good.”

Cassandra looks back at her, somewhat surprised looking. “It was...it was--”

“It was harrowing, to say the least. A nail-biter. But Cassandra’s been practicing so intensely, and she was a master on the field. Carried the team, if you ask me. It was so special to watch. tout à fait le spectacle!” quite the show. Lord, this woman was working the Francophile angle. It was so painful. So, so painful. Olivia’s eyes glazed a bit, and she let a breath out her parted lips.

“Leliana, really, that is quite--”

“Agh, If you’ll excuse me, both of you. I...I have to make sure my eye makeup hasn’t sweat all over my face.” She looks to both of them, slanting her chin fast before seeing herself away. Behind her, she swears a faint “Olivia” is spoken, but she doesn’t heed it. Ejecting herself into the crowd. Cutting through the legion of people in black blazers and multi-colored gowns she finds a corridor, where a less-dramatic staircase is found behind an exit door. She climbs up one, two flights, heels clicking furiously until she enters the floor. It’s part of the gallery, more desolate with every turn she makes into it. She comes across an offshoot room, wide but not long, where an artist’s works line the walls with a bench in the middle of the floor. It’s white walls, industrial lights above her head, and impressionist-inspired portraits. She’s panting, out of air beneath her tight dress and the spanx. Fuck spanx.

She walks to the far corner of the room and stands in front of a painting, a woman in a black dress with a low back, sitting at a round table. There’s fruit in a bowl, of course. Always fruit in a fucking bowl. A game plan has to be made while she catches her breath. Just as she’s about to get her phone out to call Ellinor and signal her retreat, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Shoes hitting the concrete floor back in the main walkway. Closer, and closer.

“Olivia?” Her voice. It carries well, in the gallery’s cavernous architecture.

She looks to her shoulder, but keeps her back to her. “Oh, hey,” she then turns. Her hand rubs her arm. God, she looks so beautiful. Tall, statuesque, with muscled curves she wants to get lost in. It’s been a week and she’s starved like a year without crumbs.

“Hey,” Cassandra looks anxious, like she hadn’t planned this all through. “I...I’m sorry for Leliana being all...”

“What? No, don’t be. I’m not...that’s not at all why I’m up here. I just needed air. I get flustered in crowds.”

She nods abruptly. “I-I do, too.” Her hand hooks onto her elbow. “You...I almost didn’t recognize you. You look…”

“Yeah, I know.” Fuck. She shakes her head and corrects herself. “I mean, I...thank you. And don’t worry, I don’t hate your date, if that’s what you’re worried about. She’s swe--”

“Date?”

She flinches. “I...I just figured...”

Cassandra’s awkwardness melts, and she rolls her eyes and looks away, shaking her head. Everything about her says ‘unbelievable’ with frustration. “Leliana and I are not dating.”

“You...you aren’t? B-but,” she turns to face her head on, hands falling to her sides. “I thought when I saw you both at the coffee shop that morning, I…”

Cassandra steps forward. “She and I, we…” she chuckles drily, “we go to--”

“The same church. Got it.” It always...goes back...to church. She sucks her teeth for a moment, regaining her composure. Everything in her heart says leap forward, make right what was wronged. But her mind says spare more heartache. More awkward silence passes between them, before Cassandra takes another step closer.

“Is that why you’re acting like this?”

“Me? Cassandra, you have been just as aloof as I have.”

“I was trying to respect your space. You were the one who called for it.”

“Yeah, well, you said you agreed and you wouldn’t have time.” Her shoulders go back as argumentative confidence settles in. She’s good at picking fights. Not so much at...well, most other things. But if there was ever a good hail mary for her in a tough situation, it was a sparking conflict. “Um...you know, like I said, no harm done. I was going to get back to the party anyways, find my Mom, she’s--”

“You’re going to leave again.”

She blinks and looks up from her attempt to walk away, and Cassandra is staring at her. Decisive, and impatient. One might even suggest fed up.

“I…”

“You are doing exactly what you did the first time.”

Her cheeks heated. “I beg your pardon?”

A humorless smile. “You think you have it all answered again, and you’re running. You won’t let me explain, because you don’t care. You just want what you want when you want it, and when you don’t, it’s nothing.”

“Ohoho, oh no, you don’t,” the earrings come off...metaphorically.

“Then what’s the truth? Because from where I stand, you’re booking it fast for a woman in heels and a gown.”

“I’m a dancer, I’m used to being on my toes.”

Cassandra folds her arms. “Olivia.”

“Cassandra.” She matches her tone, but staring at her is breaking her apart. “You...you think what happened could just happen and I would not want space?”

“And what exactly happened, in your opinion?”

“You wouldn’t...you just…” she struggled, waving her hand at her side. “You have been making me do all these things, and chase, and I don’t know what I’m chasing! That’s what happened!”

Cassandra stares, a brow raising, but otherwise dead-pan. She then comes even closer. They are now only a couple yards apart when she stops, looking clever again. Clever and infuriating.

“Let me ask this, then: which one of us has initiated all our plans thus far?”

Olivia pouts and stomps her heel, arms crossing. She does mental math: the concert, the coffee date, the Church...thing. The pho outing. The work night in her office. Shit.

“I, uh...y-you.” Dammit. She can’t look her in the eye.

“And who has taken the other to various places that are important to her, so that the other can really get to know her, and perhaps even trust her?”

“...You.”

“And who has--”

“You, okay. You. Fine. Whatever it is, it’s you. I got it.”

Cassandra’s gaze lowers to the floor, and her hands go into her pockets. Shit, the jumpsuit has pockets.

“I think you have miscalculated just who has been doing the chasing.”

“Really?” Olivia rebuffs, “and what exactly are you chasing for, then? You...”

“I what?”

“...Make no sense, Cassandra! You’re all intentional, and you have your rules, but you don’t say anything about what they’re supposed to be accomplishing? I have no fucking idea what you want from me. You think I’m the demanding one, but you’re the one who has all the hoops to jump through with nothing promised on the other side. So what’s up?.” Her voice echoes a little too well, and she hopes they are alone wherever they are in the ridiculous building.

In the wake of her temper, though, Cassandra only frowns and looks to the floor. Pensive, as her eyebrows twitch up. Her lip rolls inward.

“You know, Liv, I don’t think the problem is my ambiguity. You’re too smart for that. I think you knew what I wanted; I think you’ve always known. You’re just upset that you can’t call the shots, even if it means the chance at being treated how you should be treated without having to spell it out or dictate it.”

Ouch.

“...And how should I be treated, then? Like a virginal Princess? To be brought back to the good side from her tawdry exp--”

“Like a person who deserves respect and genuine care as to what her ideas, concerns, and interests are!” her voice lifts, but not in volume. More...in depth. “Do you really think you objectifying me like that is going to resolve the issues you have with objectifying yourself? That every time something goes astray, you can just blame it on my background, when you know so little about it other than what I have so cautiously shown you?”

Her vocabulary, her passion, has and always will get the best of her. Olivia deflates underneath her puffed up chest, now hollowed out and losing the hunger to fight. Cassandra is right, she is not always the most articulate. However, when she is it cuts to the bone. Clean, and merciless.

“I’m not trying to do any of that,” she says, stoic but losing grip, “I’m just trying to do what’s best for me. And from the sounds of it, you have been very mistaken in your understanding of who I am.”

“Oh, have I?”

She swallows. “Yes.”

“Don’t be ridi--”

“Bullshit! You don’t get to call me ridiculous. You don’t get to show up here out of the blue, have your friend torment me on your behalf, and call me ridiculous!”

“I did not come here to torment you, I had no idea you would even be here! You said you hated these kinds of things.”

“I do! I hate them, but my family has me on a leash called ‘tuition.’ What’s your excuse, huh? Needing to show off on the town after your big soccer...thing?!” she bitterly remembers she’s inept at sports. Inept at women, too. It’s a match made in hell.

Cassandra stiffens, and takes a beat. “If it’s anyone doing the tormenting, Olivia, it’s not Leliana. I would look in the mirror for that answer.”

Olivia’s eyes narrow into a hostile, acidic glare even she can feel burn. “How dare y--”

“No, you know what,” Cassandra sets a foot back, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I did think I had found someone who turned out to be anything but who I thought they were. I’ll save you the trouble and see myself out. I know how it tortures you to be the first, anyways.” Unadulterated sarcasm. It cuts even deeper than her words.

“How can you--”

“No! Enough is enough. Now maybe, just maybe, you’ll get a taste of what it’s like when the person you can’t get out of your head for some God forsaken reason...ugh, forget it. Have a good night.” She continues back-stepping, hands with palms flat in Olivia’s direction. Olivia’s heart goes quiet again with the hope that maybe it’s all a dream, or Cassandra will come back around the corner and take it all back. But she doesn’t wake up, and Cassandra doesn’t come back. From the distant end of the floor, the fire escape door opens and shuts.

She wants to say goodbye, or mingle to keep up the charade, but coming down the stairs she can’t bring herself to rejoin. She can’t show her face, smiling and graceful, when she feels this way. So, she gets off on the first floor, and heads for the exit. There, she waits like a scorned Greek statue in her pretty gown for her car to be brought around. There’s no messages on her phone, not even from Theia or Josie. They must be having a wonderful night. Good, they should.

She drives off with all her masterful disregard for speed limits. When she brakes at the first stoplight she plugs in her phone to the AUX cord and puts it on one of her weird Spotify Daily Shuffle playlists. The first up is The 1975, “Somebody Else.” She leans forward onto her steering wheel and bursts into tears. Luckily, her last-minute stop before she drives home is nearby. She stops at the Trader Joe’s, strutting with wrath inside in her gown.

All the late night vegan Moms and 20-somethings turn to look at her, and watch her as she marches her way to the alcohol section. Her face was carefully wiped using the visor mirror before she entered, thank God, but she’s still choking back sniffles. While she stands in front of the menagerie of bottles she calls Ellinor, but nothing. Voicemail.

“H-hey, Ellinor. I’m on my way h-home. Things h-happened, and...look, I’m gonna pick up stuff and be back tonight. Maybe y-you’ll be a-awake. I...I love you…” she wants to say more, because the message thus far sounds pitiful, but she hangs up there. She grabs two bottles of mid-priced whiskey and marches, growling at the rum on her way out.

Whiskey and chocolate bars. Elitist, ‘ethically-made,’ over-priced chocolate bars, and she’s out onto the road. Her bags never left her trunk. They rarely ever do when she goes home.

She drives like a Bond stunt woman, but it gets her back faster. By the time she sets foot on the campus parking lot she’s listened to an entire 1975 discography.. The last 20 minutes were no music at all, which, arguably, is the most miserable. But she can’t keep crying while driving.

‘I think you knew what I wanted.’ Past-tense. It’s digging under her skin and driving her wild.

It’s past midnight when she walks into the dorm, barefoot and with her brown paper grocery bag, and everything is as safe as it’s gonna get. Going to her door, a faint sound echoes into the hallway and makes her stop.

Crying...that’s gotta be crying. Olivia turns and jogs down the hall as her stomach sinks with an intuitive feeling that shit has hit the fan. Pressing her ear to the door, her worst fear is realized. Nothing can stop her from shoving a bobby pin from her over-sprayed hair and unlocking her way in.

When she does, it’s bedlam: Sheets tossed, pillows thrown around the room, her string lights on draped on the walls but nothing else. And Ellinor, on the floor, curled up and sobbing.

“Ellinor, oh my God!” she drops everything and falls to her knees, crawling over to her. “Ellinor, hey, hey it’s me…!”

Ellinor flinches, but keeps crying. “L-Liv,” she quivers, “I...I…”

“Shh, sh,” Olivia sits back and pulls her into her lap, wiping her hair out of her face. She’s choking back tears both of self-pity and sympathy, now. In no shape to be a friendly savior, but she’ll try. Ellinor gains enough coherency to roll over into her, shoving her face in Olivia’s stomach. More crying, for what feels like ages, as they hold onto each other.

Then, after some time, Ellinors inhales sharp and congested. “Y-you f-feel like a Build-a-B-Bear…”

Olivia lays her head back against the lower twin bunk wood. Her chin curdles, and she wipes her face. “Y-yeah, I do. It’s a whole t-thing.”

“Liv, I f-fucked everything o-over...and he...h-he…”

“He did what?” she looks down, her attentions all the sudden lethal. “What did that bastard do?”

Ellinor trembles in her shoulders and lays on her back, face up at the ceiling as she rubs her soaking eyes. Still in Olivia’s lap, where it’s safe. “He-he went to the p-party, a-and...wait, did you…” she peers over at the bags. “Did you bring something?”

“Y-yeah,” she rubs her nose, “I went and got our favorite thing.”

“Whiskey?” her nose and lip quiver.

“Yeah. And chocolate, to go...to go in between. Maybe we should just w-wait, wait just a little while to dive in, okay? Maybe...maybe drink water, or some...something like that.”

“Ugh, angel face,” she closes her eyes and takes hold of Olivia’s hand. “You don’t look too hot, either. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“Shh, babe,” she sighs, before yanking her necklace off. “Don’t be sorry. It’s...it’s not your fault. We’re gonna be okay, okay?” she takes a breath, and looks at the clock on the dresser. The second catastrophic Saturday night in less than a month. They must be going for a new record.

#college au #college au update #ellinor trevelyan #olivia sinclair #modern!olivia #adventures of ellinor and olivia #PREPARE THYSELVES #FOR THE ANGST

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